by Maggie Cox
‘Let me take your coat.’
To Sophie’s astonishment, he worked his way deliberately down her buttons, popping open each one through its matching buttonhole with consummate ease. ‘Dominic, I told you that I wasn’t planning on staying!’
Impenetrable green eyes surveyed the plain black sweater she wore beneath her coat, the thin material hugging her breasts in a way that drew attention to the delightfulness of her shape. At the bottom edge of her sweater about half an inch of taut sexy midriff was on display above the plaited tan belt of her jeans, and Dominic’s admiration intensified immediately. The outfit she was wearing might not scream designer chic, or be the most ‘feminine’ of clothing he could envisage, but he couldn’t deny it was as sexy as hell.
‘And I’m not dressed for dinner…You can see that!’
‘You’ll soon discover that being a friend of mine brings with it a certain amount of licence, Sophie. No one will bat an eyelid.’
Even if Sophie had believed him, which she didn’t, walking into his grand drawing room looking as if she hadn’t even bothered to think about what she was wearing, was not something she would do willingly. If any of his guests were women—and they were bound to be—ofcourse they would bat an eyelid. They’d probably think that Dominic had seriously taken leave of his senses—entertaining a nobody like her, who couldn’t even trouble herself to dress properly for dinner.
‘I don’t think so. If you knew how women can be, you wouldn’t say that.’
‘I do know women, I can assure you, and the only thing they will be is envious of your youth and beauty.’
About to protest, Sophie clamped her mouth shut, her pulse skittering as Dominic leant down and brought his face within the merest inch of hers. Closing his eyes, he deliberately breathed her in, his seductive cologne and body heat stirring the tiny space that separated them, making every tiny hair that covered Sophie’s skin stand on end.
It was agony being so close, not free to touch him as she longed to, and for a dangerous second she almost raised her hand to stroke it down the side of his face. But he opened his eyes before that happened, and glinted down at her as though he could set her passion alight with just a glance.Which he could , Sophie admitted silently, again secretly admiring the generous blond lashes that gilded those amazing eyes of his.
‘Andrews!’ he called out, suddenly stepping back, and the manservant who had answered the door to Sophie yesterday appeared from a side door and walked smartly across the marble floor towards them.
‘Yes, Mr Van Straten?’
‘Take Dalton’s coat, if you please.’
‘Dominic—I told you, I’m not staying!’
‘Iwant you to stay,’ he told her firmly, even as he helped her out of her coat and handed it to Andrews.
‘What about whatI want?’ she asked feebly, feeling as if she were standing on stage, with a single spotlight trained deliberately on her and every vulnerable emotion and gesture brutally exposed for public delectation.
Glancing down at her figure-hugging jeans, she wished she had at least put on a skirt. But it was too late now, and anyway it was her own fault that she found herself in such a dilemma. She should have been firmer with Dominic. She should have—
‘This way.’
Sliding a possessive arm around her waist, he led her towards the ominous double doors. And although Sophie vehemently wanted to resist his persuasion to accompany him into that room she found herself curiously unable to do so. It was as though her very will had somehow taken up residency somewhere else.
They entered to find Dominic’s guests standing around with drinks in their hands deep in the throes of conversation. Their animated faces clearly denoted their enjoyment, and the sight immediately made Sophie feel excluded from that elite little circle. She knew instantly that even though she stood at Dominic’s side she wasn’t like them in any way. She didn’t move in the same privileged strata that they did, and even if she’d had the inclination or desire to convince them differently both her obvious unease as well as the way she was dressed would reveal her to be a usurper.
As several heads turned towards her she longed to break free from Dominic’s light hold on her waist and escape. But it was too late for that.
‘This is Sophie, everyone. She dropped by to tell me she was declining my invitation to dinner, but as you can see I’ve managed to persuade her to stay.’
Immediately taking umbrage at the surprising frankness with which he explained both her presence and her somewhat casual appearance, Sophie was nevertheless glad that at least now explanations for her attire would hopefully not be required. As to an explanation of what she was doing there at all—well, she would just have to pray that people would respect her privacy.
But, enduring the not-inconsiderable speculation in the glances of Dominic’s other well-dressed guests, she seriously doubted it. Someone passed her a glass of wine from a tray and she glanced up and smiled her thanks. The man who’d undertaken the task was distinguished-looking, about fifty, and could not conceal the open curiosity in his frank gaze.
‘I must say Dominic has kept very quiet about you, little Sophie. Where on earth did you two meet?’
‘At a wedding,’ Dominic interceded, the look in his eyes plainly conveying to Sophie that he would take care of things.
‘Oh?’ The man quirked an interested eyebrow. ‘Someone we know? I heard that Lord Barrington’s daughter Jemima got married to some stockbroker in the City the other week. Emily and I didn’t go, of course. We were in Barbados for Roddy’s twenty-first.’
