Heiress on the Run (Harlequin Romance)

by Sophie Pembroke

  Her head felt fuzzy, as if every thought she’d ever had was buzzing in there, all at the same time. She couldn’t let Ginny see her, recognise her. This was just what she’d been afraid would happen at the theatre that night.

  Getting to her feet as casually as she could—jerky movements would only draw attention to her—Faith turned her body away from the door, where Ginny was talking to the assistant. Then, grabbing the first dress she came to, she murmured to Sylvia, ‘I’m just going to try this on.’

  Sylvia’s eyebrows rose in surprise, probably because the dress was everything Faith had said she didn’t want—full length, black and decorated with crystals in a fan pattern on the skirt—but Faith ignored her, moving serenely towards the safety of the fitting room.

  Of course, once safely behind the heavy locked door, she collapsed onto the velvet padded seat and buried her head in her hands.

  This was why she couldn’t stay in London. This was why she couldn’t consider trying to seduce Dominic that night. As if she needed the reminder. She wanted out of his world, not back in. She’d been crazy to even take the job, once she’d figured out who he was.

  Still, she’d see it through now, of course. Which meant finding something utterly un-Faith-like to wear that night. She needed to be so unrecognisable even her own mother would walk past her in the lobby if she showed up. And she wasn’t going to find that in any of the shops Sylvia was dragging her to.

  ‘Faith? Are you okay?’ Sylvia’s voice rang through the fitting room, and Faith winced. Why hadn’t she lied about her first name, too? Would have made things much easier. Except she’d always been Faith, and she hadn’t wanted to lose that too, when she was letting go of everything else.

  She’d probably forget to answer to another name, anyway.

  ‘Fine,’ she called back, her voice low. ‘I don’t think this is the one for me.’

  ‘Well, I think we could have predicted that before you came in here,’ Sylvia said drily. ‘Lady Gale has left, by the way. She was just placing an order for a new jacket.’

  Was she that obvious? ‘Who?’ Faith tried innocently but, as she unlocked the door to the changing room, Sylvia was standing on the other side, arms folded and eyebrows raised.

  ‘Want to explain to me what just happened?’ she asked.

  Faith shook her head. ‘Not really. It’s old news now, anyway.’ Which didn’t mean anyone had forgotten about it. Certainly not the Internet.

  ‘Former employer?’ Sylvia guessed.

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘I won’t tell Dominic, you know. Not if you don’t want me to.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell,’ Faith lied. Then, leaving the hideous black dress hanging on the rail, she headed back out into the shop and straight for the door. ‘Come on; I think I’ve got a better idea of what I’m looking for now.’

  * * *

  Dominic was a busy man. He’d had important meetings all day, emails and calls to deal with, not to mention some valuable forward planning with Marie and Henry that afternoon. They’d made some real headway on the expansion plans, and Dominic could almost see his dreams coming to life.

  Which was why it was particularly embarrassing to admit, even to himself, that he’d spent most of the day wondering what sort of a dress Sylvia would persuade Faith to buy for the theatre that evening.

  He hadn’t had a chance to see Faith all day, despite his attempt to catch her at breakfast. He had, however, seen Jerry, which had been entertaining enough in itself. The man had turned white, then slightly green, then run in the opposite direction down the corridor away from him. Okay, maybe it was more of a power walk than a run, but when Dominic told the story to Faith he expected to make it more of a sprint.

  When he finally saw Faith, of course.

  Maybe he’d pushed her too far last night, letting on that he knew she was lying to him. Faith was like a small frightened animal at times, behind her confident exterior. Whatever she was hiding, it scared her, which in turn worried Dominic even more.

  Two and a half days. That was all the time he had left to uncover Faith’s secret. To find out if it was something he could live with. Something they could deal with together.

  And if it wasn’t...then he had two and a half days before he never saw Faith again.

  The thought made him shudder.

