The Agreement (53 page)

He kissed my cheek and left me alone in the
kitchen.

I went to my room and laid on my bed, devastated
that Drake felt he had to leave NY Presbyterian over this. It was
my
fault. I
never
should have agreed to see him again. That day when I sat
in the storefront window and he texted me from across the street, I should have
just let him go.

Elaine popped her head in the doorway.

"Katie? Are you OK?"

I rolled over away from the door. "No, I'm
not."

She came in, closing the door behind her. She
sat on the bed beside me and took my hand.

"What's the matter, Kate. Tell me. Is it
Drake? Your father told me that he was leaving for Africa in a few days."

I nodded and then covered my face with my hands,
unable to stop my tears.

She bent down and put her arms around my
shoulders. "There, there… I thought you would be sad. You two seemed to be
really good together. His eyes seemed so bright when he was with you in the
Bahamas. I just can't believe you two broke up. What happened?"

"I had to break up with him," I said
to her. "He isn't interested in anything long term, just casual. I knew
that when we started out, but I fell in love with him, Elaine. There's just so
much more to him than I ever thought was possible. He loves music, he is so
good hearted, he's so strong and warm and smart. But I need more than he can
give."

"Aw, sweetheart," she said and pulled
me into her arms. "It's OK. These things have a way of working out for the
best." She hugged me and just let me cry. How I wished my mother was here
to comfort me, but she wasn't. I hugged Elaine tighter.

We sat like that for a while and she stroked my
hair, murmured in my ear and soon, I regained control over myself.

"Have a bath and put a cold compress on
your eyes. We'll have a nice dinner. I wish you would come with us to the
dance, but I understand if you decide to stay here."

She left me on the bed and I lay there, deciding
what I should do.

I didn't have Drake any more. I didn't have
Dawn. I didn't have my own mother. I felt incredibly sorry for myself.

I slept the afternoon away, hiding from the
world under the covers of my childhood bed.

Later, before dinner, I did what Elaine
suggested. There was no good reason to make my father upset so I had a bath,
put a cold washcloth over my eyes, and did the best I could to look
presentable, wearing that dress I wore the night I attended my father's first
campaign dinner. No amount of makeup could disguise my bloodshot black eye so I
decided to carry a tissue around and plead allergies if anyone asked me. I
prepared a story about falling in the bathtub for when people asked about my
stitches.

Finally, the time came for guests to start
arriving. I went to the bar and looked for something to drink, needing alcohol
to take away my sadness. The bartender was gone to the kitchen for ice, and so
I bent down and checked the bar. There was every kind of scotch, some bourbon,
gin, but my dad kept the vodka cold. I opened the small bar fridge under the
counter for some vodka and cold soda. In the back of the fridge was a bottle
with a label I recognized from Drake's apartment.
Anisovaya
. On a small
label attached to the bottle was a note in Drake's handwriting:

"
To my second father, Happy New Year, my
best regards, Drake
"

I picked it up and when I stood, I glanced up,
thinking the bartender was back only to be looking into the clear blue eyes of
Drake Morgan.

Devastatingly handsome Drake Morgan, MD.
Neurosurgeon on leave from NY Presbyterian, bass player, philanthropist,
Dominant. Wearing a beautiful dark grey suit with a white shirt and black tie,
hands behind his back, a half-smile on his face.

He brought his hands forward and in them were
the two crystal shot glasses that were rumored to have once belonged to Yelena
Kuznetzova, Stalin's housekeeper at his dacha in Soviet Georgia.

"I brought these along just in case you
didn't have anything quite so special."

He placed them on the bar and smiled at me.

I put the bottle on the counter and stepped
back, leaning against the wall, a bit dizzy as the blood drained from my face.
I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. He came behind the bar and took me
in his arms, practically holding me up because my knees went wobbly.

He took my chin in his hand and I opened my
eyes, barely able to see him through my tears.

"Drake, you can't
do
this to
me," I said, biting back a sob. "This is cruel."

"You're the one who left. You can't do this
to
me
." Then he kissed me, his arms squeezing me against him and I
could do nothing to stop him, he was so strong and determined. When he pulled
away, he held my face in his hands, wiping my tears away with his fingers.

"Why are you here?" I said, my voice a
whisper, barely able to speak. "You're leaving. I don't want to see
you…"

"Your father called me and told me you'd be
here tonight. That if I was going away, I should come over and say
goodbye."

"This is torture."

He smiled as if nothing was wrong. "Kate,
your father knows. He gave me a dressing down, telling me that he already knew
about the restraining order. About my 'proclivities' as he called them. He's
known all along."

"He
knows?
"

Drake nodded. "He's been watching me for
years, monitoring me for my father. He knew about the restraining order. He
knew about the BDSM through Nigel."

He led me to the couch in the living room and
sat with his arm around me, touching my bottom lip, brushing a strand of hair
off my cheek.

"He and Nigel go back a long way. I guess
Nigel faced some blackmail over his sexuality years ago when your dad was still
a defense lawyer and your dad advised him. Nigel told him about me after he saw
me at a Fetish night."

"That's why Nigel was looking at you that
way the night of my father's campaign fundraiser…"

"Yeah, he told me that I had better not
ever hurt you or he'd have my balls. I had no idea he'd told your father."

"My father
knows
you're a Dom?"

Drake laughed ruefully. "Who would ever
have believed it? He knows even more about me than my own dad did."

"And he
approved
of you as my
boyfriend…" I shook my head. "I don't understand. I thought he'd be
horrified."

