The huge oak door to his apartment looked even more forbidding than usual, and yet it wasn't that long ago that Cathy had felt no qualms whatsoever about being at his apartment.
She was shaking as she waited for a reaction to her ring on the doorbell, her heart leaping nervously as she heard some movement inside.
Her first thought as he opened the door was how magnificent he looked. Dominic was always ruggedly handsome, but in a dark dinner suit and snowy white shirt he was devastating.
'You're going out,' she blurted out in realisation; why else would he be dressed in this way?
His eyes glowed darkly green as he took in her own appearance in the clinging black gown and grey wrap-around.
'David and Jade sent me over with this.' She held up the champagne bottle, becoming flustered when he made no response to her first statement, and talking too fast in her agitation. 'As you didn't make it to their party,' she added lamely.
Dominic still looked at her with those dark, glowing eyes. 'I was just on my way over there.' His voice was husky.
'Oh!' She swallowed hard.
'To see you,' he added softly.
'Oh!' She sounded even more squeakily surprised the second time she made the exclamation.
'How have you been?' He looked at her searchingly.
'Fine.' She nodded; anyone could see she hadn't been sleeping well, that her eyes were dark, and her cheeks pale.
'I haven't,' he told her quietly.
Cathy looked at him with wide eyes; he looked as fit and healthy as she had ever seen him, and there was a new air about him, a sense of anticipation she had never seen before.
'Come inside.' He gently took hold of her arm and guided her into the entrance hall, closing the door behind them. 'I have some things I want—need to tell you,' he said as soon as they reached the austerely masculine living-room decorated in its beiges and browns. 'And then I want to ask you something.'
'If it's about a baby—'
'Will you stop going on about that, woman?' he scolded exasperatedly.
'But there definitely isn't one,' she felt compelled to make clear.
He drew in a ragged breath. 'OK, there isn't one. But whether there were or not has nothing to do with what I want to say to you.'
Cathy sat down abruptly in one of the spacious armchairs, dropping her wrap back against the leather.
'It's at times like this that I wish I smoked,' Dominic said grimly, shrugging resignedly before sighing heavily. 'To start with, the "S" of my middle name stands for Stanton. It was my mother's maiden name,' he explained gruffly. 'I stopped using anything but the initial on the day my mother walked out on my father and me one Christmas and the two of them were killed in a car accident when he tried to bring her back.'
The part about his mother having left them, particularly at that time of year, was what she had already suspected, although she hadn't realised the 'S' in his name stood for his mother's maiden name. That explained a lot in itself.
But she said nothing herself, knowing-it was a time for Dominic to talk, not her.
'I was brought up by my aunt, my father's sister,' he said harshly. 'A cheerless woman who believed in making sure I knew exactly what a burden I was to her, even though she considered it her "duty" to at least supply me with the basics of life.' The last was stated without emotion. 'It was because of that attitude that I swore I would never be dependent on anyone else for money ever again.'
She had known a demon drove him, but she hadn't realised what it was.
'I hadn't realised—hadn't realised,' he started again, drawing in a deep controlling breath, 'quite how much I had let my past influence me until Ann came to the cottage that day and all my bitterness returned.'
Cathy wanted to tell him she knew what he had done for the other couple, but the time for that would come later. Dominic still needed to talk.
'Against Ann, this time,' he continued, running a hand through the dark thickness of his hair. 'Good God, the woman was desperate, at the end of her tether; no wonder she ran away. How the hell do I know my mother didn't go through a similar crisis? Even if she didn't, an eight-year-old isn't of any age to judge what was right or wrong. My father loved her enough to want to try to bring her back to us, and how do I know he hadn't succeeded and they were on their way back when the accident happened? I was so wrong about Ann; I could have been wrong about my mother too.'
He had been doing a lot of thinking the last week. But he looked more at peace because of it. That spark of hope she had retained the last few days began to flower again.
'I'd like to give her the benefit of the doubt, anyway,' he said quietly. 'Once I'd accepted that, it wasn't difficult to realise the mess I've made of my own life, all the things I've missed out on because of prejudices I don't even know if I have the right to feel.' He shrugged ruefully, as if he were finally shrugging off the past. 'Are you able to give me the benefit of the doubt?' He looked at Cathy hopefully.