As other people came to join their little group, the conversation proceeded, concerning people Sophie neither knew nor cared to know, their names bandied about like upmarket confetti and the mostly superficial exchange of words absolutely convincing her that she didn’t belong there. Either with Dominic himselfor his upper-class friends.
She found herself longing for the familiar and easy comfort of her little maisonette, with her music playing on the stereo while she read or ate her dinner, her candles lit and her incense burning. The customary ritual was always a signal for her to shake off the cares of the day and relax. When a girl lived alone things like that became important cornerstones on which she could rely.
When she felt Dominic’s hand clasp her own to his side, Sophie glanced up, startled to find him smiling back at her. The dimly lit lamps that burned in the room made his already arresting gaze even more troubling and unsettling to her peace of mind.
‘Marcus was just asking what you do for a living, Sophie.’
‘I’m a teacher,’ she said clearly, her chin raised a little as if to say to the man standing opposite her,Make of that whatever you will.
‘Lucky pupils,’ Marcus remarked, laughing, but Sophie could find no humour in the condescending comment. ‘What subject do you teach, Sophie?’
‘A bit of everything,’ She shrugged, and deliberately pulled her hand free from Dominic’s. ‘I’m a primary school teacher.’
‘Of course. That makes sense.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I only meant that you look far too sweet to be teaching big rough boys and girls, my dear. Don’t you agree, Dominic?’
‘Don’t be fooled,’ he replied, his green eyes openly teasing as they swept her indignant expression. ‘She’s a veritable tigress beneath that innocent little exterior.’
Gulping down a bit too much wine, Sophie sensed the alcohol delivering an intoxicating surge into her bloodstream, and for a moment her head swam.
‘Dominic.’ She addressed him, the expression in her eyes as meaningful as she could make it. ‘Could I have a word in private?’
‘Certainly.’ Without hesitation he slid his hand beneath her elbow, excused them both from his guests, and led her back outside into the entrance hall. ‘What is it?’
Straight away Dominic knew that she was uncomfortable in his home, and was hating every second she had to spend with pompous individuals like Marcus. Bu
t Marcus’s wife Emily was a warm, very liberal person, who accepted people just as they were, and she’d been a good friend of Dominic’s for years. Unfortunately Emily had had to decline dinner at the last minute, and now Dominic wished he had put off the little dinner party he’d spontaneously arranged in preference for taking Sophie out to dinner or merely entertaining her on his own at home.
‘I really can’t stay for dinner. I have to go.’
‘You mean you don’t want to be here?’
Reddening a little round her jaw, Sophie spied a small table a couple of feet away and went to stand her wine glass on it. When she straightened again, Dominic was watching her intently, his expression unsmiling.
‘Your friends aren’t exactly my kind of people,’ she told him. ‘You must know that. I don’t have a thing in common with any of them.’
‘You sell yourself short, Sophie. You are a schoolteacher—an educated woman. Surely it is not beyond you to engage in a little meaningless conversation for…what?…a couple of hours at most?’
‘Look, Dominic…I’mtired . I’ve had a busy day, and all I really want to do is put my feet up and unwind a little. It was kind of you to invite me to dinner, but, like I said when I first arrived, I had my doubts all along.’
He didn’t want her to go.Now that she was here, with her very tempting little body and her enormous blue eyes causing almost painfully acute little parries of desire throughout his body, Dominic wanted to keep her there. Once again he silently cursed his decision to have the dinner party instead of keeping Sophie all to himself.
‘When can I see you again?’
His question, direct to the point of bluntness, completely took Sophie by surprise.Was he serious? Or was he only pursuing her because since they had slept together she had seemed to cool towards him?
‘I’m sure you must be a very busy man. I think I—’
‘I am not interested in discussing my schedule with you, Sophie. You can no doubt understand my frustration that this evening has not proceeded as well as I’d hoped. If you tell me when you are next free, I willmake time for us to meet.’
A tiny muscle throbbed in his forehead, denoting a surge of emotion that surprised Sophie. As she studied his dauntingly good-looking visage, a fierce awakening of need and want throbbed through her body and made her head spin. Shedid want to see him again, because even when she wasn’t with him she could not stop her incessant daydreaming about him. More than just a little overwhelmed by his highly potent charms, nevertheless Sophie instinctively knew that she had to protect herself—by keeping that knowledge to herself.
‘Friday night,’ she told him, rubbing her suddenly chilled arms. ‘I’m free Friday night.’
‘What time do you finish school?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘When do you finish teaching on Friday? I will come with Louis to pick you up. I have a meeting at a hotel in Suffolk from six until eight. I have already planned to stay there on Friday night. You can stay with me. You can take a leisurely bath, get ready, and then we can dine together at around eight-thirty. What do you think?’
What do I think?Sophie silently repeated in panic.I think I’ve just discovered a completely reckless side to myself that I didn’t know existed until now! Surely I must be crazy to agree to spend another night with this man? And not justany man. A man who could not onlybuy the hotel they’d be staying in a hundred times over, but who was completely out of her league in every way!And what will Diana say when she finds out?
