Enchantment & Bridge of Dreams (54 page)

If he thought their raincoats unusual attire for this bright sunny day, Leo was far too well trained to show it. Briskly he moved to sweep open the doors, at the same time motioning discreetly to a bellman inside. His eyes twinkled as he watched the new visitors stroll off hand in hand. Yes,
now
things would start to happen. Just the way they always did when Lord Ashton was about.

 

I
T WAS A PLEASURE TO BE
back at the Dorchester, Dominic thought. Trust Nicholas and Kacey to plan something perfect like this. He smiled as his steps were cushioned in the deep velour plush of the art deco carpet. The hotel staff was discreet and unflappable. Nothing ever surprised or upset them. Dominic had enjoyed the elegance of this grand old hotel ever since his father had brought him for the first stay at the ripe age of eight. That first morning he had eaten crisp Belgian waffles and raspberry crêpes in bed and fallen in love for life.

Now, as mellow golden light bounced off elegant banks of mirrored glass, Dominic gave a sigh and finally allowed himself to accept the happiness that had been stealing through his soul ever since he'd found Cathlin safe the night before.

“Good morning, Lord Ashton.” A bright-cheeked attendant in a crisp linen apron nodded to Dominic.

“Good morning. Mary, isn't it?”

Her cheeks creased with pleasure. “So it is. I'm sure you'll have a lovely stay.” Her voice dropped confidentially. “Everything is all arranged.” Before Dominic could say another word, she was gone, giggling softly.

Cathlin slanted Dominic a measuring look. “Quite a regular
here, are you?” She smoothed a dark strand from his forehead and feigned a frown. “Should I be upset by this?”

“I stayed here several years ago, but it was a job, simply a job, Cathlin.”

“I'm listening.”

“A French actress appearing in a popular London play had been receiving some nasty threats and I was assigned to protect her.” He mentioned a name that made Cathlin's eyes widen.

“You worked with
her?
”

“She's not exactly what you might imagine. She was convinced that soap of any kind promoted wrinkles. As a result her, er, hygiene was somewhat less than exemplary.”

“But she's
beautiful.
”

“Not,” Dominic said tenderly, “half so beautiful as you.” He was just bending down to plant a kiss on her welcoming mouth when he heard a voice at his back.

“Welcome back to the Dorchester, Lord Ashton.” An elderly woman with twinkling eyes and a serviceable navy dress smiled as she pushed a tray of pastries past.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hopkins.”

Cathlin's brow rose. “
Very
familiar.”

Dominic shrugged, grinning crookedly. “I did a few favors while I was here. I had to keep busy, since I was spending a lot of time avoiding being caught alone with Madame X.”

“A predicament half the male population of the United States would have killed to experience.”

“It was business, Cathlin.” Dominic's eyes darkened. “All business. No matter what act I had to play or what lies the tabloids printed. No matter what everyone here at the hotel was led to believe. Do you believe me?” he asked, suddenly serious.

Cathlin knew what she said next was very important. “I believe you. But only because I know how ruthlessly competent you are in your work. Heaven help the female who tries to break
one of Ashton's rules.” Her brow creased. “She really didn't believe in using soap? Not
ever?
”

“Never.” Laughing softly, Dominic pulled her close and set off for the gleaming marble expanse of the front foyer, where he was instantly hailed by a small man with very regular teeth and a suit that was a masterpiece of Italian understatement. The red rose in his lapel bobbed as he shook Dominic's hand.

“My lord, it is such a
pleasure
to see you again.”

“Thank you, George.”

“Things have been far too quiet since you left.”

“Quiet?” Cathlin eyed Dominic.

“But madam does not know? First, there was the crazed fan who tried to climb a rope from the balcony to the window of Lord Ashton's, er, female friend. Lord Ashton had to climb up and bring the man down when his foot got caught in the rope.”

“He struggled every inch of the way,” Dominic said reflectively.

“And don't forget the horse.” The red rose bobbed as the hotel's concierge went on.

“Horse?”

“A circus act,” Dominic said tersely to his wife, clearly uncomfortable with the trend of the conversation.

“Oh?” Cathlin purred.

“It was nothing much.” Dominic shrugged. “The horse broke away from its handlers and tore into Hyde Park, then bolted across Park Lane at rush hour and raced into the lobby. I helped quiet things down, that's all.”

“You caught him single-handedly, my lord,” the concierge protested. “And just as he was about to mow down three duchesses and a very senile member of the House of Lords! Incomparable, you were.”

Cathlin's lips twitched. “Incomparable, was he?”

“George is exaggerating. He always exaggerates.”

“And then there was the time that very lovely actress friend
of yours was locked out of her room—very much as God made her. You gallantly offered your jacket, but she seemed to want a great deal more from you. I had heard she was a very passionate woman, of course, but I never expected she would indulge in such a display in public.”

“Display?” Cathlin breathed.

“But, yes. She was most curious to assess the lordship's, er, lordly assets before she—”

“Thank you, George. I think we can find our own way upstairs.”

“But the security keys.”

Dominic patted his pocket. “Right here.”

“And the new codes.”

“George, you offend my professional pride.”

“Of course. I forgot those unusual skills of yours.”

Cathlin didn't move. “So she wanted to assess your ‘lordly assets,' did she?”

“It was a lifetime ago, Cathlin. And nothing happened, I assure you. Now why don't we head upstairs before—”

The dapper hotelier interrupted enthusiastically. “Oh, yes, Lord Draycott was most specific in his requests. You will find everything
molto bene.
” He kissed his fingers. “And the flowers, so lovely. I myself shall escort you up.”