  By the time he made it back to the hotel that evening, he had a scant half hour to shower and change, but he still managed to make it to the lobby before anyone else, ready for their evening of theatre.

  Faith was next down, as he’d expected. He’d come to value the brief, quiet ten minutes before they left for the evening’s entertainment. Ten minutes when it was just them and they had a chance to catch up on the day, and the plans for the next one. It was work, of course, but somehow it felt more like play when Faith was there.

  The lift pinged, and Dominic turned to see if Faith was on board, sucking in a breath as the doors opened. Would it be backless? he wondered. And surely not black. Whatever it was, she’d look fantastic. And he’d get to spend the whole evening looking at her. Almost as good as if it were really just them going out together for the evening.

  But then Faith stepped out of the lift, into the lobby, and Dominic’s breath slowly released in disappointment.

  ‘Sylvia let you buy that?’ he asked as she strode across the lobby in plain flat navy shoes. What happened to the glorious red heels of last night? Oh yeah. Broken, even before she stamped on Jerry.

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’ Faith asked, looking down at herself.

  Dominic searched for the right words. In lots of ways, it was perfect. Navy dress, cream cardigan and handbag. Nothing too revealing or showy, but smart enough for the occasion. Maybe Sylvia had chosen it. He had a hard time believing Faith would because, despite everything that was right with it...

  ‘It’s just...boring.’

  Faith beamed. ‘Thank you. That’s just what I was going for.’

  Dominic shook his head. He was beginning to believe that he didn’t stand a chance of ever understanding what went on in Faith’s brain. Especially if he only had two days left to learn.

  The others arrived shortly after, and they piled into pre-ordered taxis to take them to the theatre. There’d be food at the after-show party later, so he’d told Faith not to bother with booking a dinner.

  The press were out in force for the occasion, and he lost sight of Faith in the melee as they were shepherded through the crowds into the theatre. Inside, the place was crowded with half familiar faces, and Dominic quickly lost track of who he actually knew and who he just recognised from TV.

  ‘I’ve arranged drinks with the barman over in the balcony bar,’ Faith said, suddenly at his side. She was shorter without her heels, and had to stand on tiptoe and shout into his ear to be heard over the crowd. Someone brushed past her and knocked her balance and, without even thinking about it, Dominic wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her upright.

  ‘Lord Beresford?’ Dominic looked up to see the official photographer for the evening brandishing a camera at him. ‘A photo, if you please?’

  He hated this. Hated that his attending a play was the cause for photographs and reports. Hated that anyone cared.

  Still, it was part of the deal. He knew this. And, even if he hadn’t, his father had made it perfectly clear when he was growing up. Whatever else was going on, you played the part.

  One of the many things his father forgot after his mother left. Including his children.

  He gave the photographer a swift nod and let his arm fall from Faith’s waist.

  ‘With your friend?’ the photographer asked hopefully.

  Of course. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked, turning to where Faith had been standing, only to find that she’d gone. He caught a brief glimpse of navy disappe
aring into the sea of people, but didn’t bother calling after her. ‘Apparently not,’ he told the photographer, who looked disappointed, but snapped away at a couple of shots anyway.

  He eventually found Faith, along with Sylvia and his clients, in the upper balcony bar. ‘What happened to you?’ he asked, taking a glass of champagne from her hand.

  ‘Just doing my job,’ she said, smiling innocently. ‘Your guests were thirsty.’

  She was lying again. He almost wished he couldn’t tell. The number of casual lies she told him in a day was honestly disturbing.

  ‘So, what’s this show about, anyway?’ he asked, to distract himself from the fact that not only was the woman he’d fallen for leaving him in two days, but she’d been lying to him the whole time he’d known her and it was getting increasingly likely that he’d never get to know the truth.

  ‘You don’t know?’ she asked. ‘But you specifically asked me to arrange for us to see it.’

