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"Technically, very skilled. Nice feel to the piece – warm. So that's the fiancé? How big is it?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"How big is what?" I said, frowning. What did he mean? Was he being suggestive?

"The canvas, of course."

My cheeks heated. "Nine by six."

"Quite big," he said and smiled. For a moment, I thought I saw his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.

If he was asking how big it was, there was no way he saw us having sex in a public room at the dungeon. I relaxed a bit. Perhaps he only saw me at the party. Perhaps Drake didn't take me into one of the public rooms after all…

He passed my phone to the next person and so my phone made the rounds, everyone looking with interest at my art. My cheeks were blazing hot from the innuendo he made, and from the attention, but I was proud of the painting. It was beautiful, with the light making Drake's fair skin look luminous. I wish I had an image of the full nude to show Sefton, so he'd know how big Drake was. Then, I felt a bit foolish. That would bring me down to his level.

We finished our dessert and I felt restless, but Claire seemed in no rush to leave. I checked my cell but there was no message from Drake. I hoped he wasn’t mad.

Finally, we paid our bill and people began to leave. As I was walking from the room, Sefton caught up with me and stood close to me. Too close.

"Glad to know what the competition is," Sefton said, a sly grin on his mouth.

"What do you mean by that?" I said, frowning.

"Oh," he said and made a face of mock guilt. "I mean competition in the art world, of course. What else could I possibly mean?"

I forced a smile. "Nothing."

"I hope you're able to join my class. That is, unless your fiancé has you all tied up."

I said nothing in reply. He was obviously referring to bondage. It had to be. When I turned to the door, he was right there, holding it open for me. His face was unreadable. There was no amusement in his eyes. He looked calm.

Dammit.

I was even more convinced that I shouldn't take a studio class from him.

"You're very talented, Kate," he said. "I'd be honored to have you as a student. Seriously, you're good. It's nice to surround yourself with talented people. They inspire you to improve."

"I'll consider it." Of course, I had no intention of taking his class.

"Please do."

And then, he went to a woman I met earlier, an African woman named Niara who was beautiful with long braids and a colorful dress. He put his arm over her shoulder and they left the restaurant together.

"That's a surprise," Claire said to me as we left the restaurant behind them. "He's usually not that demonstrative with Niara."

"They're together?"

"Oh, yes. They've been seeing each other quietly for several months since he arrived in September of last year but he's not monogamous. Quite the lothario. A bit like Drake used to be."

I frowned. Drake the Rake is what she and Michael had called Drake when we first arrived in Nairobi. Still, it was impolite to refer to it, even jokingly.

I left the restaurant, exhaling with relief.

I couldn't wait to get back to the hotel and Drake.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Claire dropped me off at the front entrance to the hotel and I made my way to our room. I was glad to see Drake, though I felt guilty that I hadn't been there waiting for him, especially considering how much I'd missed him all week.

He was sitting in the darkened living room, facing the patio doors when I entered.

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