Unrestrained: Book 3 of the Unrestrained Series

by Lund, S. E.

  "What do you mean?" I said, but then I realized exactly what he meant. He meant kneeling, wearing only my garters and hose, my head bowed. In submissive mode for a scene.

  "You know what I mean." Then, he kissed me briefly but intensely, one hand tangled in my hair, pulling me against his mouth. "I need to do a scene with you tonight to wipe his memory from both our minds. What do you think, Katherine?"

  "Whatever you want," I said, frustrated that he took things the wrong way with Sefton.

  "I want," he said. "I'll let you know later when I'll be home."

  I smiled at him, forcing myself to mean it even though my chest was tight with emotion, my cheeks heating at the thought he took everything wrong.

  He kissed me one last time, roughly, and then he tapped Jomo on the shoulder to indicate that he was ready and the taxicab drove away.

  As I expected, I was alone all evening once more. Drake texted me at seven to say he'd be late again because of an emergency head injury from a collision on the Mombasso Road.

  I know I intended to do a scene with you tonight, but once again, we have multiple patients and I have to stay until Michael is convinced they're stable.

  I texted him back, trying to allay his fears about Sefton.

  Drake, please don't take what happened at the Institute the wrong way. Sefton was apologizing for being improper with me and promised to be completely professional from now on.

  Drake responded immediately.

  You're very naïve, Kate. But this is something I should have known I'd have to deal with. You're young and inexperienced in the ways of men, especially Dominant men. I'm sorry to have been so busy lately and that you feel neglected. I swear I haven't been worked like this since I was a resident. I don’t know where Michael gets the energy but he beats me in that department. He thrives on work, according to him. Says he feels 'alive' when he's working a trauma case.

  Don't think this is how our life together will be. It won’t. You're everything to me, and if you don't feel that, I've failed.

  I sighed and texted back, not wanting to argue with him, but wanting him to understand Sefton was nothing to me.

  Please don't worry about Sefton. He's nothing to me. He's an art instructor who might help me improve. That's all. I love you.

  I made some blackberry tea and waited for his response but there was none. He must not have received my text. I was determined to wait up for him in case he was in the mood when he got back, although I suspected that like every other late night, Drake would come home, undress, brush his teeth and crash.

  I watched the late news, tidied up the kitchen and then went to bed. I left the light on and read a book on my laptop, but soon, I was yawning and decided to put my laptop on the nightstand and close my eyes for a moment. I checked the clock and it read 11:13. Drake should be home any moment…

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I didn't even hear him when he came in.

  When I next opened my eyes, I heard Drake in the bathroom, showering. The sun was rising and beams of light filtered in from under the drapes. I sat up in bed, surprised that he didn't wake me up.

  He came into the room, a towel around his waist and went to his chest of drawers.

  "What time did you get in? I didn’t even know you'd come to bed."

  Drake dropped his towel and slipped on a pair of navy boxer briefs. His hair was still wet.

  "That's because I slept at the hospital."

  "Drake… Not because of what happened?"

  He shook his head. "There was a seven car pile up on the Mombasso Road and we had a multiple casualty event. I was in charge of three patients and had to watch them until they were stable so I stayed and caught up with some paperwork. I fell asleep in the resident's room and came home to shower and change clothes."

  I glanced at the bed beside me where Drake usually slept. It was still neat, the covers tucked in.

  "That's too bad," I said, and for a moment, I couldn't help but think of Drake spending the night with Sam. I pushed that thought out of my head and instead, watched Drake dress, pulling on a clean pair of trousers and shirt. "Why are you up so early? You have this weekend off."

  "We're taking call for Keith."

  I sighed. "I hope you got some sleep at least or your day will be a pain."

  "A few hours."

  He came over to the bed and leaned over me, his hands on either side of my body. He stared at me for a few moments, his eyes dark under a frown. Then, he took in a deep breath.

  "I'm sorry I wasn't home last night," he said, his voice finally warm. "I can't really promise to make it up to you tonight, but I'll try."

  I forced a smile and pressed my fingers against his lips. "Don't promise me anything. I know you have to do this. I'll have to learn to amuse myself when you're working late."

  He sat beside me on the bed, his arms still on either side of me as if he was trying to keep me lying there, under his control.

  "I'm sure this wasn't what you expected when you came with me. I'm sorry. This is important to me, helping Michael, teaching. But you are my love." He seemed really concerned, as if he thought I was unhappy.

  I shook my head, but in truth, I didn't know what I expected. All I knew was that I missed him terribly, but I didn’t want to upset him.

  "It's all right," I said, trying my best to sound nonchalant. "Things will get better soon enough once you're no longer Michael's shadow."

  He leaned down closer and kissed my cheek, then my chin and then the tops of my breasts, pressing his nose between them and inhaling.

  "You smell so warm and delicious. I better go quickly or I won't be able to drag myself away from you."

  I smiled when he kissed my breasts once more and then he was off, grabbing his suit jacket from the hanger in the closet. He stopped at the door before leaving and looked back at me.

  "If I can't make it up to you tonight, tomorrow night for sure," he said, raising his eyebrows.

