by C. C. Gibbs
‘—his old age,’ Dominic said to himself as the driver slammed his door and punched the accelerator. As the car sped off into the street, Dominic tilted his head left, then right to loosen his tight neck muscles. Not that it did much good. He could feel the tension like full-body gridlock. He took a deep breath and turned. Now to apologize to Katherine.
But he stood and waited when he saw Max running down the stairs.
‘I was coming up from the garage when I saw you and your old man,’ Max rapped out as he skidded to a stop in front of Dominic. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘Good. He’s fucking gone.’ Dominic lifted his brows. ‘The bastard was looking for a seat at the table on the palladium deal. How’s that for clueless? He thought I should cut him in because he’s my father.’
‘Jesus,’ Max muttered. ‘The man’s without shame.’
‘No shit. And he was rude to Katherine. I damn near beat him to a pulp for that.’
‘Good thing you didn’t,’ Max said, bluntly. ‘That would have been a problem you didn’t need.’
‘Or Katherine. She was more of a deterrent. She probably wouldn’t have understood if I’d put my old man in the hospital.’ Dominic shrugged, then winced as his rigid shoulder muscles screamed their dissent. ‘The prick was drunk as usual.’ Dominic sighed. ‘Who the fuck let him in anyway?’
‘The new guy at the door. He’s only been here a week.’
‘He should know better. No one gets in without my approval. Did he miss the lecture, for Christ’s sake? You’d better put a photo of my father in the security guards’ break room. I don’t want a repeat of this.’ Dominic nodded towards the entrance. ‘Is that the guy?’
Max turned to look. ‘Yeah.’
‘I’ll have a few words with him.’
Dominic crossed the drive, took the stairs at a run, stopped in front of the young man stationed at the door and met him eye to eye because Max had height and weight requirements for the security staff. ‘You saw that, so you know you fucked up, right?’ Dominic’s voice was hard as nails.
The young man looked down and the sun gleamed off his skull with his military haircut. ‘Yes, sir,’ he mumbled.
‘I should fire you, but Max says you’re new. Look at me. Here’s the deal. That was your one fuck-up. You won’t get another. It was my father I just shoved into that car. He won’t ever get into this building again. Clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘No excuses.’
‘He said he was your father, sir.’
Christ, the kid’s eyes were wet, his voice wobbly. Dominic sighed. ‘Relax. My old man’s a complete prick. But I suppose you haven’t read that memo yet. You probably have a normal family. Or at least what passes for normal.’
‘I think so.’ The security guard wondered if it was a trick question; then Dominic’s scowl disappeared and he said more firmly, ‘Yes, sir, I do. I have a wife and a baby too.’
‘Good for you. Make sure you take care of them,’ Dominic said, the tenor of his voice softening.
Figuring it was always safe to answer in the affirmative, the guard said, ‘I intend to, sir.’
‘Good. OK.’ Dominic rubbed the back of his neck in silence for a moment while the young man tried not to breathe too loudly. ‘If you have any questions – what’s your name?’
‘Forbes, sir.’
‘OK Forbes, if you have questions, always check with Max or Leo if Max is gone. Or whoever knows more than you which is pretty much everyone at this point,’ Dominic said with a small smile. ‘And don’t fuck up my day again. Letting my father in is at the very top of my bad day list. Max’ll be putting a photo of my father in the break room. Memorize it. Are we on the same page now?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Dominic blew out a breath, let his hand drop from his neck. ‘How old is your baby?’
‘Three months, sir.’
Dominic smiled. ‘Getting much sleep?’
‘Enough, sir.’
‘Boy or girl?’
‘A boy.’
‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Now, don’t screw up again,’ Dominic said, brusquely. Then he abruptly turned away, opened the door and walked inside. Moving quickly up the curved staircase to the second floor, he did some slow breathing as he strode down the corridor, flexed his fingers a few times, went through his keep-the-craziness-at-bay routine in his head. Felt a sudden shot of happiness knowing that Katherine was waiting for him.