"So did I but I guess not. He said,"
and Drake put on a mock voice that sounded gravelly like my father, "
'For
some reason I can't think of off the top of my head, Kate seems to have a
preference for a dominant man and you're a helluva lot better than some jackass
who doesn't know what the Sam hell he's doing, like that flyboy she had the
sense to get rid of
.'"

I covered my mouth to stifle a sob, tears
filling my eyes.

"He said
that?
"

"His
exact
words."

I closed my eyes and leaned against him, but
even though I was relieved that my father was so accepting of this, Drake was
leaving
.

"But you left NY Presbyterian. You’re going
to Africa…"

He pulled back and looked in my eyes. "I
figured that if I did, I could lay low for a year and return when all this
blows over. I talked to the head of the College and we agreed that I'd take a
year leave of absence. I've been meaning to go to Africa and do a longer stint.
Teach a class at the College in Nairobi."

I shook my head, a feeling building in me that I
couldn't identify.

"So you came to say goodbye."

He took my face in his hands again. "I
came
,"
he said, taking in a deep breath, "to say that I've developed a taste for
potatoes and gravy and meat all on the same fork." He stared into my eyes,
his expression so earnest, his brow furrowed. "Lara played a recording of
you telling her you thought you could love me. She even tried to entice you to
meet another Dom and you refused, saying you wanted me. That
almost
made
me reconsider leaving, but
could
isn't
does
." He moved
closer, his eyes so intense. "When Elaine called me this afternoon and
told me that you said you
had
fallen in love with me, I realized that I
would never meet anyone like you again in my life. So perfect for me in every
way. And I think I'm good for you, too. I think I could make you happy."

He leaned down and kissed me tenderly.

"I couldn’t stand it. I couldn't lose you.
So I came over and spoke with your father while you were sleeping, perfectly
willing to accept what ever he said I should do. He admitted to knowing about
me all this time and said that if I had feelings for you, I shouldn't leave
without telling you. Then, he sent me home to change and I came back as quickly
as I could so we could talk and I could confess my feelings for you."

I bit my lip to control my emotions.

"Ms. Bennet," he said and shook his
head, his eyes searching mine. "Kate, I
love
you. I never,
ever
want to be separated from you again."

Emotion built in me, my vision blurring. I
couldn't speak.

"Kate," he said, his smile indulgent.
"Your face is getting red. You should
breathe
now."

I burst out crying at that, covering my face
with my hands, and he just wrapped his arms around me, cradling me, my face in
the crook of his neck. He pulled a handkerchief out of a pocket and gave it to
me so I could mop up my eyes, rocking me back and forth. Then he tilted my head
up and kissed me.

"But you're leaving…" I said when he
pulled away.

"I want you to come with me."

I shook my head. "Africa was so hard for
me."

He brushed hair off my cheek. "Not where
we'll be. Kenya is so beautiful, Kate. Where I'll work, it's so full of hope
and promise. You'll love it. The wildlife is spectacular. You could work on
your art, your photography, write…"

"I haven't finished my MA."

"You can take a leave of absence. When we
come back, you could finish it."

"What would I go as? Your submissive?"

"As my
love
. As the woman I can't
live without. And, when we wanted it, and needed it, as my submissive."

I sighed, my eyes still brimming, and leaned
against him, my face in the crook of his neck, his cologne filling my nose, his
warmth, his strength, soothing me.

When a guest arrived at the front door, Drake
took my hand and led me to the bathroom, closing the door behind us. He made me
sit on the vanity while he rifled through the drawers in search of a washcloth,
which he ran under cold water. Then, he held it to my eyes and leaned against
me, his gaze so comforting – his eyes so tender. Only less than two
months ago, I could barely bring myself to look in his eyes, but now, I wanted
to look in them.

I was surprised at what a caregiver he was,
thinking that surgeons were usually a bit distant but that was the story of our
relationship – from that first night at the bar when he saved me from a
fall, to the fundraiser when he tended my wounds, to the concert when he wiped
my tears, to the Bahamas when he cut me out of the wetsuit and applied aloe
vera to my burns, to the ER when he bandaged me up.

I just let him look after me, my happiness
almost too much to bear, bringing more tears to my eyes.  I had to breathe
in deeply to calm myself.

Finally, I was able to regain control and let
him wipe my face. I reapplied some makeup while he watched.

"You don’t have to stay with me for
this," I said and I applied foundation to cover up my red nose.

"I forgot how much I love watching a woman
dress and put on her face. It's so intimate."

"You used to like it?"

He smiled, his smile a bit wistful. "When I
was married."

I said nothing, even though I wanted to hear
more about his marriage. I didn't want to push him to talk about what was such
a painful memory.

But he seemed to want to tell me. While I
applied my mascara, he sat on the edge of the bathtub and watched me in the
mirror.

"I used to watch her in the morning before
she went to work."

"What did she do?"

"A nurse – of course. Who else do
doctors spend so much time with? We worked together at NYP. If the nurses have
a bad opinion of me, it's because of the divorce. It split them into two camps
– those who still liked me and those who hated me because of the
split."

"Sorry to hear that. It's hard to stay
neutral in a divorce."

I applied a bit of lip gloss and then I turned
around, leaning against the vanity and watched him. He seemed to want to keep
talking.

"I thought I'd never make the same mistake
as my father, but I made every single one. He neglected my mother, he was so
busy with his business and with his charity and his music, she finally gave up
and left him."