The Commitment (The Unrestrained #2) (17 page)

I glanced up at him, a thrill of excitement racing through me.

"I think you're ready," he said and stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers. "If I tried it too soon, you'd be overwhelmed. Now, you're more familiar with submission so you'll be able to enjoy every element."

I sighed and slipped my arms around his waist. Then, the landline rang and Drake let me go, ending the embrace as he went to the phone.

"Drake Morgan," he said. He listened for a moment. "Oh, hello. Thanks for calling. What have you got for me?" He listened for a moment and then a look came over his face and I wasn't certain if it was good news or bad news. "Are you certain?" he said, his voice low. He stood with one hand on his forehead as if he'd developed a sudden headache. "Thank
God
," he said, shaking his head slowly. He was quiet for a moment, but I could tell by the sound of his breathing he was very happy, an expression close to joy on his face. "Best possible match?"

There was silence and then Drake gave a huge sigh. It was great news about the tissue match. My heart squeezed for him – he was hoping so much he could donate and help the son he never knew and now, he'd just received the answer he'd been waiting for.

"OK, thank you so much for calling."

Drake hung up, his back to me. He clasped his hands behind his head and stood there, watching out the living room window, not saying anything. Finally, I went to him and stood behind him, wondering what I should do.

"I'm so happy, Drake."

He nodded, but didn’t turn around. Finally, his arms dropped and his head bowed.

"
Christ
," he said, exhaling heavily. "I was so worried. There was a chance I wouldn't be a match, so I didn't want to get my hopes up…"

I went closer and threaded my arms around his waist, laying my head against his back. I didn’t say anything but I wanted him to know he had me if he needed me in any way. His hands clasped overtop of mine and we stood there for a while, the noise from the street filtering up through the windows.

Finally, he turned around and embraced me, his arms slipping around my waist, pulling me against his body tightly. My arms went around his shoulders and then he buried his face in the crook of my neck, saying nothing, but I could feel the tension in his body releasing slowly. I knew he was fighting tears from the way he breathed, ragged, alternating between holding his breath and exhaling.

Liam had looked so weak that night at the hospital, his tiny face as pale as the sheets, his head bald from the chemo, a tube for oxygen threaded around his face. How wonderful that he might be able to save his son's life.

Finally, Drake released me. "I'll be right back," he said. "I'm going to send an email to Michael in Nairobi that I'm a match and will have to give up my OR time."

I followed him to where he kept an old computer, on a desk in the dining room. "That's too bad, Drake. I know you wanted to help out." I stood in the doorway and watched as he opened the laptop on the desk.

He shook his head. "What's a surgical slate compared to a son's life?"

Then, his cell phone rang back in the living room, the trill urgent.

"Can you get that?" he asked as he checked his email.

"Yes, sure," I said and went back to the living room to his cell phone to check the caller ID. It was Maureen.

"Hello," I said. "Kate McDermott speaking."

Maureen's voice was soft, almost relieved. "Is Drake there? Tell him this is important."

"Just a minute." I walked to the office, handing him the cell.

"It's Maureen."

Drake took the phone.

"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I just got the news. I'm so pleased." He listened for a moment. "No, it's no problem. I'm glad to help. Anything to help."

Maureen spoke for a while.

"I
will
," he said, his voice sounding a bit irritated. "I understand." He frowned. "No, I said I
understand
. You don't have to worry. Chris is his father. I'm a total stranger." His voice was filling with emotion the more he spoke. He exhaled. "I'm meeting with Burke and will make the arrangements. Thanks for calling."

He hung up and stood there, shaking his head.

"What's the matter?"

"She wanted to remind me," he said and his voice broke for a moment. He took in a deep breath as if calming himself, his hands on his hips. "She wanted to
remind
me that this didn't change anything. I'm still not going to be part of Liam's life. As if I don't already know that.
Jesus
, she must think I'm a real idiot."

He turned away and leaned against the windowsill, watching the cars on the street below.