  I shook my head. "No promises, Drake. We'll do what we can when we can. That's good enough for me."

  He stood for a moment longer as if he was afraid to leave, but finally, he nodded and was gone.

  I sighed and lay still under the covers, a mix of disappointment and sadness in me. I didn’t have class, so I planned on spending my day working on the painting of Drake in the bath.

  There was a bit of unpacking left to do in my studio, but other than some laundry, I was a free spirit. Sadly, my spirit wasn't as free as I was, and I didn't look forward to today, for I could tell Drake was not happy either.

  Claire called around eleven, asking if I wanted to go for lunch to a local hotspot where all the expats liked to eat, since Drake and Michael were on call.

  "Sure," I said. "I need to get out and do something."

  She picked me up at 12:30 and we drove to Serrano, a restaurant in downtown Nairobi that catered to the foreign crowd of tourists and conference attendees. The room was bright with mirrors on the walls and huge glass chandeliers. The main dining room was crowded, filled with Europeans, and the room was abuzz with conversations, the white-aproned waiters threading through tables with trays of food.

  Claire and I sat at a table for four that she had reserved off to the side of the room, so we were out of the main traffic area and the noise level was lower where we sat.

  "Tell me how your class has been going," she said and sipped her white wine, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

  I spoke about Talia Abasi, my instructor and about the class design and intent. Then, I told her about Sefton deVilliers being there with his class for a few weeks.

  "Really?" she said and pursed her lips. "I knew he was teaching a class but thought it was a master class."

  "He does," I said. "I was invited to take the class but I decided to stay with Talia."

  "Why aren't you going to take it?" she asked, seeming surprised and slightly disapproving.

  I shook my head. "I was tempted," I said and pondered how much to tell her about Sefton's
behavior. I couldn't really tell her anything. What could I say? That he was pestering me about my relationship with Drake?

  I decided to tell her nothing.

  "But I wanted to take the drawing class so I could get caught up," I added. "I haven't taken a class for several years."

  "But to be invited to attend the master class! What an honor!"

  I nodded, and drank my tea, hoping she didn't push it too much.

  When the waiter returned with our meals, who showed up but Mr. Inappropriate himself, dressed in a fine light grey suit and white shirt, the neck open. He was alone and when he saw us, he made a face and then came over. A shock went through me – this couldn't be a coincidence. Claire must have told him. I watched Claire's face when Sefton arrived.

  She seemed completely surprised.

  "Sefton!" she said, extending her hand. He took it and kissed her knuckles.

  "Claire," he said, and then turned to me. "Ms. McDermott. What a pleasant surprise."

  "Quite," Claire said and smiled at us both. "What a coincidence! Don’t you have an exhibition coming up?"

  "All work and no play makes for a dull boy, or so they say." He turned and gave me a pointed look. "Luckily, my time is my own and so I can devote myself to whatever I fancy at the time, whether art or love."

  Then the beautiful woman who Sefton had been with the night of the party entered the restaurant. She glanced over and saw Sefton, but strangely, she didn’t come over. Instead, she remained standing by the doorway as if waiting for Sefton to come to her.

  "Speaking of love…" he said and smiled. "Good to see you again, Ms. McDermott. Claire. I better run. My…" he said and hesitated. "My friend has arrived." He bowed to us and then turned to join the woman.

  We both watched as the hostess seated them at a table on the other side of the restaurant.

  "Of all the restaurants in a city like Nairobi, isn’t it a strange coincidence that we're here at the same time," I said, watching Claire.

  "Yes," Claire said and smiled widely. "Serrano is very popular among the South African crowd. Of course Sefton would be likely to come here."

  Claire smiled but said nothing more, taking another sip from her wine.

  "That's his girlfriend?" I said, wanting to dig for information, but trying not to sound too interested.

  "They're not really public about it. I think they're more casual than committed. You know artists," she said and wagged her eyebrows suggestively. "Free spirits sexually."

  I made a face of surprise at that. "I hadn’t heard that."

  "Oh, yes," she said and nodded. "Artists are the happiest with their sex lives. I read a study on it a while back. They're the best lovers, from what their partners have said."

  I tried hard not to react to that, thinking that Sefton could only be a bad lover, given his lack of awareness of how rude he came off. I wondered what kind of Dom he was, suspecting that he was a bit of a sadist, probably delighting in administering pain. Or humiliating his partner.

  "Interesting," was all I could say without being rude myself.

  I watched as a waitress took their orders. They sat side by side, close to each other, the way Drake and I sat when we were out together. He draped an arm around the back of her chair and she seemed really pleased to have him so close. A tiny bit of envy went through me and I wished I were out for lunch with Drake, sitting like that, instead of with Claire. I sighed and resumed eating my salad, a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. Drake had been so busy trying to get caught up to speed at the hospital, taking on his class load, and shadowing Michael, that we'd barely had time alone together.

