by Francis Ray
“Thank you. My brother is an excellent teacher.”
“Goodnight.” The door closed after her.
Trent tucked her hand under the light blanket and pulled it to her chin. “You’re sure you’re warm enough?”
“Fine.” I’d be warmer if you held me, looked at me.
“Can I get you anything?”
You. “No thanks.”
He nodded, then fiddled with her covers again before his gaze locked on the small, white bandage on her neck. “I should have made sure you reached home safely.”
Automatically she lifted her hand to touch his tense features, but the blanket prevented her. “You had no way of knowing Isaac would try something like that.”
A muscle leaped in his jaw. “That’s no excuse.” His eyes finally met hers. They were filled with regret and misery. “I should have protected you better.”
This time the blanket was no match for a determined woman. Trent needed her. Her hands touched his face. “You can’t possibly blame yourself for Isaac’s behavior. I certainly don’t.”
His long forefinger trembled as it lightly grazed the bandage. “He could have—” His eyes shut, his hand clenched into a tight fist.
“It’s over,” Dominique said, taking Trent’s cold hand in hers. “I’m safe, thanks to you. If you hadn’t come out, he might have succeeded in getting me into that car.”
His eyes opened and they were no less haunted. “He only came after you because of me.”
“Trent, stop blaming yourself.” She sat up. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I should have called the police the afternoon they showed up at my studio.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” he shouted. “What afternoon?”
“The day after we slept together for the first time he and his pals came by the studio and made some crude gestures when I refused to admit them. They ran when I picked up the phone to call the police,” she explained, not liking the way Trent was glaring at her.
“What stopped you from completing the call?” he asked.
She bit her lower lip. No way was she fooled by the quietness of his voice. His eyes were blazing. She had a feeling that if she weren’t hurt her feet would be dangling off the floor again.
“Dominique?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“I don’t imagine I will, but I want to hear it, anyway.”
She lay back down and drew the blanket up to her chin. “I didn’t want you to get into trouble. I was safe in the studio, and I always leave before dark.”
His brow furrowed. “You were trying to protect me?”
“Yes.”
“I can—” he began, only to stop abruptly and stare at her, his gaze studying her more closely. “What I’m thinking can’t possibly be true. You wouldn’t do anything so idiotic.” He pushed to his feet, took a few steps away, then quickly came back and crouched down. “You jumped Isaac when he pointed the knife at me. Why?”
She moistened her lips. This was going to be tricky. “It was the opening I had been waiting for. I wasn’t going to get into that car.”
“You’re lying!” he shouted, pushing to his feet and glaring down at her. “You were trying to protect me again. Don’t you ever take it into your head to do something like that. I can take care of myself. Do you hear me?”
She didn’t think it wise to point out that the entire neighborhood could probably hear him. “Yes. Someone is at the door.”
“I mean it, Dominique.”
“It’s probably Janice.” Dominique sat up and swung her legs over the side of the sofa.
“What are you doing?” Trent asked, coming back to her.
“If Janice sees me lying down she’ll think the worse. I don’t want to upset her more than this is going to already,” Dominique explained, reaching for the bandage.
Trent’s hand stopped her. “Leave that alone.”
“She’ll se—”
“The bandage stays.”
“Trent, be reasonable.”
“Believe me, I’m giving it my best shot. Now leave that alone.” Pushing to his feet, he went to answer the door. “But don’t think we’ve finished our conversation. I still have a few things to say to you.”
Dominique didn’t mind the ominous threat. As long as Trent was talking to her there was a chance he might forgive her.
As soon as Trent opened the door Janice rushed inside. Paul was directly behind her. Her godmother took one look at Dominique, began fussing over her, and insisted she be taken home and put to bed. Dominique started to tell her that wasn’t necessary, but Janice looked so distressed that she consented.
She had barely stood when Trent picked her up in his arms. The stubborn look in his eyes warned her to not protest.
Since she didn’t know if that would be the last time she’d be held by him, be able to hold him, protesting was the furthest thing from her mind. Circling her arms around his neck, she leaned her head against his chest. Paul followed them out and closed Trent’s door, while Janice rushed ahead to open her front door.
As soon as they entered Janice’s house they heard the phone ringing. Dominique had expected the call. “That will be for me. Please place me on the couch by the phone.”
Frowning, Trent did as she requested. “How do you know it’s for you?”
“Unfortunately, from experience,” she told him. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the receiver. “I’m all right Dad, Mother.”
“Dominique!” Felicia cried. “We’ve been frantic for the past forty minutes. No one would answer the phone.”
“What happened?” her practical father asked.
Dominique bit her lip and tried to think of a way to tell her parents without upsetting them, then realized that they already were. Her father’s unique ability to tell when his children were deeply troubled or frightened had saved her from LaSalle, had helped Daniel out of a bad situation.
“Baby, say something?” Felicia said, her voice shaky.
“A teenager tried to make me go someplace I didn’t want to,” she told them. “It was over before it began.”
“We’re on our way,” John Henry said.
