Perfect.
Dominic took her arm as they headed into the hotel, and she felt a certain relief that he wasn’t hiding this. Wasn’t hiding her. She’d worried he might be...embarrassed, if not ashamed. After all, as far as he was concerned she wasn’t in his social strata and besides, she was his employee. Dominic wasn’t the sort to blur the lines of propriety that way, even without the secrets he knew she was keeping.
The doorman at the hotel foyer gave no sign of anything out of the ordinary when they walked in. The concierge nodded politely, but otherwise kept a blank face. The receptionist barely even looked up. Faith held her breath. This might really happen. One night: one perfect night. She’d earned this much over the last few years of voluntary exile, surely? He never had to know who she was. What she’d done.
They were silent in the lift, a respectable few inches between them. She wondered if Dominic really felt so keenly about keeping up appearances and respectability that he wouldn’t even touch her in an empty lift. Or was he just afraid, as she was, that if they touched again they wouldn’t be able to stop...?
She got her answer the moment the door to the hotel suite swung shut behind them.
‘Faith...’ His hands were on her waist in a moment, pulling her closer into him, his lips descending before she could even think, even comprehend what they were doing here.
He reached for the zip at the back of her dress, tugging it down with impatient fingers, and Faith breathed with relief to be out of the stupid thing. What had she been thinking, trying to be anyone but herself around this man? He might not know her true name or identity, but he saw exactly who she was. He’d found her, under the disguise, and wanted her anyway.
Kisses ran across her neck, her shoulders, and she realised Dominic was whispering between each one, murmuring words of affection and longing and desire. She bit her lip, tilting her head to give him better access, and wondered if she’d ever stop being surprised by this man. This man who had looked at her body with distaste when they met, but was now admitting exactly how much he wanted it. This man who appeared every inch the respectable aristocrat every moment of the day, but was currently whispering exactly what he wanted to do to her in enough detail to make her whole body pulse.
He was so much more than she’d ever imagined that night in Rome, and she wanted him more than she could have dreamt.
Reaching up, she trailed her own kisses across his jaw, to his ear, his hands gripping her tighter as she went. Then she whispered, ‘Take me to bed,’ and felt the floor disappear under her feet as he lifted her and turned them round, covering the space between them and the bed in a very few steps.
Faith’s back hit the mattress and her greedy hands pulled him down on top of her, not wanting their bodies to be separated for a moment. This was it. Her one night with Dominic Beresford. One night to be entirely herself, whatever name she used. And she was definitely going to make the most of it.
* * *
Afterwards, in the dim light of the darkened room, Faith curled closer into Dominic’s side and tried to control her breathing. ‘We definitely have to do that again,’ she said without thinking, then winced. ‘Before I leave, I mean.’
‘We really, really do,’ Dominic said, and she relaxed. But then he added, ‘You have to leave?’
She nodded against his chest, pressing a kiss against his breastbone as an apology. ‘I do.’
‘Why?’
It was easier, admitting things in the dark. ‘I can’t be who I need to be, here.’
‘With me?’
‘In London,’ she corrected him.
He sighed. ‘And I can’t leave. Not for ever, anyway.’
If he were anyone else, he could, Faith knew. Anyone but Lord Dominic Beresford, defender of reputation and honour across the British Isles.
‘The estate.’
‘My family.’
‘Your name.’ She hadn’t meant it to sound bitter, but it did.
Dominic shifted, turning onto his side and pulling her closer against him. She could only just see his eyes in the darkness, but she could feel his heartbeat against hers. ‘It’s not just the name. It’s who I am. Who I was born to be.’
‘You were someone else tonight,’ she reminded him.
‘Just for tonight. I wish...’ He shook his head. ‘I know you don’t get it, Faith. And maybe it is just the way I was brought up, or my heritage. But...these things matter to me. Responsibility. Trust. Duty. Reputation. They do, and I can’t change that. My mother...she didn’t take those things seriously. She put her own desires ahead of her responsibilities and it almost destroyed us. She betrayed all of us when she ran away, but the family name most of all. I couldn’t do that. And then Kat...’
Faith’s heart grew heavy at the other woman’s name. ‘She betrayed your trust.’
‘She did. But more than that... It wasn’t just that she cheated on me. It was that she did it in a way calculated to cause the most damage to everything I hold dear. My family, my reputation. She hurt them. And she hurt me.’
He spoke simply, stating the facts, but the iron weight that had settled in Faith’s chest in place of her heart pulled her down further at his words. Wasn’t she doing the same? Whichever way things went. She was a runaway, a betrayer just like his mother. And she was making him take a risk of scandal and embarrassment, without even letting him know the danger was there, just like Kat. She should have told him, and now it was too late.
But if she’d told him...they’d never have had this night. And Faith couldn’t give that up, even for honour’s sake. Maybe that was the true difference between them.
A sharp ringing noise jerked her out of her thoughts, and Dominic reached across her body to grab the hotel room phone.
‘Yes?’ he said, then as he listened to the voice on the line his body stilled. ‘We’ll be right down.’