A few moments later, he stood in the doorway to his office and smiled at the woman who’d given him a life, a future – a really epic future. ‘That was my father,’ he said. ‘I apologize for his rudeness. He was vulgar and offensive. I’m sorry you had to hear any of that. Deeply sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault, Dominic. Don’t worry about it.’
Dominic smiled. ‘Thanks, baby. With any luck, we won’t see him again. The guard who let him in is aware of his blunder. Ready to go home?’
‘Sure.’ She rose from the sofa. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You don’t look like him.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You look like your uncle with the yacht business.’
‘I keep telling myself that. Is that enough for now? Or do you need an explanation?’
‘Whenever or never as someone once said to me.’ She smiled. ‘We could talk about baby names on the way home.’
His smile was a slow unfurling of tenderness. ‘Jesus, Katherine, how did I get so lucky to find you?’
She grinned. ‘Max found me.’
‘But I talked you into staying,’ he said, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
She dipped her head and looked up at him, the green of her eyes filtered through her thick lashes, the warm glow of love unclouded. ‘So we’re both lucky.’
As if their luck was suddenly piling up heavenward, the doctor in Rome called Dominic on their drive home. ‘When?’ Dominic asked, gravely. ‘Why the delay?’ Then he said, ‘Thank you,’ hit end and slipped his phone into his jacket pocket.
‘That was short. Problems?’ Kate asked, trying to decipher his expression.
He shook his head. ‘Nope. Actually, problem solved. The baby has arrived.’ Ten days ago, although he didn’t explain that the doctor had been kept incommunicado until Gora could get there. Nor was he about to go into any detail when he and Katherine had broken up over his forced marriage. Taking her face in his hands, he suddenly smiled. ‘We’re free. Care to get married tomorrow, baby? We are free at last.’
‘Really?’ Her squeal registered with Jake even through the privacy glass.
Dominic laughed, pulled her into his arms and said very, very softly, ‘It’s over. All the bullshit of the last three months is finally over.’
‘Now you’re just mine.’
‘I always was, but now it’s fucking legal.’
‘Boy or girl?’
‘I didn’t ask; I don’t care. Is that OK with you? And I’m serious. Let’s get married tomorrow.’
‘At the risk of pissing you off, could we wait until the weekend? I do have to work tomorrow,’ she said, her voice softly tentative.
He knew how she felt about her work; he always had. Except when he was being selfish. ‘Sure, baby. The weekend’s fine. Mrs Hastings probably would prefer not being forced to put on a wedding with only a few hours’ notice. This gives her four days.’
‘So are you happy?’ She twisted in his arms so she could watch his face.
‘Just a little,’ he said with a grin. ‘How about you?’
‘I’m without words.’
‘No kidding. It’s indescribable. So what do you say we celebrate tonight?’
‘What exactly does that mean?’
‘Would you like to go out to dinner?’
‘Not really.’
‘See a play?’
‘Uh-uh.’
‘Visit Justin and Amanda?’
‘Keep
it up and I might say no to this wedding.’
‘I’d bet you’d like to come a few times?’
‘How many?’
‘That’s up to you, baby …’
CHAPTER 12
‘I apologize but I’m going to have a couple quick ones.’ Dominic turned from the drinks table and gave Kate a smile. ‘Something to soothe the savage beast after seeing my father.’ He was quiet for a moment, a sudden exhaustion on his face, then he looked up, saw her and his expression softened. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said, quietly.
‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.’
‘Lucky me.’ He smiled a little lopsided smile, banishing the touch of sadness in his eyes. ‘I don’t know what it is with my parents,’ he murmured, his jaw working for a second. ‘Whether they’re just so self-involved or malicious, delusional or – shit … I have no idea why they think they can continue to interfere in my life.’
She wanted to say they’re all of the above and psycho too but she said instead, super polite, ‘At least your father’s gone. That’s good.’
He half smiled. ‘Biting your tongue, baby?’
‘Sort of, yeah, OK I am. But I don’t actually know your parents,’ she added in that same well-mannered tone reserved for lies.
‘Best to keep it that way,’ he said, flatly. Then he lifted the bottle in his hand. ‘Special circumstances. I promise not to make this a habit.’
She smiled from the sofa. ‘Have one for me.’
