The Agreement (10 page)

"Doctor
Morgan
," I said, my
voice a bit shaky.

"Ms.
Bennet
," he said softly,
low enough so that no one could overhear. "You look…
breathtaking
."

I made a face at that, hiding my smile behind a
hand. The dress I wore was very feminine. Black velvet with a square neckline
that happened to show off my cleavage a bit too much for my tastes but the
stylist assured me it was all the fashion.

Of course, Drake extended his hand and it was
just then that my father breezed into the entryway.

"Oh, Drake,
there
you are."

I
had
to shake Drake's hand. My father
would expect it. I held out my hand and Drake took it and he kissed my knuckles
briefly, his eyes never leaving mine. I knew that if my father hadn't been
there, he wouldn’t have let go. I just
knew
. He was that kind of man
– the kind who didn't let you forget that he was male and you were
female.

Drake turned to my father. "Judge
McDermott," he said, extending his hand. "Thanks once again for
inviting me tonight."

My dad shook his hand, his other hand on Drake's
shoulder. That meant my father really
really
liked Drake. He only did
that with his closest friends or people he wanted to be.

"Drake, please, I insist you call me
Ethan," he said in his gravelly voice that made him sound like George C.
Scott in
Patton
. "I see you've already spoken to Katherine. Come in
and make yourself comfortable." My father turned to me. "I invited
Drake here a bit earlier than our other guests so you could give him the tour
and show him your photographs from Africa." He turned to Drake.
"They're really good and intimate, telling the story of her trip. You want
to understand what makes my daughter tick? You see those photos. Very artistic.
She has real talent. I have to take a call or I'd join you myself."

I was struck speechless. My father
purposely
invited Drake early so I could spend time with him –
alone
?

"Of course," I said, my voice barely
above a whisper.

"Good, good. The others should start
arriving in a while. Get Drake a drink, dear. Be a good hostess for me, will
you? The bartender had to go get more wine and Elaine is still busy getting
ready. Heath isn't here yet."

He left us, a huge smile on his face.

Drake stood there and grinned at me. His blue
eyes were made even deeper blue by the shirt he wore. His hands were clasped
behind his back.

"Would you like a drink?" I said,
dutifully. I pointed to the bar in the dining room.

"Know how to make a vodka martini?" he
said.

I went to the bar and found a martini glass and
a shaker, some vodka and vermouth. I put in some ice, took out a bottle of
Stolichnaya Vodka and poured a couple of ounces.  I added the merest
splash of vermouth and shook. Then I strained the mix into the martini glass.

"Lime or olive?" I asked, pointing to
the small tray of lime zest and olives.

"Lime would be nice."

I put a twist of lime zest into the glass.

"How's that?"

"Perfect." He took the glass and had a
sip, all the while staring at me over the rim. He sighed with pleasure,
smacking his lips, and then pointed to me. "Where'd you learn to mix a
martini?"

"I was a cocktail waitress for a few years
during my undergrad. I trained as a bartender."

"That's right," he said. "Dave
said you're paying your own way using scholarships and working part-time."
He shook his head. "Stubborn girl. You're not having anything?"

"No," I said. "I tend to get a
bit argumentative when I drink. Soda and lime for me."

He chuckled softly at that. "I like
argumentative."

"I thought you were a Dom."

"I am, but that doesn’t mean I like dumb
women," he said. "So you get a bit loose-lipped when you drink? That
tells me that you usually hold your true opinion close to the vest and only let
out your honest thoughts and emotions when under the influence of some kind of
mind-altering substance. Alcohol. Serotonin.
Dopamine
…" he said,
his voice trailing off. "I'll keep that in mind in the future."

I frowned and pretended to ignore his comment,
fixing myself a glass of soda with a squeeze of lime in it. Finally, I turned
to him, avoiding his eyes, which I knew would be filled with amusement at my
predicament.

"How come you're here? You weren't on my
father's guest list."

"I'm one of your fathers biggest supporters.
We met in the health club the other day and I offered my support for his
candidacy for the House. He said he wanted to repay me after I looked after
your injuries at the fundraiser. When I heard you were going to be in
attendance tonight, I was only too happy to accept."

"If you think this changes things, you're
wrong."

"Changes what, Ms. Bennet?"

I glanced at him. Of course, he was smirking.

"The whole business with the research
agreement."

"That's entirely up to you. I'm still all
yours, if you want me."

A thrill ran through me at that. What a master
manipulator. He had to know how that affected me – offering himself to me
as if he were mine to just take. I said nothing for a moment and we each took a
big sip of our drinks.

"Kate, I'm so glad your father invited me.
I've wanted to meet you ever since I met your father and he started talking
about you, but he never brought you anywhere in public. I think I was a bit
infatuated with you just from his description of you."

I frowned, not knowing what to say.

"You took photographs while you were in
Africa?" he said, his voice soft, sexy. "I'd
love
to see them.
See into that mind of yours and what makes you
tick
."

Everything he said took on a dual meaning. Was
it me or was he really trying to be suggestive?

I took in a breath. It had been a while since I
saw them myself and I didn't look forward to it. They were painful.

"I don't know what my father meant by that
– what makes me tick. They're just photos." I started off down the
hallway. "They're in the study."

My body was stiff, my cheeks already hot. I
didn't want to have to engage him so I said nothing as I led him through the
hallways to the study in the south corner of the suite. One entire wall in my
father's study was devoted to my photos from Africa.