“There's no need, truly, George. I'm certain we can find our way to the room.”

“Oh, not just
any
room. To the penthouse suite, you understand.”

At that moment a handsome man with mahogany skin and a rum-soft Jamaican accent strode past. “Welcome back, Lord Ashton.” He gave a quick grin. “Things always do happen when you're here, that's for certain. I hear they got something pretty special waiting for you and your lady upstairs, mon. Yes, it's a true pleasure to have
you
back.”

Cathlin's eyes narrowed. “Lord Ashton?”

“Yes?” Anxious. Definitely anxious.

At that moment Cathlin decided she'd had enough. She ran her arms slowly along her husband's shoulders and twined her fingers at his neck. Then she moved to tiptoes, sliding closer with every tormentingly sensual inch of her progress.

A deep silence fell over the gilt lobby. Bellboys paused over their luggage. Bemused guests slowed their steps. The uniformed attendants at the desk put down their pens and studied the new arrivals with blatant curiosity.

Cathlin made the kiss long, slow, and roughly the temperature of Cajun
sauce piquante.

When her air finally gave out and she eased away from Dominic, she noted with satisfaction that his pupils were dilated and his pulse was definitely ragged. “Just so you don't forget that you're a married man now,” she said silkily.

Dominic cleared his throat and studied her glowing face.

Behind them the silence was deafening.

“Meet my new wife, everyone,” he said hoarsely.

The sound of clapping broke over the polished lobby as Dominic turned and, with a determined look on his face, tugged his wife toward the gleaming bank of elevators.

 

T
HE PENTHOUSE WAS INDEED
prepared. Roses spilled from crystal dishes and china vases, filling the air with lush perfume. The doors to the balcony were thrown open, overlooking the green sweep of Hyde Park.

Dominic barely noticed. With a supreme effort of will, he pulled away from Cathlin. “I'll run a bath, then call room service.”

“I'm not hungry. Not for food at least,” she said raggedly.

Dominic ran a hand through his hair. “But we barely ate in the car. And after what happened yesterday, you—”

Cathlin touched his mouth. “No. Not ever again. It's done, put away in the past, where it belongs. The future is all I want to think about now. The future with you.”

“But—”

At that moment the shrill clamor of the doorbell brought Dominic around, cursing. “Yes?” he demanded of the liveried attendant outside.

“Flowers, Lord Ashton. They're from housekeeping.” The man held out a huge expanse of white and pink carnations. “Mrs. Morrison said to thank you again for your help with those men who were threatening her son.”

Dominic gave a distracted smile, trying not to look at Cathlin. “Just a small favor,” he muttered.

The door had barely closed when the buzzing began again. This time a buxom woman in a neat gray uniform held out a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of etched silver. “For you,
Monsieur. Merci mille fois,
” she said hoarsely. “Without you, my Pierre would still be undergoing questioning for a crime he did not commit. Thank you for believing when no one else did.” She wiped her eye, pressed a quick kiss on Dominic's cheek, curtsied, then withdrew without another word.

Dominic set the bucket on a gilt table beside the balcony doors. As he did, the buzzer sounded yet again. Outside a small and very round man in a pristine white chef's hat stood moving from one foot to the other.

“So they were right. You've come back, Lord Ashton.” The chef shot a glance at Cathlin, who was watching this parade of gifts with a bemused look on her face. After a courteous nod, he pulled a foil covered box from behind his back. “For you, my lord.” His cheeks grew red. “Not that it's half enough, not after all you did when those goons came after me. I did owe them a lot of money, of course.” He looked at Cathlin and gave an unhappy shrug. “Gambling debts, you understand. Without Lord Ashton?” The man gave an expressive shrug. “No more crêpes or Grand Marnier soufflés,” he finished grimly. “He is a special man, this one. The truffles, they are small, for I owe him my life. That is why I want
to wish you both every happiness.” He pressed Dominic's arm awkwardly, then backed from the room, eyes misted.

Dominic stood staring at the foiled box in his hands, shoulders stiff, legs braced. After a moment he sighed and turned to face Cathlin. “I didn't know they'd, well—” He waved at the gifts.

Cathlin felt a burn in her throat. “Don't apologize, you crazy, stubborn man. I've been too selfish to see you as you really are. And that, my dear Lord Ashton, is wonderful.
Incomparable.
”

“No.” Dominic's voice was harsh as he sank into a plush damask armchair and tugged Cathlin across his lap. “I'm going to do this right, by heaven. There's something I have to tell you.”

Another shrill buzz sent lines down his forehead. “Come in,” he called curtly.

A uniformed teenager stood self-consciously in the foyer. “Lord Ashton? I have the package you requested from Harrods.”

“Put it on the end table.” Dominic's eyes didn't leave Cathlin's face as he counted out change for a tip. When the door closed softly, he gathered an unsteady breath. “The truth is that I'm a fake, Cathlin. I think I've always been a fake. I've never belonged anywhere. When I was young I felt too French among my schoolmates here and too English when I went back to my family in France. I learned to play a role, hiding my pain—no, denying it ever existed. That's why being a bodyguard was perfect. My life evolved into one great act.”

“Dominic, you don't have to tell me this.”

“No, let me finish. I want you to believe that the act ended that day in Italy when those teenagers died. Serita told you about it, I know. I had to face myself then, Cathlin—what I was and what I wasn't. And that sight made me turn around and never go back. You must believe that. I'm out for good. I will
never
be what your father became.”

“But why didn't you tell me about La Trouvaille?” Cathlin asked gently.