Hanging up, he pulled away from Faith, sitting with his back to her on the edge of the bed.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked, her heavy heart beating too hard now.
Dominic’s voice was calm and steady as he replied. Unfeeling. ‘They need us in the lobby. There’s someone down there asking for you. Apparently he’s causing quite a scene.’
Oh no. Faith swallowed, reaching for her dress. ‘Right, of course. I don’t...I can’t...’ How could she explain that she didn’t know who it was, because there were too many options to choose from? Her father. Antonio. Great-Uncle Nigel. Who’d found her? And who had such awfully bad timing as to ruin this night?
‘I suppose we’ll find out what this is about when we get downstairs,’ Dominic said, and Faith nodded, a sick feeling rising up in her throat.
She didn’t bother with her bra or tights, just pulled the dress over her head and shoved her feet into her shoes. She probably looked a state but, well, wasn’t that just what people would expect anyway? Even Dominic, in trousers and an untucked shirt, looked less respectable than normal. Not as free and abandoned as he’d been half an hour before, but Faith knew, in her heart, that she’d never get to see that side of Dominic again. Whoever was waiting for her in the lobby had ruined that for her.
The lift ride down was silent again, but this time the tension between them was filled with questions rather than anticipation. Faith kept her eyes on the toes of her shoes and prayed that she’d be able to talk her way out of whatever this was.
But then the lift door opened and before they could even step out she heard her name being yelled across the lobby.
‘Faith!’
She froze. The accent was wrong for Antonio, or her father, and Great-Uncle Nigel sounded like the fifty-a-day smoker he was, so...
‘Lady Faith Fowlmere.’
Dominic froze beside her, and Faith made herself look across the lobby to see who it was that had unmasked her. Who had ruined her
one night.
She closed her eyes against the horror as she recognised the photographer from the theatre striding across the lobby towards her. Then her brain processed what she was seeing and her eyelids flew open again. He had his camera. He had his camera out and pointed at them.
‘We need to go,’ Dominic said, grabbing her hand, but Faith knew it was already too late. The flash of the camera lit up the subdued lobby, light reflecting off the marble tiles and the mirrors on the stairs. There was no hiding this now.
‘You need to come with me. Now!’ Dominic’s words fought their way out from between clenched teeth and Faith ducked her head, turning and following him towards the lift.
‘Lady Faith! Would you like to make a comment on your whereabouts for the last couple of years?’ the photographer called after them, still snapping away.
‘Do not say a single word.’ He sounded furious. She’d known he would be. She’d just hoped he’d never have to find out. Or at least that she’d be many, many miles away when he did.
‘Or perhaps what made you want to come back?’
Faith couldn’t resist a glance over her shoulder at that, even as Dominic stabbed the call lift button repeatedly. The reporter was smirking, obviously assuming he knew exactly why she was there: Dominic. Just as they’d been so, so sure they knew what she was doing in that hotel room with Jared three years ago.
They were wrong again.
She hadn’t come back to London for Dominic, and there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let her stay now he knew the truth.
The lift pinged and the doors opened at last. Dominic hauled her inside, holding down the close doors button before she was even through. All Faith could see was the reporter’s smile, even after the lift started to move.
And then she realised she was alone with Dominic. Again.
‘My room,’ he said, the words clipped. ‘We don’t talk about this until we are safely behind a locked door.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
THIS WASN’T QUITE how he’d imagined having her in his room tonight.
Faith stood against the wall by the bathroom, arms folded over her chest, looking like a schoolgirl caught smoking. Like she was just anyone. Like she was still his Faith, only guiltier.
Lady Faith Fowlmere. How had he not known? Okay, so he didn’t exactly study the social pages, but even he’d heard the story of the missing heiress, and the scandals she left behind. There must have been a clue, something that he’d missed. Probably because he was too busy being swayed by her curves and her enthusiasm for life.
A life away from the one he lived.
‘Were you planning on telling me?’ he asked, his eyes landing on her bra, still tossed across the arm of the chair. Just how had this gone so wrong so quickly?
Faith’s head jerked up and she met his gaze head-on, her eyes wide but steady. ‘No.’
Hope drained out of him. If she’d said anything else—that she was scared, that she hadn’t known how, that she wanted to know how he felt first...anything else at all—maybe they could have worked it out. He could have understood, perhaps.
But she’d never wanted him to know who she was. Ever.
‘Why?’
A half-shrug, one hunched shoulder raised. ‘We agreed one night. Come on. You knew I wasn’t going to stay, and you knew there was a reason. Look me up on the Internet and you’ll see why. I’m a scandal; everyone knows it. And I know you. You’d have fired me if you found out. Too much of a risk. And, more than that, you’d have wanted me to talk to my parents, to reconcile, for the good of the family name. You know you would.’
She was right. She did know him. Better than he’d ever been allowed to know her. ‘And you won’t.’ Not a question. He knew her that well, at least.
‘I don’t ever want to go back there.’ The vehemence in her voice surprised him. He didn’t know the Fowlmeres personally, but they were her family.
