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"No, stay like this," he said, pulling me closer. "What made you so insecure, Kate?" he said finally. "What happened to you to make you doubt how much a man would desire you?"
I didn't know what to say in response. How could I explain? I tried to find something in my past that could account for it, but there was nothing. I was never abused, I was never shamed outright for anything. I was very well taken care of. There was this weakness in me, somewhere deep inside, that made me doubt that a man could love me. Really love me. He might like to have sex with me. He might like to parade me around as his conquest. But really love me?
"I don’t know," I said and sighed. "Daddy issues?"
He pulled back and looked in my eyes. "Your father loves you so much, Kate."
"I know that now, but I guess I always felt like second best next to Heath. Like I was of no consequence. My father was always doing things with Heath, taking him to games, playing ball with him, showing him off like he was his little clone. I felt like nothing."
He shook his head and then pulled me back against him. "I'm sure he never meant to make you feel that way. He's very proud of you. He kept you away from us bachelors because he knew you were worth more than being arm candy on some hungry dog's arm the way you could have been."
"Arm candy? Me?" I said and laughed. "Hardly."
"You don’t think you qualify as arm candy?" he said, his voice disbelieving. "You are the definition of arm candy to me, with the delicious advantage of being brain candy and heart candy. I wish you knew that. I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you do."
I smiled against his shoulder and squeezed him a bit tighter, my chest tight, my throat constricting.
CHAPTER FIVE
A few days later, Drake had a day off so we could do some shopping. I woke early and had a shower while Drake slept. After I finished up in the bathroom, Drake had a shower, and we sat in the living room and had our breakfast, brought in by our butler, the food hot, the coffee fresh. Later, we sat on our small patio and enjoyed the view of the estate, the wind a breath of warm air, the sky clear except for a few high clouds. In the distance, the Ngong Hills were dark against a bight blue sky.
Drake turned to me. "We get the place next week. What do you say we ask Jan if we can go to the house and take some measurements? We could go shopping for furniture."
"That sounds nice," I said, smiling. "Where do Kenyan's shop for furniture in Nairobi?"
Drake shrugged. "I have no idea."
I picked up my cell. "Claire will know. I'll call her." While I made my call, Drake read the local papers.
Claire answered on the third ring. "Kate. Nice to hear from you," she said her voice sounding pleased. "What can I do for you?"
"Drake and I chose a house and we want to do some shopping for furniture. We get possession next weekend so we want the furniture to be delivered before we move in."
She gave me a few suggestions, and I scribbled them down on a hotel notepad on the desk.
"Thanks so much," I said, glad that we knew someone in the city.
"Make sure to invite Michael and me for dinner soon," she said and laughed. "I'm eager to see your place. If you want, I can take you to the Institute tomorrow and you can try to register in an art studio class like we discussed. We can go for lunch and then I can take you over to the Institute. I have some overtime banked so I can take it tomorrow."
"That sounds great," I said, a surge of excitement in me at the prospect of taking a studio class. "Drake will be working tomorrow, so I'm as free as a bird. I'd love to."
I ended the call and turned to Drake, who was looking at me expectantly.
"Well?" he said, putting his paper down. "What did Claire say?"
"She gave me a few ideas of where to shop." I handed him the list of stores.
"What else did she say? It sounded like you two were going to get together."
I shrugged. "She suggested that I register in a studio art class through the Institute. That way I'll meet some students. Maybe make a few new friends who share my love of art."
He nodded, but said nothing, his brow furrowed. A moment passed. I thought he'd have something more to say about it, but instead, he was strangely silent.
"You don't mind, do you?" I said, noticing his reticence. I sat beside him, my thigh pressed against his knee.
He opened his paper to another section, and didn't meet my eye. "Why would I mind? You love art. You should do art."
I sighed. "You seemed, I don't know, a little hesitant."
