Now he had met her, and she was as beautiful as she had appeared in her hundreds of images, and her graciousness and warmth flowed out of her.
He felt a tad ashamed of how he’d prodded her, but he wanted to see if she was weak, or perhaps a little slow, thinking that might account for her engagement, but she was neither. She’d not only stood up to him, but put him put in his place with dignified grace.
Her likeness was taking form under his pencil, and be began shading in her eyes. His research had revealed she’d been born on a small farm in the Midwest, and as she stared up at him from the page, he felt a wave of protective concern.
Are you just naive? Have you been swept up in the social whirlwind of the Viscount’s life? I felt no love sparkling between the of you. No passion or romance. Surely you must know life has more to offer.
The sketching had calmed him, and the weariness finally began to take hold. Placing his sketch pad on top of his suitcase, he dropped the robe and climbed into bed, recalling how Vivien’s soft gray eyes had stared back at his; he was sure he had seen a glimmer of wisdom.
But if you were wise, you would not be with this man. You would know, somehow you would know.
As much as he befriended his clients, he rarely became involved in their personal lives, Lukas one of a select few, but as sleep came, and he pondered Vivien’s circumstances, he felt a grave concern.
Not far from the Embassy, those same gray eyes were gazing at the ceiling. Robson was on top of her, his head buried in the pillow next to hers, his hands clutching her seat cheeks as he rode her, grunting and panting, as if his stroking took great effort.
“Are you close?” he breathed, turning his head.
“Yes,” she lied.
Making the necessary sounds to convince him, she gasped and stiffened, then let out a cry of pleasure. A moment later she heard him release a loud groan, and felt his member soften and slip away. Rolling alongside her, breathing heavily, he flopped an arm across her chest. Sighing deeply she glanced across at him, disappointed that she’d not been able to respond as she usually did.
“Was that nice for you, my beauty?”
My beauty, why does he always call me, my beauty?
“Yes, Robson, it was lovely, thank you,” she murmured, thinking she sounded as if she’d just eaten something unimaginative but passable, and was complimenting the chef.
“Good,” he yawned. “I must say, I’m dreadfully tired. Probably because it’s nearing the end of the week.”
“Robson,” she said softly, “can you please cuddle me for a while?”
“Of course, for a little while, but then I really must get to my bed.”
He laid back and lifted his arm, but resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, she could sense he wasn’t comfortable.
“Before I forget, tomorrow night I have to go to the club,” he murmured. “I’ll call you of course, and I’ll expect you on Saturday for lunch. I thought we’d go to The Delaunay.”
“That would be great,” she replied, wishing he’d cuddle her against him.
“Great is so common,” he complained. “It’s too American. I must hire a dialogue coach to help you select the correct superlatives.”
“I’m not Eliza Doolittle!”
“Of course you’re not,” he said kindly, moving himself away and sitting up, “but these small things are important. I’ll have someone here next week.”
“Whatever you say, Robson, but are you leaving?”
“Yes, my beauty, I must get some sleep. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Leaning across he kissed her lightly, pulled on his pale blue silk pajamas, and padded out the door.
Vivien stared around her sumptuous room. Anything she could ever want was at her fingertips, all she had to do was ask.
Why am I suddenly feeling so…so…unhappy? Any woman would be thrilled to be in my place.
Slipping under the blankets she pulled them tightly around her, but still feeling cold, on an impulse she jumped from under the covers and scurried across to the fireplace. She’d never once set it to light, and pushing the button on the side of the wall she watched the flames spring to life. Dashing back into bed she turned off the bedside lamp, then watched the amber glow fill the room. The rain, which had abated, returned as if on cue, and curled up with the splattering sound and the warm fire, she rolled on her side, pulling Robson’s pillow against her.
There something fundamentally wrong here? Shouldn’t I be curled up in my lover’s arms, warm and cozy?
A heavy lump was growing in her throat, and frustrated from her short, unsatisfying rumble, she dropped her fingers between her legs and began to gently rub. As she rolled on to her back and closed her eyes, the mysterious painter with the dark brown eyes began floating through her head. The lingering spark she’d felt when his hand had brushed against the small of her back sent her clit abruptly to life, and massaging aggressively, she let her mind take flight, allowing herself the luxury of a fantasy.
Dominic was clutching her hair, pushing her against the wall, pressing his lips against hers, demanding she open her mouth…
…her orgasm suddenly erupted, shooting sparks through her body and tingles across her skin, continuing until her hand dropped away, and opening her eyes, breathless and shocked, she saw the dancing shadows on the wall.
What the hell was that? Dominic Dubois, what have you done to me?
CHAPTER SIX
“Dominic Dubois rang this morning, and I’ve given him your mobile number,” Robson declared as Vivien approached the breakfast table.
They were in the small conservatory overlooking the gardens, and she felt her heart jump. Doing her best to retain her composure, she took her seat and gazed across the backyard, willing away the heat she could feel crossing her face.
