The Commitment (The Unrestrained #2) (29 page)

"Leaving so soon?" Nigel said, wagging his eyebrows. "I completely understand, love. Take care and give me a call before you two leave."

"I will," I said and leaned up to kiss his cheek. I nodded to Kurt and then made my way past the other guests to the stairs. On my way out, I caught sight of Dave Mills talking to someone. He caught my eye briefly and smiled, but he was deep in conversation so I didn't stop to say hello, intent on escaping Kurt. After getting my coat, I made my way out of the club. Just as I thought I'd escaped having to talk to Kurt, he caught up with me at the bottom of the stairs to the street. He took my arm and stopped me.

"Running away without even saying hello?" His face sent me back to the time we spent together and how much I once wanted him, despite my fears. I didn’t feel that way any longer – Drake was everything I wanted in a man. But I could see why I was so smitten with Kurt when I first met him. He had this animal magnetism, tall, well-built, sexy with his tousled sun-bleached waves, his demeanor exuding warmth, his voice deep and smooth.

"I have to leave…" I said, not wanting to have to deal with him.

 "It's been a long time since we spoke. I've missed you."

"Look, it's nice to see you, but I really
have
to go," I said, pulling my arm out of his grip. He let go and held his hands up as if signaling he wasn't trying to stop me.

"Aw, come on, Katie. Have a drink with me for old time's sake. We can catch up. I've been over in Africa for the past few months. It's nice to see a familiar face. Besides, you broke my
heart
, you know."

I frowned. "I didn’t break your heart. It was the other way around."

"You told me to fuck off and find someone else to push around, if I recall…"

"And then I apologized and tried to explain but you never returned an email or phone call."

"I was crushed. You made me feel like a monster. I knew that if I went back to you, you'd break up with me eventually because that was me – dominant, controlling."

"I was so," I said, struggling for words. "So naïve back then. I really didn’t understand myself or what was happening between us."

"Me as well. Kate, I want to apologize for being a first-class jerk in the way I treated you. I had all these needs I didn't understand. I understand them now."

I looked at his face and didn’t see any deceit on it, but he was so attractive, his face so innocent in its masculine beauty, I had no idea if he was putting it on or being truthful.

"Give me a chance," he said, leaning closer, his finger brushing my cheek. "Let's have coffee. Dinner."

At that moment, a flash went off and I turned, holding my hand over my eyes to see what it was. A photographer, hanging around outside the venue taking pictures in case a celebrity exited.

"Fuck off," Kurt said, turning his back to the photographer, sheltering me as I stood against the brick wall of the building. "Jerks," he said, looking down at me almost possessively. "I really missed you, Katie," he said as if he couldn't accept what I was saying. He moved closer to me, leaning his arm against the wall beside my head as if trying to block my exit. "I thought we were such a good match. I was really hurt when you broke it off."

The cameras flashed as someone else left the club – someone deserving of the paparazzo's notice. Kurt leaned closer, his finger tilting my chin up as if he was going to kiss me.

I pulled back. "Stop. I have a boyfriend," I said, touching my collar. "A
serious
boyfriend. We're going to Africa in a few weeks, to live there for six months."

"My loss," he said softly. His gaze moved over my face. "I missed those pretty green eyes of yours," he said, smiling. " "I always thought I was just your type, Kate. A marine like your old man, a volunteer, dominant… If you feel like giving it another chance, call me." He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. I pulled my hand away.

"Tell me about your new man."

"He's a doctor at NYP. A volunteer with Doctors Without Borders. A neurosurgeon."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Neurosurgeon? Not
Morgan…
"

I nodded. "Drake Morgan, yes."

Kurt frowned, his hand on the wall beside my head. "He's your old man's friend. He's really well-respected, but
jeez
, Kate. He's forty, isn't he? A bit old for you, don't you think?"

"He's thirty
seven
. Only six years older than you."

"Seven."

"Seven," I said, frustrated. "I'm in love with him and he's in love with me. I can't meet you or have coffee or anything." I turned and walked to the street, looking for my father's limo. It wasn't in sight so I took out my cell and texted the driver, requesting that he take me home earlier than I had indicated. He texted me back that he was getting gas and would be about ten minutes.

That was too long. I started walking to the street, planning on hailing a taxi.

"Kate," Kurt said, catching up with me again, standing far too close to me. "Let me at least give you a ride home."

"I have a limo service – and a boyfriend."

He sighed and smiled softly. "When you're free again, keep me in mind. I felt like we never really made a true go of it."

"We
did
make a go of it. It didn’t work out." I turned to him. "I'm happy with Drake."

"If you're
ever
unhappy with Morgan, please keep me in mind. I've learned a lot about things since we broke up. I've grown up, Kate. If things don't work out with you and Morgan, give me a chance."

"Things
are
working out with us," I said, turning away.

Luckily, an empty taxi pulled up. "Goodbye, Kurt," I said, never so happy to be out of a man's company.

"Goodbye, sweetheart," he said and blew me a kiss. I frowned as I closed the door. Kurt stood on the curb and watched, his hands in his pockets, a smile on his face as we drove off.

I fumed on the drive home, upset that Kurt felt so empowered to push me, and upset that I hadn't told him to fuck off the way I had before, just a year earlier. I was so unnerved to see him out of the blue. I knew he'd been away in Africa, flying for some regional airline, and so had no expectation that I'd ever run into him at a DWB function.

There he was, looking as gorgeous as ever, and seemingly, still interested in giving me a chance. I had
no
interest in him – Drake was all I needed. Kurt was just a bad memory from my past that served to show how naïve I was back when I was with him.