‘Dominic…I appreciate the invitation, I really do, but—’
‘You are not going to turn me down?’
She could see immediately that the idea was anathema to him. Of all the women he could see, why had he picked on Sophie? She just couldn’t understand it. Okay, so they had practically set the sheets on fire in bed together, but she didn’t kid herself. For Dominic it was probably a regular and commonplace occurrence. He must meet beautiful women all the time.
It wasn’t that she didn’t value herself, or that she was putting herself down. It was merely Sophie’s belief that men like Dominic Van Straten, who could have every single thing their heart desired—including their pick of stunning women—weren’t generally known for dating ordinary, unassuming primary-school teachers. And especially not ones who lived in a run-down part of London and occasionally grabbed a Pot Noodle for lunch to eat on the run because they were either too busy or simply too disorganised to arrange anything else.
The kind of women that Sophie fully believed inhabited Dominic’s world would eat in fancy restaurants and nibble lettuce leaves to keep their weight down. They’d go to plastic surgeons in Harley Street
and have Botox and any number of nips and tucks to stay beautiful. But, regarding Dominic now, his emerald eyes blazing back at her with undisguised need, Sophie suddenly ran out of excuses to turn him down. The scary truth was, she didn’twant to turn him down. No matter how unsuitably matched they were in reality.
‘You really want to pick me up from school?’ she asked, tucking a glossy dark curl behind her ear.
Dominic allowed his shoulders to relax. Relief ebbed through him with force. ‘I am not accustomed to saying things I don’t mean, Sophie.’
‘Well…’ Sophie shrugged. ‘I don’t know what my colleagues are going to think when you turn up in that chauffeur-driven car of yours on Friday.’
A genuinely amused smile curved her lips at the thought.
‘Do you mind what they think, Sophie?’
Staring back at him, her smile disappearing as sensual heat flared hotly inside her, Sophie shook her head. ‘No,’ she admitted, defiance making her lift her chin. She didn’t tell him then that she generally held herself a little apart from her colleagues, and didn’t believe in gossip or getting too friendly. ‘It’s none of their business what I do or who I see outside of school hours.’
‘Good.’
‘I have to go now.’
‘So you said.’ Dominic’s eyes glittered, as if he would hold her there and make her stay with just the sheer force of his will alone.
‘Three-thirty,’ Sophie told him, suddenly both nervous and enthralled at the idea of seeing him again, and spending the night with him on Friday.
‘What?’ He looked at her like a man who’d just woken up from a very erotic dream.
‘You asked what time I finish…it’s three-thirty.’
‘I’ll find Andrews and get your coat.’
As Sophie watched Dominic stride down the hall ahead of her, she couldn’t help admiring the broad, undoubtedly muscular shoulders beneath his tuxedo, and the tall, imposing bearing that exuded such innate authority. A little frisson of pleasure danced down her spine and made her hug her arms tightly across her chest as her nipples tingled in guilty sexual awareness. It was hard to believe, but she suddenly found herself realising that three-thirty on Friday afternoon just couldn’t come quickly enough…
CHAPTER FIVE
HURRYINGout of school, with a heavy knapsack weighing down her shoulder and carrying her overnight bag, Sophie saw the car, its Rolls Royce insignia at the head, gleaming and stately, waiting by the kerb. Her heart skipped a beat, then, before she could catch her breath, promptly skipped another one.
Catching a glimpse of Louis behind the wheel, Sophie wondered if Dominic was observing her from behind those tinted windows at the back, and self-consciously slowed down. The last thing she wanted to appear was eager, and the only reason she had been hurrying was that she was actually ten minutes later than she’d said she would be.
Just before she reached the car, a colleague of Sophie’s—a maths teacher called Barbara Budd—caught up with her, her curious gaze clearly trying to work out whether the gleaming vehicle had anything to do with Sophie.
‘So, what are you up to this weekend Sophie?’
‘Going to see friends. How about you?’ Feeling a rush of colour flood her cheeks, Sophie tried to appear nonchalant, but guessed by the speculation still m
irrored in Barbara’s inquisitive hazel eyes that she hadn’t quite pulled it off.
‘That’s never your lift, is it?’ the other woman persisted, ignoring the question.
‘I’m sorry, Barbara, I have to go. I’m already late. Have a good weekend, won’t you?’
Knowing that her nosy colleague was still observing her as she reached the car and Louis stepped out to relieve her of her bags, Sophie wished that Dominic had chosen a less conspicuous place in which to wait for her. The street that the little Church of England primary school was situated in was hardly home to the kind of expensive vehicles that inhabited a billionaire’s world, and no doubt it wasn’t just her colleague Barbara who was looking on and wondering. On Monday morning, no doubt, the teachers’ staffroom would be rife with gossip about Sophie’s lift on Friday.
