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Dominic answered his phone on the second ring. “Hi, baby.”
“Hey yourself, sugar.” Her voice was a sexy drawl caused for the most part by tiredness. “I’m falling asleep, so I’m going to take the Tube home instead.”
“Alvin can take you.”
“No,” she replied quickly. It would be nice to put her head back on the adjustable headrest of the limousine back seat and snooze as it crawled its way to Knightsbridge, but she couldn’t just take his driver and make him have to find his way home by taxi. “The Tube will be quicker.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Everything’s fine. I promise.” Things were more than fine at the moment—they were wonderful. Some premonition told her that this state of perfection wouldn’t last, but she was too exhausted to worry about it. “I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.”
“You too.” He didn’t seem convinced nothing was amiss, but with the conference he was attending restarting in five minutes she knew he couldn’t stay on the line to drill her further. “Make sure you go straight to bed after you’ve had something to eat.”
“Okay,” she promised. He was probably feeling guilty because he was in the most part to be blamed for her state of exhaustion. Though she had told him that she finally felt ready for him to make their relationship public and all that it entailed, he’d spent several hours over the weekend convincing her she’d made the right decision.
Crushed on the Jubilee Line in the peak-hour five minutes later, Chantelle silently cursed herself. She should have waited at the office until Dominic’s conference was over. Then, she would have been driven to his home in style and more importantly comfort and not sandwiched between two men like the ham between two slices of bread.
But even as she shoved against the bony elbow digging into her ribcage—another man at her side was foolishly trying to read a novel in the cramped space of the filled-to-capacity Tube carriage—she couldn’t help the smile of satisfaction which played around her lips.
Her presentation had gone even better than she’d anticipated. Her colleagues had seemed totally engrossed as she shared her recommendations for the Thamesview Project. Most had asked questions at the end of her twenty-minute talk. A few had even volunteered their expertise, if needed.
Lauren Everton, who had been one of the two members of the panel who had interviewed and subsequently hired Chantelle as a Project Manager for the company had stopped by Chantelle’s desk after lunch and said, “Well done for showing them all what I saw in you that first day. You have justified my faith in you.”
“Thank you, Lauren.”
“Mark would have been just as proud,” the woman had continued.
Mark Albright, the company’s Chief Architect, had been the other panel member and from her first day at the company he had gone out of his way to make Chantelle feel welcome. He was currently undergoing treatment for cancer—proving yet again that bad things always seem to happen to good people. Chantelle prayed every night for his full recovery.
“How is he doing?” she asked the older woman, enquiring more about his state of mind than his physical condition. It was far too early for the treatment to have taken any significant effect.
“He’s totally focused on getting better. He’s already given up smoking and changed his diet.”
“I’m glad to hear that he’s fighting it.” Too often people hear the word ‘cancer’ and think life is over. “When you speak to him next please give him my regards.”
“I will,” Lauren had promised and strode away in her usual, brisk fashion.
Lauren’s affirmation had given Chantelle a huge boost. She wasn’t naïve enough to think that there was anything she could do that would convince Preston Phillips she hadn’t gotten the job lying on her back, but she done enough to convince the other senior managers that the man’s hateful comments of their last meeting were unsubstantiated.
She would still try to maintain as professional a working relationship as possible with Dominic while they were at the office, but she would enjoy his company without feeling guilty. Now she could meet him for their lunchtime trysts without looking back over her shoulder each step she took. They were consenting adults and it was really no one else’s business what they did in their free time.
She joined the short queue at the taxi rank and hopped gratefully into the vacant black taxi when it was her turn.
When the driver pulled up to Dominic’s double-fronted five bedroom home, Chantelle sensed his curiosity as she paid him the fare and a large tip. From her attire he would know that she wasn’t a domestic employee, but it would be equally hard for him to imagine that she actually lived in the building. As least he’d had the decency to express his surprise discreetly.
It was understandable—taxi drivers usually worked regular routes and it must be rare for him to pick up a black person from any of the nearby Sloane Square, Knightsbridge or Hyde Park Corner Stations. With a shrug of acceptance, she turned and walked towards the short flight of stairs that led to the front door.
It opened as she approached. At first she’d wondered how the butler could be on hand to open the door at all times, but she’d since found out that he was alerted by the security specialist who had every inch of the exterior covered by surveillance cameras.
“A cup of Lady Grey for you, Ms Payne?” Rogers inquired sympathetically, taking one look at her face.
“Oh yes, please!” The man was a mind reader.
Perhaps not, she amended. He was aware of the fact that she and Dominic had hardly left his bedroom the entire weekend. He was probably also aware of the fact that they hadn’t been resting or sleeping for much of that time.
“Go on through and I’ll have it brought to you immediately.”
“Thanks, Rogers.” She relinquished both her handbag and laptop to the man’s capable hands as soon as he’d helped her out of her coat.