I couldn't wait to get back to Drake, check on how he was doing, feeling somewhat guilty that I'd left him alone and had run into Kurt. It wasn't my fault he was at the fundraiser – I had no idea he was even back in the US – but it would have been much better if Drake had been with me to show Kurt that I wasn't available. I hoped it was the last time I saw him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Drake was asleep on the couch when I got back, his head turned to the side, the blanket pulled up to his chin, a pile of used tissues on the coffee table. The television was on, set to a news channel. He looked pale as he lay on the couch, his nose red, and I wondered if the medicine he took prior to the procedure hadn't weakened his immune system. I hung up my coat as quietly as possible, shucked off my boots and tiptoed to the doorway to watch him from a distance, not wanting to wake him. I'd let him sleep and wake up when he was ready.

I went into the bedroom and undressed and then went to the bathroom to take off my makeup and brush my teeth. I slipped into my robe and nightie, then went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I wasn't hungry, so I sat at the kitchen island and read on my eBook reader, my ear trained to the living room in case Drake woke.

He had slept for another two hours. Finally, about 8:30, I went into the living room to stand beside him. I listened to him breathe for a few moments, marveling that this gorgeous intense complicated man was mine – all mine. The floors creaked a bit as I shifted position and he rustled under the covers, his eyes blinking open. He stretched, trying to sit up.

"There you are," he said, smiling. "What time is it?" He looked at his watch and frowned. "Have I been asleep all this time? When did you get back?"

"I was back pretty early, but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you."

He yawned and stretched his arms. "I missed you."

"I missed
you
, more than you can know," I said as I sat on the side of the couch. I leaned down and kissed him, my hand cupping his cheek.

"
Why
did you miss me, Ms. Bennet? What was it that you missed?"

"I wish you'd been there with me. I couldn't wait to get out of there."

"Was Nigel there at least?"

I nodded. "Yes," I said. "We had a nice visit, such as it was."

"Anyone else I'd know?"

I hesitated, uncertain whether to confess that Kurt had been there. No need to upset Drake or make him jealous over nothing. I didn’t care about Kurt. Drake didn't know Kurt. Kurt could only be a problem between us, so I didn't mention him.

"Captain Donnelly was there. You'd know him from Doctors. Dave Mills was, but I didn't speak with him. I'm sure the regular crew was there."

"Sorry I wasn’t up to it, but I'm sure your dad appreciates that you went in his place. It's good PR for his campaign to be seen giving away his money to a non-political social cause."

"I suppose," I said, wanting to change the subject. "What do you want for supper?" I didn’t want to go into any detail about who I spoke to at the event. I didn’t want to lie to Drake, but I didn't want to have to tell him about the uncomfortable meeting with Kurt. I'd tell him later, when he was feeling better. "Should I order in from
Clair
?" Clair was a local restaurant that Drake frequented and ordered takeout. "Something light – maybe some fish and vegetables? A salad?"

"Sounds great." He sat up a bit more. "I needed that nap. I feel like an old man falling asleep in front of the television."

"You're hardly an old man," I said, remembering what Kurt had said earlier. "You're in your prime, Drake. Prime Grade A Manflesh."

"My manflesh is still a bit sick tonight, I'm afraid."

"Just as well," I said and tucked a hank of his dark hair behind his ear. "I'm under the weather anyway."

"A bit hung over from the Anisovaya?"

I nodded.

"You should have taken some aspirin and drunk copious amounts of water."

I smiled at him and pecked his cheek. "Always the doctor."

I went to the phone and checked the number for
Clair
, ordering the fish and seasonal vegetables as we agreed.

Drake moved over on the couch and pulled back the blanket.

"Come and snuggle with me," he said. "I need some affection. And more Tylenol."

I was only too happy to get more Tylenol for him and snuggle into Drake's arms, my lingering guilt over speaking with Kurt making me want to give Drake extra attention. I was so glad the event was over. I'd refuse to do anything with DWB for my father until Drake and I left for Africa, not wanting to run into Kurt again.

I had everything I needed in Drake and wanted to forget about Kurt as quickly as possible.

Drake felt considerably better the next day, refreshed after a very long sleep. He still had a cold but his throat wasn’t as sore. It was almost ten o'clock when Drake finally roused. I'd been up for an hour, and had showered and dressed. I was making coffee when he stood in the doorway and he watched me pour myself a cup.

"Good morning," he said and came to me, tilting my chin so he could kiss me on the cheek. "Why didn’t you wake me up?"

"You needed more sleep. I didn't want to bother you."

"I do feel a lot better this morning than last night. I was exhausted even lying on the couch all evening."

"How's your cold? Are you almost back to normal?"

He shrugged. "It's better. I don't think I have a secondary infection. Luckily, we have nothing to do except enjoy each other's company."

I smiled and slipped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest.

"Luckily."

Despite his cold, Drake found things to do to keep himself busy for the next two days and so I did as well, spending time at the studio, working on the second canvas. You couldn't identify Drake unless you knew him. I was cautious enough about Drake's reputation that I didn't even want my painting to be recognizable. I knew it was him though, from the shape of his chest, the squareness of his jaw that was visible just under the shadow of his arm, the black hair, and the way his hair trailed down from his navel to his groin, hidden under the sheet.

On the third day, Drake was up early as usual. He'd showered and was standing at this closet with only his boxer briefs, socks and unbuttoned shirt, humming to himself as he selected a tie to wear. I was still in bed under the covers, enjoying watching him do such a mundane thing as dress.