  He covered a yawn with his hand. Apparently late nights and long days weren’t compatible with theatre visits. ‘Sylvia said it was the biggest show opening this week. Although I think she just told me that so I’d get her a ticket, too.’

  She stared at him. ‘You’re going to sleep through the whole thing, aren’t you? The lights will go down, the theatre will be warm, the seats will be cosy, and I’ll spend the entire evening trying to pretend you’re not snoring.’

  Actually, that didn’t sound all that bad. ‘I’m sure I’ll wake up for the interval drinks.’

  Faith rolled her eyes, but then he felt her body tense beside his.

  ‘Lord Beresford? Perhaps I could get that shot of you with your friend now?’

  Photographers. Knowing his luck, they’d get one of him fast asleep halfway through the first act. And now worrying about that was going to keep him awake.

  ‘Faith? Is that okay?’ He turned to where she’d been standing just moments ago, but the space was empty.

  Where the hell had she gone now? And why?

  ‘Sorry,’ he told the photographer unapologetically. ‘She’s camera shy.’

  And then he set about finding Faith, and some answers.

  CHAPTER TEN

  FAITH HAD FIGURED that the tiny alcove on the back stairs leading up to the Upper Circle was a decent enough place to hide. Plenty of people passing by, none of them likely to recognise a used-to-be-notorious girl in a boring navy dress.

  She hadn’t counted on Lord Dominic Beresford’s tenacity, though.

  ‘What the hell are you hiding from?’ He planted himself outside her hiding place, hands on his hips.

  ‘I’m not hiding,’ Faith lied. ‘I just got a bit claustrophobic. You know, with all the crowds up there. Thought I’d get some air.’

  A group of theatre-goers trying to reach their seats forced Dominic off the staircase and into her alcove, and suddenly Faith really couldn’t breathe. He was too solid, too attractive—and too close! How was she supposed to keep her story straight when she was surrounded by the scent of his aftershave, when she could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt?

  ‘Claustrophobic.’ Disbelief coloured Dominic’s words. ‘So you hid here. In a ridiculously small alcove with hundreds of people walking past.’

  ‘I was trying to get outside,’ Faith said, knowing he didn’t believe her. ‘I just got a little turned around.’

  ‘Then let’s go.’ Grabbing her hand, Dominic led her down the staircase and out through a side door. Faith sucked in the cool evening air, letting it fill her lungs and calm her.

  That had been close. Too close. If that photographer had got her photo and run it with a caption about Lord Beresford...it wouldn’t matter where she went next, Dominic would still have to deal with the fallout when someone realised who she was.

  He’d still end up hating her.

  ‘Feeling any better?’ Dominic asked as the side door slammed shut behind them.

  Faith nodded. ‘But I don’t think we’re getting back in that way,’ she said, motioning at the handleless door. ‘And I left our tickets in my bag, upstairs in the bar.’

  ‘I’m fairly sure they’ll let us back in.’ Dominic leant back against the brick wall of the theatre, arms folded over his chest. ‘If I ask them to.’

  He was watching her too carefully and his words from the night before flooded her brain.

  I just wish you’d stop lying to me and let me see the real you.

  How did he know? And how much did he suspect?

  ‘Are you going to?’ she asked.

  ‘That depends,’ Dominic said.

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On if you’re going to tell me the truth.’

  Fear crawled through her middle. ‘I told you. I just needed some air—’

  ‘Not about tonight. Well, not just about tonight,’ he amended. ‘You’ve been lying to me since the moment we met, and I want to know why.’

  Faith stilled, and looked up into his dark eyes.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘You really don’t.’

  * * *

  Her words hit him in the gut. That was it then. Whatever her secret was, it was too big for them to move past. Too huge for her to even trust him with.

  It was over, before it ever really started.

  He should walk away now. Head back into the theatre and his clients and his sister. Let Faith work out the rest of the trip, without letting her any closer to his heart. Then he should put her on a plane and resign himself to never seeing her again.