She’d left the office with the idea of having a long, fragrant bath before slipping into something sexy to welcome Dominic home. She was too tired for that now, she decided as she kicked of her black low-heeled pumps and flexed her tired feet. Just as she curled her feet under her hips and laid her head back against the sofa, a discreet tap signaled the arrival of one of the maids.
The woman bore an elegant white China teapot delicately etched with silver, matching teacup and saucer, and a single decadent blueberry muffin on a polished silver tray.
Chantelle smiled as the woman, dressed in a clean, crisp uniform including a cap which covered her neatly cornrowed hair, poured the tea into the delicate china teacup and added the precise amount of whole milk she’d requested on a previous occasion. Dominic’s servants didn’t appear to need be told twice about anything.
“Thanks, Stacy.”
“You’re welcome, Ms Payne.”
The woman wasn’t old enough to be Chantelle’s mother, but in different circumstances she would have addressed the woman formally, or only informally if she was a close friend or relative. It would take some getting used to, this calling servants by their first names and having them address her formally, but it was what they did with Dominic and she decided it was better to follow the status quo.
She picked up the muffin and inhaled its aromatic goodness as soon as the door closed behind the woman. It looked every bit as good as the large cupcake Rogers had sent up to the study when she’d rung for a mug of coffee the night before. He insisted on spoiling her although she’d complained that her hips would soon be wider than the width of a double-decker bus if he continued. He’d brushed away her objection, saying that every woman deserved a sweet treat now and then. He’d conceded, though, by limiting the treat to a single unit of temptation rather than the half a dozen assorted she’d been served on the first three occasions.
The muffin was warm. Usually she would have assumed that it had been baked earlier in the day and re-warmed, but she was beginning to understand just how efficient a butler Rogers really was. He had probably ordered it to be out of the oven within minutes of her arrival home. Peeling back the brown paper wrapping that had been artistically cut so that the edges looked like rose petals, she broke a piece off and popped it into her mouth. She purred in appreciation as the tart sweetness of the blueberries hit her palate. If possible it tasted better than it looked—and that took some beating with the vivid color of blueberries just bursting through the golden brown top in places.
She felt better for having scoffed the muffin by eating the dozen fresh blueberries which had been artistically placed around it. She’d thought of not joining Dominic for a workout in the multiple-purpose gym in his basement later, but she might have to reconsider.
Even the tea served in his house was tastier than any she’d had before, she acknowledged as she poured herself a second cup. Tetley and PG Tips had been more in keeping with her budget in the past and hadn’t thought that the more expensive tea would have tasted any different, but it did. Who knew?
With a contended sigh she leaned back against the comfy chair and drifted off.
***
SHE WOKE TO THE SOUND of voices about an hour later. She sat up with a start and looked around her trying to figure out where she was and why her neck ached. Then she remembered that she had curled up for a quick snooze in the lounge, still dressed in the skirt suit she had worn to work that day.
Dominic’s home!
The tiredness she’d felt as she made the journey home earlier fell away. She couldn’t wait to hear his opinion of her presentation. He’d been as attentive as any of the others although he was already familiar with most of the ideas and had given her a nod of approval as she taken a seat so that he could continue with the other matters to be addressed at the meeting.
“Ms Robinson, it would be no trouble at all for me to call the Ritz and have them ready a room to your taste there.”
Chantelle’s step faltered at the mention of the woman’s name. It was no wonder Rogers didn’t sound his usual unflappable self. She had never heard him anything other than calm, cool and collected before and hadn’t thought it was possible to ruffle the man’s feathers. But, the unexpected appearance of Dominic’s former lover seemed to have him in a slight bother.
“Rogers, don’t be silly, darling.” A throaty, utterly feminine laugh rang out. “Dominic told me about his new love interest. There’s no need to be so coy.”
Love interest? The woman was dismissing her as though she was some trinket that had momentarily caught Dominic’s eye! On hearing the woman’s voice, Chantelle’s first thought had been to exit the room via the rear doors, which opened onto the second living room to create a larger space when Dominic was entertaining, and make her way upstairs unseen. No, she decided suddenly, she wasn’t going to run upstairs and hide like a frightened child. She would face ‘the monster’.
“Is there a problem, Rogers?” she asked coolly, taking in the woman’s flawless appearance in one quick glance. She doubted that the woman had made the long flight today. Her eyes were a clear, rested white; her caramel skin appeared dewy and pampered; her slim-fitting, burnt orange linen dress was only lightly creased across the hipline—it should have looked like crinkled cotton—and the matching stilettos were totally inappropriate for travel. The long hair pulled back from her oval face into what appeared to be a French pleat was immaculate. The woman’s figure was fabulous, Chantelle acknowledged with a tinge of envy. Her large breasts thrust forward like offerings on a plate, while her small, trim waist flared into hips as ample as her bust. A true hourglass.
“No problem at all, Ms Payne,” the butler hurriedly assured her with his usual aplomb. “Ms Robinson—”
“Are you the new housekeeper?” The woman’s dark gaze took in Chantelle’s slightly creased skirt and mussed hair as she asked the question. Chantelle knew that the woman knew exactly who she was. The question was meant to be an insult.
