The Agreement (Unrestrained 1)

Mrs. Kropotkin closed her door.

CHAPTER FIVE

A few days passed and I hadn't heard anything more from Drake Morgan. I had to admit I was a bit upset. I thought he'd at least make contact with me, text me, but nothing. Right about then I was starting to regret I'd turned down his request to come in, or go on a date.

Then, I mentally knocked myself in the head. What a silly woman I was… He was no good for me. I'd get into some kind of trouble if I let myself become involved with him. My father would hear about it somehow and I'd have one more big strike against me in his mind.

The following Thursday, I was sitting in my father's apartment, wearing a new cocktail dress he insisted buying for me because this was his first campaign fundraising dinner and he wanted me and Heath to be in attendance. I wore something his campaign stylist brought in for me, chosen from a selection of a dozen expensive dresses, shoes, and jewelry. We had to look perfect as a family. My father's new wife, Elaine, who was only a decade older than me, Heath's wife, Christie, and I made our choices. After the dresses were altered to fit us to perfection, I went to my father's apartment to be 'styled' by the makeup artist and hair stylist he hired to make sure we looked perfect. I wore a silky black dress with a plunging neckline and understated jewelry, my hair down.

She actually spray-painted makeup and eye shadow on my face. I couldn’t believe it. My father whistled when he saw me, making me blush.

The dinner was catered, of course, and there was a bustle in the apartment as the servers and chef busied themselves setting the table and preparing the food. There was even a bar set up in the large dining room, fresh flower arrangements everywhere and hot appetizers – even Russian caviar flown in from St. Petersburg and fresh Alaskan salmon. An ice sculpture…

Father spared no expense for the event.

Twenty of 'his people' as he called them would be in attendance to discuss his candidacy. They would all be expected to make big donations. They would retire to the study after dinner and talk strategy.

I was given the itinerary. I would stand around with him and Elaine, with Heath and Christie, and have a drink. We'd mix and mingle before dinner. We'd have our meal. Then, the serious business would happen and I'd be excused. My only consolation was that Nigel would be in attendance.

Thank God.

I grew up in this old apartment and it held a lot of memories. It had been in my father's family for several generations – since the turn of the 20th century. One day, it would be Heath's. But tonight, it was the setting for my father's campaign event. All I really wanted to do was go home and work on my article on the IPCC's next round of climate talks, but this was family business.

Judge McDermott requested your attendance. You didn't turn Judge McDermott down.

The invitations went out two weeks earlier, and cocktails were set to start at 6:30 with dinner at 7:30. It was now 6:05 and I sat in the living room and checked my iPhone for messages from Dawn. I wanted to invite her but father said no, it was just family and his people tonight.

Someone arrived early and I wondered who it was? It was so not appropriate for guests to arrive before the allotted time. Must be a buffoon who was rich but not used to the usual protocol for these kinds of events.

The event planner answered the door and in walked Dr. Drake Morgan looking like a hundred-million-odd bucks.

What?

I froze. Was he invited? I saw the guest list and never saw his name. Maybe he was just popping in? He did know my father…

He looked… devastating. While the organizer took his coat, I saw he was wearing a very expensive black suit with a deep royal blue shirt and black tie. His hair was sexy, black and shiny and just a bit wild from the wind outside, falling just below his collar in the back, and there was a fashionably-stylish amount of whiskers on his face. He scanned the entryway and then he saw me sitting in the living area in front of the fireplace. A surge of adrenaline went through me when our eyes met. He slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled, that quirk of a half-smile, his eyes twinkling.

Crap…

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nbsp; I wanted to go to my old bedroom and hide the way I used to when I was a kid, but I was almost twenty-five. I had to stay there and entertain our guests.

Drake just stared at me, as if he was waiting for me to invite him in. I sighed, then I went to him, my hands held behind my back because I just knew that he'd want to kiss my hand the way he had before.

"Doctor Morgan," I said, my voice a bit shaky.

"Ms. Bennet," he said softly, low enough so that no one could overhear. "You look… breathtaking."

I made a face at that, hiding my smile behind a hand. The dress I wore was very feminine. Black velvet with a square neckline that happened to show off my cleavage a bit too much for my tastes but the stylist assured me it was all the fashion.

Of course, Drake extended his hand and it was just then that my father breezed into the entryway.

"Oh, Drake, there you are."

I had to shake Drake's hand. My father would expect it. I held out my hand and Drake took it and he kissed my knuckles briefly, his eyes never leaving mine. I knew that if my father hadn't been there, he wouldn’t have let go. I just knew. He was that kind of man – the kind who didn't let you forget that he was male and you were female.

Drake turned to my father. "Judge McDermott," he said, extending his hand. "Thanks once again for inviting me tonight."