  He knew exactly what he should do.

  But instead he said, ‘Then we’re not going back inside.’

  She looked desperate now, her eyes wide and pleading. ‘Dominic, don’t be ridiculous. We’ve got your clients to sort out; my handbag is in there...’

  ‘I’ll text Sylvia. She can deal with everything.’ In fact, he rather thought his sister might cheer approvingly.

  ‘So what are we going to do?’ Faith asked.

  It wasn’t a plan, wasn’t something he’d thought out or weighed up and decided on. And it might be the most un-Lord-Beresford-like thing he’d done in his entire life.

  But somehow Dominic knew it was the only thing to do.

  ‘We’re going to take a night off.’

  ‘A night off?’ Faith’s forehead crinkled up.

  He nodded. ‘One night. Just one night, where I’m not Lord Beresford and you’re not my employee. One night to just be Dominic and Faith.’

  She wanted it, he could tell. Her eyes were wider than ever, filled with amazement, and the slight flush on her cheeks told him she hadn’t missed any of the possibilities of the suggestion.

  ‘For just this one night,’ he said, moving closer, ‘it doesn’t matter about the truth. Doesn’t matter about our pasts, or our futures. For tonight, all that matters is us.’

  He took her hand, rubbing circles on her palm with his thumb, and held his breath when she looked up at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

  ‘Just one night?’

  ‘Just one night,’ he echoed.

  ‘What will we do?’ she asked, and Dominic’s mind filled with possibilities, most including getting her out of that ugly dress as soon as possible.

  No. Too quick. If he only had one night with her, he needed to do this properly.

  ‘First, I’m going to take you out for dinner. Anywhere you choose.’

  Some of the tension dropped from her stance at that, and she smiled. ‘I know just the place.’

  * * *

  The crowds were still gathered out front, but by keeping close to the side of the building they managed to avoid them as they dashed across the street behind the theatre, the warm evening air smelling of freedom and possibility.

  One night. Just one night.
That was what he’d said. And even though Faith knew she shouldn’t, knew that this could end in disaster, or at least a broken heart, she couldn’t resist that kind of temptation. Surely she could keep her secret for just one night?

  Covent Garden buzzed with life, filled to overflowing with tourists, buskers, after-work socialisers, people wanting to sell something and people looking to buy. Faith let the sights and sounds warm her, make her feel at home again. She hadn’t realised she’d felt so out of place in her own London that week, until now.

  ‘So, where do you want to go?’ Dominic asked. ‘Somewhere around here?’ He cast an arm around him at the market piazza, almost hitting a tourist in shorts and a Bermuda shirt as he did so. ‘Looks like there’s plenty of places to choose from.’ Seeing Faith’s horrified look, he added, ‘What? I know it’s not exactly up there with the meals you’ve been organising this week—’

  ‘That’s not it,’ Faith interrupted. ‘Just...Covent Garden’s for the tourists. It’s the equivalent of eating pizza right next door to the Coliseum in Rome. You’ll get perfectly ordinary pizza at three times the price.’

  They’d stopped walking, Faith realised, and were standing still in a sea of people, swelling and ebbing around them. Dominic’s hand came down to rest at her waist, pulling her in closer, anchoring her against the tide. Heat spread out through her body from the place where they touched, and she swallowed, hard.

  ‘Follow me,’ she said, and grabbed his hand with her own.

  It was easy to get trapped in the slow-moving crowds if you didn’t know what you were doing. Dominic would have been far too polite to do the essential barging through if she’d left him to his own devices. That was the only reason she held his hand, she reasoned.

  Of course, once they’d escaped the market and were walking more casually away along Long Acre, she didn’t let go. By that point, it felt far too natural.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Dominic asked, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand in a relaxing rhythm.

  ‘A little Italian I know.’ Marco had taken her there, back when he was trying to hire her for his fledgling tour company. He said it would give her a real taste of Rome.