I took in a deep breath and went to him. "That wasn't very nice of her, especially considering how cooperative you are."

He sighed. "She doesn't want to screw things up with Chris. He was shocked to learn Liam wasn’t his. It meant she was still fucking me when she was fucking him. That must have hurt." he said, his voice sounding devastated. He didn't say anything for a moment. Then, he sighed. "They almost broke up because of it, so you can imagine how hard this has been for her as well. And for Chris."

I didn't know what to say. "Hard for all of you."

He sighed and said nothing. I stood behind him, not really knowing what to do or say. Finally, he turned back to me, his eyes haunted

"Kate, she'd like to think I forced her to have sex, absolve her of responsibility for fucking me even after our marriage had failed, but I
didn't
. I remember the last time we had sex vividly. She had sex with me, willingly. She was maybe a bit reluctant at first, claiming she wasn't feeling very romantic, so I," he said, shrugging. "I seduced her. I didn't force her. I want you to know that. We hadn't been having sex very much. I'd been away a lot. I would never force her."

"Of course you didn't, Drake. I know. You wouldn't force her or anyone."

He exhaled and looked in my eyes, as if searching to see if I was being truthful.

"Listen, let's forget about this," I said. "You have such good news to be happy about. Can I get you a cup of coffee?" I hoped to end this difficult discussion. "Something to eat?"

"Sure," he said and sighed, brushing his fingers against my cheek. "Thanks. I've got to call Michael, explain things. It's early evening in Africa, so I'll call him at home. He'll understand. He said that if the match was good enough, and I stayed to donate, he could find someone to take over my cases."

"Are we still going to go to Kenya?"

"Not for a while. I'm sorry, it's not only the transplant, but Liam…" he said, taking in a deep breath. "While I'm a perfect match, there are still risks. I want to stay around for a few weeks, see how he handles the transplant. They'll put him on anti-rejection drugs but still, there's always a chance he could reject the transplant – or it could reject him. Maybe not until March, right before class starts depending on how Liam does."

I leaned in closer and gave him a hug, and then he bent down and kissed me, his kiss warm. He buried his face once more in my neck and rocked me for a moment and then pulled away.

"I better get dressed. I have a meeting with the oncologist and later, one with a colleague about a paper we were collaborating on. We'll have to rebook our flights for next month at the earliest, depending on how long I take to recover and how Liam does."

I forced a smile. He went to the bedroom while I went to the kitchen to fix us breakfast.

We'd be going to Kenya, but not as soon as I anticipated.

Drake dressed and after eating a small breakfast of toast and fruit, he kissed me after he buttoned up his coat.

"How long will you be?"

Drake sighed. "I should be pretty busy all morning. What are your plans for the day?"

"I think I'm going to make a canvas for a painting I'm planning. If we're going to stay for a while until you give the donation and see how it takes, I think I'd like to work on a new piece."

"Oh? You're painting again?"

"Yes, and the painting's going to be pretty big, so I'm going to a friend's studio to start work on it."

"What painting?"

"It's a secret," I said, smiling coyly.

"I don't like secrets, Ms. Bennet. I hope you know I'll do everything in my power to find out what it is."

"It's a gift," I said and pouted. "I don't want you to know until it's done."

"Whose studio is it?" he said, his voice light.

"This young artist from Texas, who's here taking his Masters of Fine Art at Columbia. He comes from a very rich family in the oil business and so he has this great studio. I can make the canvas there using his materials, and then work on it, too, if I need space."

"You two close?"

I glanced at Drake. Nathaniel was a few years younger than me and not my type at all.

"He's a good friend from college, but he's a real artist," I said. "Unlike me, who's just a weekend variety."

"Don't put yourself down like that," Drake said, frowning. "You're talented. You've just chosen a different path. Which you could always change, if that made you happier."

I sighed. "I might deviate from that path for a while, now that I'm on leave from grad school. I want to get back into art, since I have the time."