  I couldn’t wait for things to slow down for him so we could go out for a meal like this. I couldn't help but watch Sefton with his girlfriend who wasn't really a girlfriend. He was so attentive to her, stroking her cheek with a finger while he talked to her, his eyes on her face. She smiled and kept her eyes down and I wondered if she wasn’t a submissive…

  Then, he turned to the restaurant, scanning the other diners and his gaze came to rest squarely on me. Our eyes met and I jerked my head away, but before I did, he caught me looking and started to smile as if pleased that I was watching him.

  Damn…

  I was envious of the way he was treating his girlfriend. I was envious that she had her man's attention, the way I wished I had Drake's. Sefton had said that if I were 'his' – his sub in other words – he'd never let me out of his sight and I wondered if he was a Master to his girlfriend or just a Dom. Were they 24/7? Claire had said they really weren't a true couple but did she know about BDSM? If not, she could be completely wrong about them.

  If Sefton was that woman's Master, he really shouldn’t be hitting on me, but then again, some in the lifestyle were polyamorous and had multiple play partners. I tried to block him out of my mind for he was taking up far too much of my mental attention.

  "Penny for your thoughts?" Claire said, her eyebrows raised.

  I shook my head. "You'd need a fortune for mine today." I said nothing more, forcing a smile.

  "Sounds serious."

  I sighed. "Not really. I miss Drake. He's been so busy…"

  Claire patted my hand. "You'll get used to it. Luckily, you have me." She smiled widely at that. "I've been married to a surgeon for several decades and know how to cope. Before we had children, I had my own practice and was equally busy. Medicine isn't just a job, Kate. It's a lifestyle. It's a calling. It's hard for people outside to understand and adapt."

  I frowned at the mention of lifestyle. Did she mean to use that word or was it a coincidence?

  "Does it get any easier?" I said, watching Sefton toying with his girlfriend's hand. I turned to face her. "Do you miss him less and less?"

  Claire shook her head. "You still miss him, but if you keep yourself busy enough, you don’t notice it until he's with you and then you realize how much time you're apart from each other. Your relationship has to be really solid to withstand the separation. There are many temptations for both the doctor and for their spouse. You have to have a really strong bond to withstand them."

  I took in a deep breath and focused on my meal, trying to put Sefton out of my mind.

  Our dessert came and I spooned the delicious crème caramel into my mouth, savoring the creamy texture and sweetness.

  We talked about the upcoming artist safari and then about Liam, Drake's son.

  "How did you take that? Meeting his ex-wife and seeing his son? Must have been quite the surprise for everyone."

  "Meeting his ex-wife and his son was a surprise, but what didn't surprise me was how Drake handled things. He was heroic," I said, remembering Drake's ordeal as he went through the prep for donation and then the donation itself. "He'll be a great father one day."

  "How soon after you get married are you two planning on starting a family?"

  I shrugged. "We haven't talked about it very much," I said. "Drake was always reluctant to have children because of the genetic link to childhood leukemia in his family. Plus, he never felt as if he knew what a good father was."

  Claire frowned. "Liam was the best father he knew how to be, but he was such an adrenaline junkie, he had to be busy all the time. Drake will be a great father. He's solid. Dependable. But he is getting older, so he should probably have children soon." She looked me over. "You're at the perfect age to have children."

  "I have a lot to do before I want to have children, if we do." I took a sip of my coffee, uncomfortable with this line of discussion. I wasn't sure if Drake and I would even have children for we hadn't really discussed it and I knew I didn’t want to even consider it so soon after Liam's illness. I had to finish my Masters, and I wanted to pursue my art. It was far too early to think about children. We weren't even married yet.

  "Don't want to wait too long or else you'll be old when you need your energy levels to be at their highest. Some women make that mistake and then struggle with the demands of motherhood. If I were you, I'd have them right away. Drake i
sn't getting any younger."

  I forced a smile. "Drake doesn't seem to be in any hurry to have children."

  "I'm sorry," Claire said and smiled. "He's like my foster son. I have only his best interest at heart, so I hope you don't think I'm meddling."

  "Of course not," I said, smiling once more, although I did feel like she was meddling. "I know you care about him. It's great that he has people who do, given how he was estranged from his mother at a young age and felt neglected by his father."

  "Poor Drake," Claire said, sighing loudly. "We wanted to find him a wife so badly when he was here before. We thought maybe one of his students, or perhaps a nurse at the hospital… But here you are, his future bride, and not even in the medical field." She smiled at me, but I couldn't help but think it looked a bit forced. "You can imagine how surprised we were that you two got back together, and were getting married after such a short affair."

  " Our romance was short, but we both felt the same way," I said, feeling a bit defensive and wondering whether she knew about Sam after all.

  A sense of disquiet settled over me, despite Claire's friendly behavior and smile.

  We left the restaurant and I had done my level best not to watch Sefton with his girlfriend for it only made me feel sad that I was away from Drake so much.

  Claire dropped me off at home and I spent the afternoon in a bit of a funk, not doing any work on my paintings, and instead, sitting in front of the television watching world news.

  My cell pinged and I checked my messages, expecting Drake. It was him, as I thought.

  How are you, Ms. Bennet? Missing me much? I miss you…

  I texted him back right away.

  I miss you so much, you wouldn’t believe. When will you be home?

  I waited for his response, watching the little dots indicating he was writing.