Her heart leapt. 'In what way?'
Dominic shook his head. 'Women have been a non-event for most of my life, and for the past five years a complete non-event,' he grimaced. 'It was only when I faced the prospect of Christmas without you that I realised why that was.'
'Christmas without me?' Cathy repeated dazedly, vaguely recalling that strange look on his face that day Peter had made a similar comment.
'Cathy, I haven't needed any other women in my life since you came into it because you fulfilled every need I had at the time,' he said self-derisively. 'And when I thought you were rushing down to Devon to spend Christmas with David I have to admit you raised a few needs I never knew I had. A few emotions too.'
She swallowed hard. 'Christmas with David?' she prompted for something to say, trembling at the hopes—and dreams—his words had resurrected.
Dominic gave her an indulgent smile. 'You forgot to mention Jade or their engagement when you said David was at Penny's and Simon's.'
Her eyes widened. 'I did?'
'Mm,' he confirmed ruefully. 'It was bad enough that you no longer worked for me, but you seemed to be leaving to go to another man, too. I'd never felt jealousy before, but I definitely felt it then. I don't even know what my intentions were when I offered to drive you to Penny's and Simon's; I just knew I couldn't let you go without some sort of fight.'
'Why?' She was almost afraid to ask the question, but there could be no more pretence between them now.
'I could prevaricate and deceive us both again, but I need you too badly to do that. I love you too much, too.' He came down on his haunches beside her chair. 'I swore after I lost my parents that I would never love anyone again, but God, Cathy, the thought of life without you fills me with despair. Even more so since I've known the complete warmth of you.' He clasped her hand in his. 'I've dared to hope this last week, Cathy…'
There was no arrogance about him, only a silent pleading. 'I've loved you for five years, Dominic,' she told him steadily.
'Then why—?'
'Why leave you?' she finished with a soft sigh. 'Because I finally decided that loving you so futilely was destroying me.'
'Oh, God,' he groaned, briefly closing his eyes. 'I've only known a week of that uncertainty, and it's been self-inflicted because of all the other things I had to sort out in my mind; I don't know how you could have stood it.'
'I didn't have a choice,' she pointed out gently.
'And now?' He looked at her searchingly.
She moistened her lips. 'That's up to you.'
'We could use David's champagne to toast our future. That's if you'll marry me?'
He was still so vulnerable, was going to need a lot of loving. But no one could love him more than she did; no one ever would.
'That sounds like a wonderful idea,' she told him huskily.
He pulled her sharply into his arms, groaning into her hair, as if he hadn't known what to expect from her. 'I've been so afraid…' he admitted shakily. 'Needed you so much… Oh, God, Ca
thy, I love you!'
A miracle. They really were possible.
'What does it feel like to be becoming a godfather again?' Cathy teased Dominic lightly as the two of them lingered over Sunday breakfast.
A year had passed since that snowbound Christmas, eleven months since they had been married in the same church as Jade and David had a week earlier, and today was the christening of Jade and David's daughter, Lia Sara. Only three months ago they had been godparents to the Freemans' son.
'Daunting,' her husband replied ruefully. 'How does it feel, becoming a godmother again?' he returned teasingly.
'Daunting,' she laughingly echoed his reply.
The last year had seen a lot of changes in Dominic: he was softer, gentler, and there wasn't a day went by when she needed to doubt his love. It hadn't all been easy, but then she hadn't expected it to be, and the reward of being loved by Dominic and loving him in return had more than made up for any awkward moments they might have had.
'But not as daunting as the prospect of becoming parents ourselves,' she added softly.
Dominic shrugged. 'I'm sure we'll cope if the time ever comes—Cathy?' He looked closely at her suddenly glowing face.
She got up to come around the table to hug him from behind. 'I've been trying to find the right moment to tell you—'
'The right moment?' He pulled her down on to his knee, his eyes glowing his pleasure. 'I can't believe it! Are you pleased?' he suddenly faltered.
She looked up at him unblinkingly. 'Ecstatic!' Their dark-haired, green-eyed baby! Dominic's baby.
'You've given me so much—'
'We've given each other so much,' she corrected firmly, her fingertips on his lips. 'And now we're going to have a child to love and share, too.'
'Heaven!' He buried his face in her neck.
Yes, heaven.
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