“There’s no need for you to come.”
“There is every need. The helicopter Daniel sent just landed. Be safe, and know you are loved,” her father said.
“Be safe, and know I love both of you, too.” Her eyes misted for the first time. She hung up the phone. From her earliest memories, her father had always said good-bye to her the same way.
“You’re all right?” Trent asked.
“My family is coming, and the craziness is about to begin.” Her hand swept over her mussed hair. It was too late to worry about what the neighbors or the police thought. “I’d better get ready. We’ll need coffee.”
“And food for the hoard,” Janice said.
“I’ll take care of everything, Janice.” Paul took her hand in his. “You just take care of Dominique.”
“Thank you, Paul.” She kissed his cheek.
Dominique glanced at Trent, then stood and walked toward her bedroom. There was no sense waiting. She wasn’t likely to get a kiss.
* * *
Trent had never seen anything like it in his life.
Apparently, neither had Paul, because Trent had caught the amazed look on the older man’s face once or twice as the evening progressed. No wonder Dominique and Janice had suggested food and drinks. He had thought they meant for her family.
Since mud had more flavor than his coffee and about the same texture, he had gladly let Paul make it. Then Paul had called his restaurant and had them deliver food. Trent never thought of leaving. He had a few things he wanted to say to Dominique.
Almost to the moment she came out of the bedroom—looking remarkably calm and breathtakingly beautiful in a white turtleneck pullover and matching pants—the doorbell had rung. Taking a seat on the Duncan Phyfe couch, she had grimaced and said, “Open the door and let the show begin.”
Janice nodded. In walked the police field supervisor, who had come by to express his regret of the “unfortunate incident” and wish her well. From then on, the doorbell and the phone rang constantly.
Some of the calls were from anxious relatives, others from city or police officials who wanted to “express their regrets and drop by.” She had thanked each one for calling and told them she’d be delighted to see them.
More than one official brought his wife with him. They had sipped coffee, nibbled on quiche and cherry tarts, and invited Dominique to become a member of most of the prestigious organizations in the city. Trent couldn’t help but remember that Dominique Everette had not been asked.
Dominique handled them all with easy assurance, and thanked them for coming. Elegant and poised, she made a point of stating that she hoped the media did not learn what happened.
Repeatedly, she was reassured. Neither the police nor the city officials were anxious for word to circulate that a wealthy socialite had been attacked fifty feet from her home.
Janice was waving good-bye to the final guests when they arrived. Trent thought he had prepared himself for her brother and parents, but one look at the powerfully built men with thick hair rippling down their backs and the exquisite woman between them, and he knew he had been wrong.
They were an exotic trio. They’d stand out in any crowd, not only for their handsomeness but for their proud carriage. Here were three people who could probably spit in the devil’s eye, then laugh.
He didn’t know who the beautiful young pregnant woman was, or for that matter who the well-dressed elderly man was, but they definitely weren’t related by blood to the Falcons or Everettes. They didn’t have the coloring or the intensity.
“Mother, Dad!” Dominique cried, jumping up from the sofa and running to meet her parents. She was enveloped in a hug and rocked.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Felicia asked, stepping back to look at her daughter and touching her face.
“I’m fin—” She stopped abruptly as her mother’s hand slid downward and encountered the bandage.
Eyes wide, her hands shaking, Felicia slowly peeled away the collar of the turtleneck. “How bad is it? And are there any more? I want the truth.”
“Just this scratch, Mother.”
“Where is he?” John Henry asked, his eyes as cold as black ice.
“In jail, Dad.” She smiled to soothe him. “You didn’t have to fly here.”
“Stop talking nonsense,” Daniel said. His hand trembled as it touched her neck. His jaw clenched. “I thought I taught you better.”
“If you hadn’t, she would have been in a lot more trouble.”
Everyone in the room turned. Trent stood in the kitchen doorway, his stance combative.
“Who are you?” Daniel asked.
“This is Trent Masters, my neighbor,” Janice supplied. “Next to him is Paul Osgood. Dominique was coming from Trent’s house when it happened.”
Paul received no more than a cursory nod. Trent remained the center of attention. “Why didn’t you see that she got home safely?” Daniel asked, his voice hard.
“At the time I thought I had good reasons.” Trent’s gaze was fixed on Dominique. “Now—” His hands flexed helplessly. “I’d do anything to change things.”
“Trent, it wasn’t your fault,” Dominique cried, stepping around her parents and going to him. “Please stop blaming yourself.”
“He should,” John Henry said. “He should have protected you better.”
Trent turned to face her family. They were all glaring at him, even the pregnant woman. Once again it struck him how little Dominique needed him. She had a family that obviously loved her very much. She certainly hadn’t needed him to protect her against Isaac. If not for him, she would never have been in danger in the first place. She needed him like a fish needed a bicycle.
But he realized something. He needed her. His attention came back to her. “I’d like to talk to you alone. Will you come back to the house with me?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.