“I thought you should spend some time with him before he goes back to France. I believe he said he’s leaving London tomorrow, so you could even have dinner. I suggest you take him to Julians, it’s quiet there, you’ll be able to talk, assuming you have anything left to talk about by then.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be tied up tonight?” she asked earnestly. “I don’t mind spending an hour or two with him, but I thought maybe we could go down to the country this weekend, walk through the grounds, maybe take the horses out. We haven’t done that for such a long time.”
“We haven’t been down there because it’s not the weather for it,” he quipped. “Do you really want to tramp through muddy fields? I think not, my beauty.”
“If you don’t want to go to the country, what about having dinner at home tonight, just the two of us here at the house. Maybe we could rent a movie or something.”
“Are you not well?” he frowned.
“I’m quite well,” she said hastily. “I just thought, perhaps, we could do something different. You know, break the routine a bit.”
“So you’d like to rent a movie? I’m not even sure how one does such a thing, but regardless, I can’t tonight, I promised Alfred I’d meet him at the club and I must keep my word. Are you feeling unsettled?”
“Yes, I am a bit,” she confessed.
“Not to worry,” he smiled, reaching across and running his hand up and down her arm. “I’m sure it’s just pre-wedding jitters. I understand it happens to every bride at some point.”
“You might be right,” she declared, and I’ll bet that’s exactly what I’m feeling, pre-wedding jitters.
“Of course I’m right. You spend the day with Dubois, and if you get too bored you can give me a ring.”
“I will,” she promised, though somehow I don’t think Dominic will be boring.
“I thought you didn’t seem quite yourself last night,” he added. “As the wedding gets closer you’ll probably experience these mood swings, you might even find yourself having second thoughts.”
“You think?” she asked, feeling as if she was a teenager receiving fatherly advice.
“It’s certainly possi
ble,” he nodded. “If you start to feel that way just remember how much I adore you, and what a wonderful life we’ll have. You could call Cecily, I’m sure she’d be happy to calm your nerves.”
Cecily was Robson’s sister, and while Robson’s sibling had always been very friendly towards her, Vivien wasn’t sure Cecily completely approved of her brother’s choice of a wife.
“I’ll remember that,” she said softly, reaching for the teapot. “Thank you, Robson.”
“You’re welcome, my beauty. There are some delicious choices this morning. Have a good breakfast, that will help see you right.”
She sipped her tea for a moment, then rising from the table, she moved to the buffet and lifted a thin, expensive, porcelain plate from the stack. Sliding back the silver lids of the serving dishes, she stared down at the herring, eggs, bacon and cooked tomatoes, and thought about her home.
Growing up it was her morning chore to collect the eggs from the hen house. Her mother would scramble them up in butter and parsley, then smother them with freshly grated cheddar cheese.
I need to go home for a visit. I need to see mom, and Will, and play ball with Rusty. I’ll bet that’s also making me feel restless. I miss them, and I miss my dog.
Spooning some eggs and tomatoes on to her plate, she selected some multigrain toast and returned to the table.
“Robson, I think I’d like to take a trip home before the wedding, just for a week.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” he smiled. Hopefully that will mean I won’t have your relatives on my doorstep during the festivities. “I could even prevail upon Alfred and have you fly on his jet for the trip. I do hate to think of you traveling commercial. One always seems to catch something.”
“You really are a terrible snob sometimes,” she remarked, shaking her head. “I’m perfectly happy to-”
“No, I won’t have it,” he interrupted. “I’ll speak to Alfred tonight. When would you like to go?”
“I haven’t thought about it, maybe in a week or so. I’ll call mom and talk to her.”
“You do that, and now I must get into town,” he declared, standing up and kissing her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and remember, if you get bored, or start to feel out of sorts, you ring me.”
She watched him stride from the room, then picked up the morning paper he’d left folded on his chair. Scanning through the pages as she ate, she reached the lifestyle section, and discovered a photograph of Dominic and the Ambassador. It had been taken the evening before, and focusing on Dominic’s face, she smiled.
My goodness, you are a handsome devil. No wonder I thought about you last night. I’m sure you must have many women in your life, or maybe just someone special. I can’t imagine a guy like you spending much time alone. Robson was right, I’m just jittery about the wedding, and I’m definitely homesick.
Folding the paper and placing it back on his chair, she finished her breakfast, then ambled down the hallway towards the stairs, but just as she was about the head up to her bedroom she was intercepted by Chambers.
“What time will you be needing a car, Madame?”
“Probably, in about thirty minutes,” she replied, and why don’t you call me Vivien, or even Miss McKay? Madame sounds so-
“I’ll make sure it’s here,” he nodded, and turning on his heel, he walked quickly away.
Entering her bedroom, she pulled her phone from her bag and saw she had two voicemails, the first was from Ben Marshall. She had a job in Paris, and he was confirming both her flight arrangements, and her meeting time with Gustav.
Gustav was a young fashion designer who was fast becoming a star. His clothes were urban, trendy, and exciting, and Vivien not only loved his designs, she adored the man. It had been over a year since she’d worked with him, and immediately emailed her agent that she had received the message.
The second voice mail was from a number she didn’t recognize, and hoping it was from Dominic, she waited for it to play.