"So, who is this rich kid from Texas and talented artist friend of yours? I need to know if I should be jealous…"

"Drake!" I said and went to him as he stood at the door, his coat and scarf on. "He's two years younger than me, is a pothead, has tattoos and piercings. The last time I saw him, he had a bright blue streak in his long blond hair. At first I thought it was paint, but no. It was blue hair color."

Drake laughed at the image I painted of Nathaniel. "Still, artists are pretty sensual people," he said, wagging his eyebrows.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "You have no cause for jealousy. He's one of those free spirits who flits from lover to lover like a butterfly from flower to flower."

"Has he sampled any of your nectar?"

"
No
," I said and gave his shoulder a playful tap. I didn't tell Drake that Nathaniel had wanted to hook up back when we were in the same class. I'd turned him down, but Drake didn't need to know that. I didn't want him to have any worries or feel any jealousy, considering the drama that was going on in his life. The fact I turned Nathaniel down didn't affect our friendship and he was generous, offering me the chance to go to the studio to work any time I wanted and there was free time in one of the studio's four rooms.

I'd finally have a reason to do just that.

"Maybe I should come with you, take a look at this
studio,
" Drake said, his voice a bit guilty sounding.

I nodded. "If you want. I'd love to show it to you, but you are
not
allowed to see my painting until I feel it's ready. I've just done a few sketches at this point, so it will be a while before it's finished."

"When do you want to go?"

"I thought you'd be busy all morning so I asked him if I could come by…"

"I could make some time after I speak with the oncologist."

"Call me and let me know when you're done. I'll text Nathaniel and let him know we'll be by."

"Sounds like a plan."

Drake kissed me, deeply, holding onto me a bit longer than normal, but finally, after he'd run his hands all down my body, eliciting a delicious thrill of desire through me, he let me go and left the apartment. He said nothing more about playing out our scene, so I assumed he was still too emotional because of the news about the transplant tissue match to even think of it.

That was fine with me – I could wait, but it was possible that it might be the last time in a while he'd feel up to it. I read up on stem cell transplants on the net. The meds that stimulated his bone marrow could make the donor feel under the weather.

Whatever he decided, I shoved the idea into the back of my mind. Maybe in a week or two, when he'd recovered enough from the procedure, he might feel like playing our scene. I tried to be a good submissive and let him decide when.

As soon as Drake was gone, I sent Nathaniel a text, asking him if I could come by later in the morning to make a canvas.

I sat at the kitchen table, planning out the canvas, deciding what materials I'd need and how big it should be. I wanted it almost life-sized so it would have to be at least six feet long and four feet high. I'd need a place to work with good light. Depending on what Nathaniel and his small group of artist-friends were doing, the studio might be busy, but I could always work at home.

As I waited for Nathaniel to text me, my thoughts turned from my painting to Drake and Liam. What would happen between them? Maureen said she didn't want Drake to be part of his life until Liam was an adult and could choose for himself. Liam would always be a memory of a small boy sick in the hospital isolation ward. Frail, in danger. I hoped that the bone marrow donation worked for him – losing Liam after Drake only found out about him would be very hard to bear, even if Drake never planned on being a father.

My cell buzzed and I took it in hand. It wasn't Nathaniel. It was my father on Facetime.

"Morning Daddy," I said, peering at the tiny screen.

"Today's the day, isn't it? Drake finds out about the tissue match?"

I nodded. "He already got word. He's a really good match."

My father smiled broadly. "Oh, God, that's great news." He leaned back in his swivel chair at his desk. "How's he taking it? Let me talk to him. We must celebrate!"

"He's at the hospital right now meeting with the oncologist, but he's so pleased. Donating will give him a sense of doing something for his son." I relayed the conversation Drake and I had earlier.

"So will you stick around here for a while or go to Kenya once he's recovered?"

"We'll stay until Drake's sure Liam is OK," I said, my voice catching in my throat, happiness for Drake filling me. "He was really fighting to keep his composure this morning when he got the news, but he's very happy."