‘You might have to. We need to put a respectable face on this, and “runaway heiress returns home” sounds a hell of a lot better than “runaway heiress found in high-priced love nest”.’ He reached for his phone, trying to keep his temper under control. He needed to think, not react. And he needed to ignore the part of his brain that was telling him that the secrets were out now. He knew the worst of it. Maybe he could salvage something from this.
But first he had to fix it.
‘Here’s what’s going to happen now,’ he said, scrolling through his contacts. ‘I’m going to call my PR people, get them down here. I’ll sit down with them, come up with a plan. Maybe we can talk to the reporter, or more likely the newspaper owner. Maybe we can get an injunction. I don’t know. But I am not going to let your past ruin my future.’
Faith hadn’t even moved from her position by the door. ‘And what am I going to be doing, while you set about fixing my mistakes?’ Her voice was cool, calm—everything he didn’t feel right then.
‘You are going to be sitting in your hotel room, not talking to anyone, not seeing anyone, not even thinking about anyone. Do you understand me?’
Her eyes were sad as she spoke. ‘Oh, I understand. You’re going to rewrite not just my history, but our entire past.’
‘I’ve known you a week, Faith. I don’t think what we had qualifies as a past.’
‘We had tonight.’
‘And now we don’t.’
* * *
Faith felt very cold, as if someone had left a window open in winter and the icy wind was chilling her through, layer by layer. Was this how it felt to freeze to death? And, in the absence of both winter and wind, was Dominic’s coldness enough to finish the job?
‘You’re treating me like a child,’ she said, the words hard lumps in her throat.
‘I’m treating you like what you are,’ he replied. ‘A scandal and a flight risk.’
Just like his mother, Faith realised. But knowing why he was mad, expecting it even, didn’t make it any easier.
And it didn’t mean he got to take over her life.
‘I understand,’ she said again, wrapping her arms tighter around her. ‘You’d better make your phone call.’
Dominic gave a sharp nod. ‘Go straight to your room. I wouldn’t put it past that photographer to have snuck back in, assuming security kicked him out by now. He could be anywhere. I’ll call you in the morning,’ he said, and she nodded as she collected her belongings and headed back towards the door, away from him, thinking hard.
He wanted her to stay hidden. Wanted her to let him fix her life for her. Wanted her to be a good, obedient Lady Faith.
It was as if he’d never known her at all.
This would be all over the Internet by the morning, however hot Dominic’s PR team were supposed to be. And if she were going to be a story again, a scandal even, she was doing it on her own terms. She couldn’t stay with someone who was embarrassed by her, ashamed of her.
Not even Dominic.
The story was out now, and that changed everything. What was the point of hiding when everyone knew where she was? This job had been her last chance. Without it—and without her salary for the week—she was out of options. She couldn’t just hop on a flight to another country this time. Chances were, she’d be spotted at the airport, anyway.
No, Faith knew what she needed to do next. Even if it was the last thing she wanted.
Back in her hotel room, Faith packed quickly and economically. Three years as a tour guide had taught her the best way to roll clothes, as well as what was essential, and what wasn’t.
She stripped off the hideous dress she’d bought for the theatre and left it folded on the chair. She wouldn’t need it again. Instead, she pulled on an old pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a cardigan, loading her case with the rest of her clothes. She removed her make-up before packing her cosmetics bag, shoved her
feet in her trainers and headed for the door.
As one final thought, she left Dominic’s expenses credit card on top of the dress. He already thought badly enough of her. She didn’t want him thinking she was a thief, too.
She kept the money in her purse though, the last remains of the petty cash he’d given her at the start of the week, to buy a train ticket back to the only place she had left.
Home.
* * *
Dominic was up early the next day, after a night spent liaising with his PR team and barely sleeping. He could still smell Faith on the bed sheets, and knowing she was only a few rooms away, awaiting his decision on her future, didn’t help. He knew he couldn’t really have handled it differently, under the circumstances. But knowing that didn’t make him feel any better about it.
Now he just had to break the plan to Faith.
‘We’ll sell it as a rehabilitation,’ Matthew the PR guy had said once they’d established there was no way to keep the news that the runaway heiress was back in town from breaking. ‘You met in Rome and brought her back to try and reconcile her with her parents. There’ll still be a lot of talk about her past, I’m sure, but as long as we present it right, get in early with the story, you should both come out okay.’
The first step, they’d agreed, was to get Faith to give an interview, with Dominic at her side as a sort of mentor. Then they’d stage the reunion with her parents, build it up carefully. After that, Matthew said, Dominic could wash his hands of her altogether, if he wanted.
It was a plan. It wasn’t perfect, but it should at least minimise the damage. Once he convinced Faith to play along.
Showered and dressed, he headed to her room, annoyed when she didn’t answer his knock. He banged louder, and this time the door opened—only there was nobody on the other side. Anger and frustration started to build. The room was empty, with no sign that anyone had even slept in the bed last night.
Heiress on the Run (Harlequin Romance) Page 11