The vise around his heart eased. But there was still another hurdle. He turned toward Dominique’s parents. She caught him by the arm. “Where are you going?”
“To ask permission. We wouldn’t get two feet.” This time he didn’t stop until he stood in front of her unsmiling father. “Sir, you’re right. I should have protected her better. My punishment is that I’ll go to my grave knowing I didn’t. But I’d like you to give me a second chance. I’d like your permission to speak to her privately.”
“Give me one good reason why I should,” John Henry asked.
“There are lots of reasons, but I’d like Dominique to hear them first,” Trent told him.
“Go on, Dad, I recognize the look,” Daniel said with a smile, his arm going around the pregnant woman’s waist.
Trent’s brow arched. He hadn’t expected an ally in Daniel, nor to see his face soften as his cheek rested against the woman’s head. But he was finding love had a way of changing a person and breaking all the rules. “Please, Mr. Falcon.”
“If you go, Dominique, remember your promise,” said the elderly man.
Trent figured the man who had spoken must be Higgins, the family friend. He was certainly outnumbered, but he wasn’t giving up.
“Are you the reason she’s been out every night?” Felicia asked.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“If my daughter returns upset in any way, you’ll answer to me,” Felicia promised.
“I want her home and safe in an hour,” John Henry said flatly.
“Da—”
“Yes, Sir,” Trent said, cutting Dominique off. Taking her hand, he guided her through the back kitchen door.
* * *
Trent seated Dominique on the couch in his living room. He was too nervous to sit. “Your father didn’t give us much time, so I’d better get started. I’m sorry I blew up at you, and for comparing you to Margo. She had everything handed to her, and she always had her hand out, wanting more. She never worked a day in her life, never did anything during the time I knew her for someone else.”
He ran his hand over his head, stopped, and stared down at Dominique. “There’s no way she wouldn’t have used what little influence her father had to advance herself socially. She certainly wouldn’t have risked her life for me, or anyone else. You’re nothing like her. Forgive me for even thinking so for a moment. You chose to make it on your own. That took courage.”
“I was scared,” Dominique admitted.
He sat down and took her hands. “But you didn’t let that stop you. You didn’t give up.”
“I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t helped me get started.”
“I might have given you the opportunity, but it was your unique ability to visualize concepts and create images that made people want you to do their portraits.” He smiled proudly. “You didn’t let them down. Your pictures reflect the essence of the subjects. I might have helped you get started, but you did the rest. Please say you’ll forgive me.”
She drew in an unsteady breath. “I do. So where do we go from here?”
“That depends on you.”
“Me?”
“I’ll be right back,” he stated, then went down the hall into his bedroom and came back. Kneeling in front of her, he held the diamond ring between his thumb and forefinger. “I want you to have this.”
Her eyes widened. She gazed from the white fire dancing in the center stone to him.
“I was going to ask you to wear it as a friendship ring.”
She could barely get the words past her dry throat. “Was? You don’t want me to have it now, since you know who I am?”
“No.”
Her eyes closed in misery.
“I want you to have it because I love you, and want you to be my wife.”
Her eyelids flew up. Grinning, she launched herself into his arms, almost toppling him over on the floor.
Crying and kissing him, she said, “Yes. Yes. And if you ever scare me like that again I’ll make you drink your own coffee for the rest of our lives together.”
His arms tightened. “Dominique, I love you so much.”
“You’d better, because I love you so much I ache sometimes.” She held out her left hand and he slid the ring on her third finger. “It fits perfectly, just like us.”
“Just like us.” His eyes grew haunted. “I was so scared you wouldn’t learn to love me. Then when you told me who you are, my fears escalated. You family has such a history, and so much wealth.”
Her hands stroked his face. “And it doesn’t mean squat if you aren’t happy and don’t have love. I know. Remember?”
“I only know I can’t live without you. I only know that I’ll love you and protect you through eternity.”
“Good, because I feel the same way.” Her fingers began unbuttoning his shirt.
His hands grabbed hers. “I promised to have you back in an hour.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve developed a problem I’m not aware of, that should be just enough time.”
Chuckling, he picked her up in his arms and started for the bedroom. “Oh, Buttercup, I just love the way you talk.”
Epilogue
The wedding announcement of Dominique Nicole Falcon and Trent Jacob Masters made headlines across the country. The media might have been caught napping and let Daniel Falcon’s wedding slip past them, but they were determined to more than make up for that loss by covering every facet of his sister’s engagement and nuptials.
They had a lot to cover. From the elegant announcement party at the lavish Mansion Hotel to the bridal showers held from one end of the country to the other to the hand-beaded crystal and seed pearl wedding gown to the spectacular five-foot wedding cake with blooming cascades of sugar flowers, the wedding was clearly going to be an event.
The couple was clearly in love and wanted everyone to share in their happiness. Dominique was heard saying more than once that it would be difficult for a woman not to fall in love with a sensitive, caring man like Trent. The incredible thing was that somehow he had fallen in love with her as well. The Master of Breath had blessed her beyond belief.