“Hello, Vivien, this is Dominic Dubois. Robson probably told you I would be ringing. I would like to spend the day with you. I have a car so we can drive around London, perhaps visit some shops, have tea, whatever you would like. Please call me.”
Dropping on the side of her rumpled bed, and doing her best to ignore the feverish anticipation she was feeling, she touched the number he’d called from.
“Bonjour?”
“Dominic, this is Vivien McKay.”
“Merci! You called me back so quick.”
“Oh, I didn’t know,” she stammered.
“I just left the message a minute ago,” he remarked. “How are you?”
“Fine, good, yes,” she replied, feeling ridiculously nervous.
“Would you like to come out with me today?”
“Sure.”
“Where are you? I could pick you up.”
“I’m at Robson’s house, it’s quite close to you, I mean, if you’re still at the Embassy.”
“Yes, I am, I’m about to leave. I’m sure the secretary here will give me directions. I’ll be there in, maybe, half-an-hour?”
“Wonderful, I’ll see you then.”
Ending the call, she let out a deep happy sigh.
You know you’re only looking forward to this because it’s a change, because he’s handsome and it should be fun. It doesn’t mean anything that you’re excited.
Yes, I know. Robson is a dear sweet man, and I can’t wait to be married.
Remember that when Dominic flashes those big brown eyes at you.
Picking up the landline phone, she pushed the number for Chambers, alerting him she wouldn’t need a car after all, then hurried to get ready.
The rain had stopped, but knowing it could return at any time, she chose black gaberdine slacks over boots, a hunter green cable-knit sweater, and a thigh length, waterproof, khaki parka. It was casual and easy to carry, and she had a feeling it would appeal to Dominic more than a designer trench coat. Running some dark green eye shadow over her lids to accentuate her gray eyes, and adding some soft red lipgloss, she grabbed her bag and trotted down the stairs.
“Mr. Dubois is waiting in the front reception room, Madame,” Chambers announced as she reached the foyer.
“Thank you, Chambers,” she replied, and as he turned to stride away, she thought she detected a glimmer of disapproval.
Deciding it was her imagination, she moved through the double doors into the small, elegant room, and saw Dominic standing at the paned window staring out at the driveway.
“Dominic,” she smiled, walking across to him.
“The Viscount has an impressive home,” he remarked, turning to face her.
“Yes, it’s been in his family for generations,” she nodded, and how can you possibly look even more handsome than you did last night?
His thick, brown sweater seemed to make his dark eyes darker, and she wondered how it would feel to lay her face against his chest, resting in the softness of the wool as his arms engulfed her in a long, warm, bear hug.
“Soon you will be the lady of this house,” he commented.
“Yes, I suppose I will, though I can’t imagine what that will mean,” she grinned.
“Wearing elegant gowns and hosting elegant dinners I would imagine,” he grinned back.
“More than that I hope,” she giggled. “That sounds elegantly boring.”
“I suspect you would be right,” he said with a wicked grin. “Are you ready to leave this elegant house and take a drive?”
“I certainly am,” she nodded. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he winked, and I don’t know how I will get through this day without wrapping you up in my arms and kissing you. Have you ever been kissed, properly kissed, fervently and passionately kissed ma chérie? Not by your Viscount you haven’t, of this I am certain.
Stepping outside, the wind whipped around her, and he hurried ahead to open the door of the waiting Mercedes sedan. Sliding inside she dro
pped her bag at her feet, and watched him as he climbed in behind the wheel.
James Bond, you really do look like you should be James Bond.
“Oui?” he asked.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, but you remind me of…”
“Of…?”
“I think you’d make a great James Bond,” she stammered, feeling embarrassed. “You probably think that’s a silly thing to say.”
“James Bond? No, I am supremely complimented. Merci. James Bond, the sexiest secret agent,” he grinned. “So, then, I will take you to, what is it they say? The rendezvous point.”
“Great,” she exclaimed, enjoying the use of the word without fear of criticism.
“Yes, great,” he repeated, and ripping up the gravel under the tires, he sped down the driveway.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The drive through the busy London streets had been comfortable, though filled with a sparkling flirtation, and while the skies remained cloudy and somewhat ominous, the rain had failed to materialize. As they left the city behind and traveled down the M11, the green hills and pastures surrounding them had her intrigued, and her curiosity finally got the better of her.
“Dominic, we’ve been driving for an hour. You must tell me where we’re headed.”
“I must?” he replied, his eyebrows raising.
“Yes, you must,” she giggled.
“Your timing is perfection,” he remarked, turning off the highway.
“Please? Can’t you even give me a hint?”
“You can wait five minutes. We’re almost there.”
“Okay, if you won’t tell me where we’re going, can you at least tell me why we’re going there?”
“Ah, this is a better question,” he smiled. “Most often it is not the where, but the why.”
She paused, thinking about what he’d said, then nodded.
“You’re right, I’ve never thought about that before. So, can you tell me the why?”
“I told you last night that to paint you I must know you. In this place we will have a chance to talk, to get to know each other without any bother from others.”
A Promise of Passion Page 4