He dipped his head. ‘It’s nice to have an understanding wife.’
‘And you’re going to be my husband.’ It suddenly seemed incredibly intimate and wonderful. ‘Like wow.’
‘You better believe it.’ He gave her a lazy wink. ‘Four more days, baby, and we’re shackled for life.’
‘You do have a way with shackles’, she murmured softly, ‘that warms a woman’s heart – not to mention every other body part.’
‘One woman.’ He gave her a quick up glance from under his lashes as he poured his drink. ‘Just one.’
‘You better believe it,’ she mimicked. ‘Or I’ll make your life a living hell. Oh, dear,’ she added with wide-eyed innocence, ‘should I have waited until after the wedding to mention that?’
He laughed. ‘As if I don’t know it already, baby. But your idea of hell and my twisted version aren’t even in the same universe. So do your best, you’ll never get rid of me. Once we’re married, we stay married. Which reminds me: you should call Nana. Tell her what’s going on – marriage, baby and whatever else you think she wants to know.’ He set the bottle down.
‘With Nana, she’ll want to know everything from your dental records to your Meyers-Briggs scores. So I’ll call her tomorrow. I’m not fully alert this time of night.’
‘She didn’t ask me much when I saw her,’ he said with a small shrug.
Kate smiled. ‘I’m guessing she figured you wouldn’t be around long enough for her to bother with an interrogation.’
‘So I should brace myself, you’re saying.’
‘Or decide on whatever degree of omission works best for you.’
‘Got it.’ He didn’t say that was his speciality. ‘But Nana is going to need time to get ready,’ he gently prompted.
‘I know. Tomorrow – I promise I’ll call her.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ He wasn’t going to argue. He had a plane waiting in Duluth and a driver cooling his heels in a motel a few blocks from Nana’s house. He could have Nana in London in ten hours. ‘Cheers.’ He tipped his glass towards Kate, then lifting it to his mouth, drained the whisky in one long swallow. Refilling the glass, he said, ‘Last one,’ and turned to set the bottle back on the table.
They were in a small, cosy room at the back of the house. A table by the window had been set for dinner, a low bowl of pinks on it scenting the air, a branch of lit candles fluttering in a faint draught. Kate was curled into a corner of an ultrasoft purple paisley chintz-covered sofa, her feet drawn up, her head resting against the arm, her gaze on the man she loved. Her adoring gaze, she silently acknowledged, principles of female independence irrelevant when life was this sweet.
They’d changed into comfortable clothes: T-shirts and sweats, hers, designer, the pale green top decorated with the word, Mummy, in colourful glitter. Dominic wore grey Armani and looked good enough to eat as always, she reflected. He had that hard, athletic body, lean and taut with muscle as if he lived in a gym and worked out hours a day when he didn’t. Although he swam every morning; there was a large pool in the lower level here as well. ‘You know you can’t ever look at another woman,’ Kate murmured. ‘And I’m going to become even more irrational as I get fatter.’
He turned from the drinks table, his glass in hand. ‘No worries, baby. I don’t give a shit about other women.’ He dipped his head a fraction. ‘Just take my partnership deal and everything’s kick ass. I’ll never leave your side.’
‘It would solve my jealousy problem.’
‘And more importantly, mine,’ he said with a grin, walking towards her. ‘Although what I feel is better described as ownership.’
‘Dominic,’ she warned, softly. ‘Don’t start.’
Quickly upending his drink into his mouth, he set the glass aside, slid behind Kate so she rested between his legs and pulled her back into his chest. ‘OK, I’m done,’ he said, blandly, bending his head to kiss her cheek. ‘I’m just staking my claim. You can always say no. If you want,’ he whispered, sliding his hand down her stomach, cupping her crotch and gently massaging. ‘I understand no.’
‘No you don’t – oh, Lord …’ Softly sighing, she brushed her palm down the back of his hand as he gently stroked her sex. ‘You’re making this really hard.’
‘Am I supposed to respond to that politely?’ His mouth brushed her ear. ‘Tell me the rules.’
A brisk knock on the door echoed in the quiet of the room.
