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I smiled and buried my head in his shoulder. He kissed me softly and then stroked my cheek. "Goodnight, my love," he said.
"Goodnight."
Then I turned over so that he lay behind me, one hand around my waist, the other hand beneath my breast. In mere minutes, I could hear he was asleep. I lay in the darkness, his warmth permeating my body, and thought about the evening. Despite being tired from all the wine, I couldn't fall asleep, the image of him in such an intimate pose with Sam at the party, how she'd leaned in close to him, all smiles, touching his arm, plaguing my mind's eye. She was beautiful, smart, and was a surgeon. She'd had sex with him before. She'd be with him more than I would be during the next few weeks while he shadowed Michael at the hospital.
I had to trust Drake that he truly wasn't interested in her. It was nothing.
CHAPTER TWO
We slept in late, and when I woke, Drake was lying beside me, facing my back, one arm curled under his head, a pillow on top to block out the light. Despite the chill from the air conditioning, he was uncovered, his body so beautiful in the morning light.
I stretched and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. I went to the bathroom, showering quickly. Then, I brushed my teeth and slipped back into bed beside him, my back still facing him. I pulled the sheet over my naked body and lay with my eyes open, unable to fall back to sleep, wondering what the day would bring and what Drake had planned. He'd been to Nairobi several times over the years and knew the city pretty well, thanks to the good hosting skills of Michael and Claire. He knew the tourist traps and the local hangouts. As usual, I felt in good hands with Drake. So competent. So in control.
Long moments passed as I waited for Drake to awaken, and finally, I heard the sheets rustle and he slipped his arm around me and pulled me against his body. Immediately, my body warmed at his touch, the warmth from his bare skin on mine.
"Good morning, future Mrs. Drake Morgan."
I smiled and lay on my back, turning to look in his face. "You mean Ms. Katherine McDermott, future wife of Drake Morgan, M.D."
"You're not going to take my name?" His voice was light, but there was a note of hesitancy in it. Drake was always so playful, I wasn't sure if it was mock or real.
"We never really talked about it." I watched his expression. "I always swore as a modern feminist that I'd never take on a man's name if I married."
His eyes were hooded, the slightest smile on his lips. "You don't appreciate patriarchal traditions?" I could hear barely suppressed mirth in his voice.
"I'm not a possession."
He said nothing for a moment and I waited, my breath held. The mood in the room had chilled suddenly.
I exhaled finally. "Do you want me to take your name?"
"Of course. As my slave, you must take on your master's name…"
I frowned and stared in his eyes. Then, he burst out laughing and tickled me. I squirmed under this touch, and giggled uncontrollably.
"I'm kidding," he said. "I always assumed you'd keep your own name so I was only playing around when I called you Mrs. Drake Morgan. It's the most formal thing I could think of at the time."
When he stopped tickling me, I took in a deep breath.
"I'm serious, Drake," I said and reached out to brush a hank of his hair from his eyes. "What do you want?"
"I want you to be mine completely, but that's more a matter of the mind and soul. A name is just a name and if you don't feel it, taking on my name would mean nothing."
"I thought you wanted me to remain my own woman. Those were your words."
He exhaled. "Of course I do. But one who gives herself to me completely. That's what marriage is. Complete and total exclusion of all others. We are each other's property. No one else's."
I nodded. "I will and I do."
"Good. Whatever you decide about taking my name is fine, as long as you marry me." He pulled me closer and kissed me softly on the lips. Then he pulled back. "Hey, no fair! You already showered and brushed your teeth."
I grinned and slipped my arms around his waist, nuzzling his neck, kissing the skin beneath his ear, enjoying the smooth skin of his back beneath my hands. "Early bird gets the fresh breath."
He tickled me again and I squirmed, laughing as I tried to wriggle away from him. Then he rolled out of bed and strode to the bathroom, his morning erection delicious looking. I felt a twitch in my groin at the sight of his naked butt through the bathroom doorway as he stood at the toilet. He had such a wonderful body, his muscles smooth and well-defined, but he wasn't too cut so that he looked like granite, like some bodybuilders. He had some flesh on his body, the way I liked it.
"How often do you work out?" I called from the bed.
He turned to the sink and washed his hands. "Before I met you? Couple times a week. After I met you? Zero. I'll have to use the university weight room and track if I don't want to become a fat old man."