Drake closed the door behind us and took my arm,
turning me around gently to face him. I stared at his hand on my arm and he
finally let go.

"I'm sorry if you're unhappy that I'm
here," he said and stepped closer to me. Too close. I took a step
backwards, avoiding his eyes. "Your father wanted me to come early so that
you and I could get to know each other. I'm glad he did."

"Why would he want us to get to know each
other?"

"I guess because I said I thought you were
a lovely young woman and wanted to get to know you better."

My cheeks heated at that. "I thought you
weren't the kind of man someone like me should get involved with."

"You won't let me live that down, will
you?"

"It's just that it would have been nice if
I knew he invited you beforehand."

He stepped closer again, and this time, he
pinned me against the huge mahogany desk. I half leaned half sat on the edge,
keeping my glass of soda between us as if it was a shield, my eyes riveted to
it.

"Would you have found some excuse not to
attend?"

I said nothing, turning my face away from his
too intense gaze. Of course I would have. I would have developed a nasty runny
nose and cough and bowed out.

"I would have liked the choice," I
said. "But of course, my father always has to have things his way."

"He's quite a dominant man himself."

I looked up at him, finally, but avoided his
eyes. He smiled just a bit.

"I can't seem to escape them," I said,
looking away.

"Maybe that's because you don't
want
to."

That made my back stiffen.

"I left home to get away from him.
Listen," I said, pointing a finger at him, focusing on a button on his
suit jacket instead of his eyes. "I can't have
anything
to do with
you, do you understand? I'm writing my research paper about climate change so
unless you know something about that, you and I have nothing to talk
about."

He clucked his tongue. "You're trying too
hard, Kate," he said, taking my finger in his hand and turning it away as
if it was a weapon. Then, he took my hand and opened it, stroking my palm.
"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much and that you do, in fact, want
to have something to do with me."

I pulled my hand out of his and just stared at
his chin so I could avoid his eyes, heat rising to my cheeks – yet
again
.
How he made me blush! I was embarrassed by what he thought of me, knowing he
was my father's friend.

"I don't like being around you," I
said, my voice low.

"I think you
do
," he said, his
voice firm, confident. "You
like
me. You don’t like
the fact
that you like me. You don't want to like me but you can't help it."

"I don’t
believe
you," I said,
my jaw actually dropping that he had the audacity to say that.
"You're," I said, fighting to control my emotions. "You're
awfully certain of yourself."

I tried to sidle by him, but of course he took
my arm once more.

"Yes," he said, his face just a few
inches from mine, his expression intense. "I know what I want."

"Well, so do I. And it's not
you
."

What a liar…

I pulled my arm out of his hand and turned to
the door, and just then, my father entered. He saw me and smiled.

"There you two are." He rubbed his
hands together. "Has she shown you her photographs of Africa yet?"

Drake cleared his throat. "No, she
hasn't."

"Come on, Kate. Show Drake your photos. I
know he's interested. He's been there many times with Doctors Without Borders.
You two have a
lot
in common." He took my hand and then he laid a
hand on Drake's shoulder, pulling us both towards my wall of fame.

Ohhh
. It's then I got it.

Crap
.

My dad was
matchmaking
…

He pushed the two of us over in front of a wall
filled with my pictures from Africa.

Then Peter entered the room. "Judge?
There's a call for you."

My father raised his eyebrows. "Duty calls.
I have to take that, but you two stay here. Kate, show him your photographs.
I'll be back when my call is finished."

He left us alone. Drake turned to face me but I
refused to look at him. I stood and gazed at the wall, my hands clasped around
my glass in front of me.

"You're not really going to make me tell
you about my trip to Africa are you?"

"I most certainly am," Drake said, his
voice soft. "I'm truly interested. I've been to Africa many times.
Besides, I want to see into you, Kate. Right inside. Please, tell me." He
waved at the wall and watched me expectantly.

"Nothing's going to happen between
us," I said. "The meeting was a mistake so you might as well forget
it. There's no reason for you to see 'right inside' me. We're opposites. You
vote Republican. I'm a Democrat."

"None of that matters, Kate, when we fuck.
All that matters is that we both need what each other has to offer."

I inhaled sharply, shocked at how blunt he was
being. "We're not going to…
fuck
," I said, forcing the words
out.

"Whatever you say," he said, smiling.
"I still want you to tell me about these photos. Your father is really
proud."

I turned away and frowned. He had
huge
nerve. Of course, he
was
a Dominant. He was used to getting his
way.  I didn't want to talk about the photographs.

"There are a lot of painful memories in
them."

"Just the happy ones, then."

I took in a deep breath and pointed to a large
picture of Nigel and me in the center. Drake leaned closer.

"That's us, the day we arrived in Niger.
Our driver took it. Nigel had been there before but I had no idea what to
expect and I was so excited."

Drake peered at the picture. Nigel was dressed
in khakis, wearing an outback hat with tiny corks dangling from strings on the
brim. He grinned at the camera. I stood beside him, my face beaming. I had a
huge hat on with a floppy brim and dark sunglasses. We stood on a dirt road and
the sun blazed in a heartless sky.

I told him about several others –
bright-faced children smiling up at the camera. Aid workers in UN uniforms,
stacking sacks of food, others pouring milk into cups or handing out packets of
food and bottles of water. Tents and make-shift shacks made out of cardboard
and corrugated metal, held together by rope.