‘Damn …’ Kate groaned, Dominic’s fingers, expert, practised, touching her in all the right places, provoking, arousing, turning on all her give-it-to-me cravings.
Lifting his hand away, he rested his arm on the sofa back. ‘As soon as you eat, baby, it’s playtime,’ he whispered. ‘Now – we have people waiting. Are you OK?’
She drew in a breath, exhaled, then nodded.
Dominic called out, ‘Come in.’ First things first: he wanted Katherine to eat a nourishing meal. After that, they had all night to play, although, realistically, they had about an hour after dinner before she fell asleep. ‘As soon as we’re done here,’ he murmured, ‘I’ll carry you upstairs.’
As Quinn walked in, followed by three servers with trays, Dominic smiled. ‘Smells good. I’m starved.’ Rising from the sofa, carrying Kate with him, he set her on her feet.
Once they were seated, Quinn ran through the menu, pointed out the carafe of chocolate milk, mentioned wine was available for Dominic if he wished. When Dominic shook his head, Quinn signalled a server to take away the wine bottles, then smiled at Kate. ‘I’ll have someone in the kitchen tonight in case you’re in the mood for leftovers.’
Kate flashed a glance at Dominic, felt her face turn red as she looked up at the chef who was almost as large as Dominic’s Tongan chef, Sese. ‘Please, that’s not necessary. I can get my own leftovers.’
‘Why don’t we leave it at that, Quinn,’ Dominic said, smoothly, holding his chef’s gaze for a telling moment so his message was clear: I want someone in the kitchen at night.
Quinn nodded. ‘Very good, sir.’
As Quinn and the servers shut the door behind them, Kate whispered, eyes alight, ‘Ohmygod, blueberry pie.’
Dominic smiled. ‘Nana’s blueberry pie.’
‘I see that.’ The sugar-coated lattice work crust was a clue. ‘Where did you get blueberries this time of year?’
‘Dunno. Do you want me to ask?’
‘No, but you can push the pie closer to me.’
Dominic uttered a low growl.
Kate
grinned. ‘I’m ignoring that.’ Half rising from her chair, she reached for the pie plate.
‘You should eat some protein first.’
‘It’s called meat, Dominic. You’re not my dietician yet.’
‘But I am, baby.’ He took the pie plate out of her hand and said very softly, ‘Now be a good girl and sit back down. I promise you can have pie for dessert.’
A familiar heated buzz streaked through her senses when Dominic gave orders in that deep, husky voice. When he looked at her like that, all quiet authority and cool restraint. ‘Where’, she whispered, shifting faintly on the cushioned chair, ‘exactly … would that be?’
He held her gaze as he set the pie plate back on the table. ‘Wherever you want it,’ he said, equally softly. ‘There’s whipped cream too.’
‘Jesus …’ She dragged in a breath, briefly shut her eyes as a jolt of lust punched her psyche, then exhaled and said, her voice unsteady, ‘This horniness is unnerving. I’m like … defenceless.’
‘Relax, baby.’ Dominic smiled. ‘It’s a helluva gift from my point of view.’
‘You’re sure you don’t mind if I become too—’
‘I don’t mind. I never will. And as soon as you eat, we’ll go upstairs and you can call all the shots. Consider my dick yours to command, demand, whatever. But right now, humour me. Eat something good for you – pork chops, duchesse potatoes, peas and carrots …’ his brows rose, ‘you actually like those?’
‘My favourite,’ she said, her horniness waning thanks to Dominic’s tactical shift in conversation. ‘Maybe I’ll make you eat peas and carrots.’ She smiled. ‘A quid pro quo for baby’s daddy. What do you think of that?’
He laughed. ‘I think that’ll be a fucking first.’
She giggled.
And Dominic’s dinner agenda was back on track.
It turned out to be an evening of several firsts for Dominic – starting with peas and carrots and ending with him lying with Kate on the sofa, watching two TV talent shows in a row – or half watching. He took more pleasure in observing Kate as she oohed and aahed, or said, ‘No way!’, or if a contestant was really good, she’d shoot him a look and exclaim, ‘Isn’t that just fabulous?’