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I shook my head. "Ignore me."
"You have no reason to be insecure. Sam's a resident. A fellow surgeon. Female surgeons are almost never submissive, so even if I was looking, she wouldn’t be on my radar." He pulled me hard against his body, his eyes intense. "And I'm not looking, so you can relax. No one but you is on my radar. I'm all yours. Every inch of me."
His expression took my breath away and I melted against him, a surge of desire going through me as I thought about all his inches.
"I love every inch of you, Dr. Delish," I said, trying to lighten my mood. "It's just that I know other women would love you as well."
"Other men would love you, too, Katherine," he said, his voice firm. "Admit it, we're both catches. We caught each other. It's settled." He grinned at me.
I smiled back, the last vestiges of my jealousy dissipating.
Drake kissed me firmly before he left the hotel. "Make sure you have that massage oil on hand when I get back. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."
I had a quick swim in the hotel pool and after I lay in the warm sunshine for about half an hour, I went inside our room and had a shower. I was sitting in my robe, examining the room service menu when the room phone rang. I picked it up and checked the call display, thinking it might be Drake saying he would be coming home sooner than thought.
It was Claire. "Kate, I know you're all alone tonight. Why don't you come with me to the Art Institute? There's a faculty exhibit of work to welcome the new art students. There's a wine and cheese reception. You could meet some of the other students."
"I don’t know, Claire," I said. "I'm not even registered."
"That doesn't matter. I know the Dean. He'll be there and will be only too happy to see a new foreign student. Your fees are many times higher than those of Kenyan residents."
"I don't know…"
"Michael and Drake will be very late, Kate. Don’t expect Drake home until closer to midnight, if these things go as they usually do. We'll go out, have a glass of wine and some snacks, meet a few people, and then you and I can go for dinner together. Better than eating all alone in your hotel room."
"If you think it would be OK," I said, a twinge of excitement at seeing the faculty member's artwork. Plus, the chance to meet a few students would be nice. "I don’t want to impose."
"It wouldn’t be imposing. Now, put on a little black dress and I'll be by in fifteen minutes."
Claire seemed as if she wouldn't take no for an answer, so I did as she suggested, and dressed in my only little black dress, put on some heels and made sure to wear my diamond choker. No one would know what it meant, but I wanted to make sure I wore it at all times when in public even though Drake wouldn’t see me. I'd see myself in any mirror, and it would make me feel good, possessed. Loved.
CHAPTER SIX
We drove through the city to the Institute of Fine Arts, located in a middle-class suburb of Nairobi. As we arrived, I took out my cell for in my rush to get ready, I'd forgotten to leave Drake a text message that I was going out with Claire. When I found my cell at the bottom of my bag, it was dead.
"My battery died," I said. "I forgot to leave Drake a message. Can you leave one for me?"
Claire waved her hand. "Don't worry. I'll leave Michael a message once we get to the college and he'll let Drake know you're with me."
I nodded, happy that Drake would know I was out with Claire, in case he tried to call me.
"Why don't you use my charger?" Claire said and pointed to the iPhone charger in her car. I nodded and attached my phone to the charger. It would draw a charge off the battery while we were at the reception.
The party was held in a room decorated in bright colors, the artwork on the walls mirroring the brightness of the decor. A couple dozen people were present, dressed up in cocktail dresses, traditional African clothing, and a few sober suits. The mix of Africans to Europeans was about three to one.
Claire marched right up to a tall African man with long dreads, wearing something I'd expect to see in an art studio in Manhattan - jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a thick black belt. They embraced and spoke to each other softly before turning me. I stood a few feet away, waiting to be introduced.
"Nial, may I introduce Kate McDermott. Kate, this is Nial Mbuno, one of the faculty members here at the Institute. Kate's an artist from Manhattan who's here for six months and would like to take a studio class if possible. Is it too late to register?"
Nial looked me over and smiled, extending his hand. "Our classes are pretty full, but there are a few open studio classes you could take. What are you interested in? Drawing or painting?"
"Either," I said, feeling a bit shy. Claire was making
me out to be something I wasn't.
"Did you study in Manhattan?"
I nodded. "Columbia. A few art classes. My major was journalism."