This was a woman scorned.
“I’m Dominic’s girlfriend,” she informed the woman, keeping her voice even. She didn’t believe in women fighting each other—there was so much they had to fight against already—and certainly, never over a man. “And you are?”
“A dear friend of his.” The woman turned her head dismissively and once again addressed the butler. “Rogers, surely you don’t intend to have me standing in this hallway all day?”
“I’ll show her up to one of the guestrooms, Rogers.” Chantelle took matters into her own hands. Whether the woman stayed or not was Dominic’s decision, but for now she would place the woman and her possessions in the bedroom the farthest away from the master bedroom. “Have her luggage brought up, please.”
“Very well, Ms Payne,” Roger conceded, looking at Chantelle apologetically. Well, she sensed rather than saw the look of apology—the man’s face was as impassive as usual.
“You’re much younger than I’d imagined,” the woman remarked, turning her head to give Chantelle another critical glance. With the three-inch advantage the woman’s shoes gave her over Chantelle’s stylist but sensible pumps, they were almost equal in height. “I’m surprised you’re able to satisfy Dominic’s veracious sexual appetite.”
And you’re twice as old as I’d thought you’d be, bitch!
Now where had that nasty thought come from? Perhaps being ‘crazy in love’ did mess up your mind. Forget about not wanting to argue with the woman; Chantelle felt a strong urge to punch her in the face!
The other woman’s maturity had come as a surprise to her. Though Adele’s face was smooth and unlined, it was the face of a woman in her early- to mid-forties. And she was more than a woman scorned, Chantelle amended mentally. She was a cougar with sharp claws and a lethal tongue.
“My age is none of your concern,” she informed the older woman coldly. “Neither is my ability to satisfy Dominic.”
“That’s quite true,” the woman responded. “I should warn you, though, that he gets bored very easily. Enjoy him while you can.”
Rather than rise to the woman’s bait, Chantelle laughed and said, “Oh, I’m enjoying him immensely.”
Only the tightening of the woman’s lips revealed her annoyance.
The front door opened as Chantelle stepped on the bottom riser to precede the woman up the stairs.
Finally! She turned in relief as Dominic entered, carrying his slimline briefcase and the jacket of his suit over his arm.
About to excuse herself and hurry to him, Chantelle was caught off guard when the woman screamed, “Dominic, darling!”
Rogers barely had enough time to relieve his employer of the items he was carrying before the woman ran effortlessly across the marble floor in her high heels and threw herself against him. Chantelle’s temper flared as Dominic wrapped his arms around the woman and hugged her close.
“Hello, Adele.”
Hello, Adele? Instead of greeting the woman so fondly, he should be asking her what the devil she was doing here! There would be hell to pay if he had invited the bloody woman.
“Sweetheart?” Dominic eased the woman away and held out a hand to Chantelle.
She felt self conscious as the three of them watched her walk across the floor, but she couldn’t help the smile of triumph that parted her lips at the sight of Adele’s stricken face. She took Dominic’s proffered hand and he pulled her in close and kissed the side of her face. “Sorry I’m a bit later than planned. The traffic was horrendous.”
“That’s okay,” she responded, almost purring like a cat that got the cream. “I had a snooze on the sofa and I’m feeling much better now.”
“I see you’ve met Adele.” It was a statement not a question, but Chantelle nodded her head in acknowledgement anyway. “Good. Rogers, show Adele up to the Green Room and ensure that she’s comfortably settled in.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Adele, dinner in an hour?”
“That would be wonderful.” The woman’s catty smile was equal to the one Chantelle had given her a few minutes ago. The Green Room was right next to Dominic’s master bedroom. What the hell was he thinking?
“See you then.” Dominic steered Chantelle in the direction of the living room as Rogers gallantly extended his elbow to the other woman.
“Why does she have to stay here?” Chantelle pulled away from Dominic’s encircling arm as soon as he closed the door behind them.
“She’s a friend whose hospitality I’ve enjoyed while in The Bahamas,” he told her patiently. “It’s only fair that I do the same for her in London.”
“You were in a relationship with her then!”
“She’s still my friend and I will treat her as such.”
“Friend, huh? Am I going to wake up in the middle of the night and find that you’ve nipped next door for a quick shag with the old hag?”
Dominic’s face hardened and Chantelle knew she had gone too far. She knew that she should be acting as mature as she could so as not to seem infantile compared to Adele, instead she felt like stamping her foot and behaving like a three-year-old.
“That remark is beneath you, Chantelle.” He held her by the upper arms and forced her to look into his eyes. “I’ve told you there’s no one else but you. It’s up to you whether you believe it or not.”
She desperately wanted to say the three little works that he wanted to hear, I trust you, but they refused to come out.
Dominic sighed and released her. “Let’s go up and get ready for dinner.”
*****
