''I Do''...Take Two!

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''I Do''...Take Two! Page 16

by Merline Lovelace


  “Oh. No, of course not. Come in.”

  She trailed after him as he aimed the antenna in a slow arc over the sitting and dining areas. It occurred to Kate that if the suite did contain any hidden cameras, someone had sure got an eyeful the past few days.

  Travis emerged at that point, fully dressed except for his bare feet, and nodded to Carlo’s shadow. “Hey, Joe. The bedroom and bathroom are all yours.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Does he do this every place Carlo goes?” Kate asked as Russo disappeared into the other room.

  “Pretty much. Kidnappings almost dropped off the scope after Italy passed a law freezing the assets of a victim’s family so they can’t pay a ransom. But individuals with Carlo’s wealth and high profile are still prime targets for blackmail or extortion or even industrial espionage. Joe’s just making sure that whatever his boss says or does here doesn’t get doctored by some clever film editor and put us all in an awkward situation.”

  “But...didn’t you tell me his cousin owned this hotel?”

  “I did, and your point is?”

  She was still grappling with the idea of not being able to trust your own cousin when Russo reappeared.

  “All clear. I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Can’t you stay and have a drink with us?”

  “I’m still on duty.”

  “The minibar’s well stocked with soda and Pellegrino. And there,” she said hopefully when the doorbell chimed again, “is room service. If you can’t drink, Joe, you can eat. Please join us.”

  “Well...”

  “Good. Now I’ll let you two gentlemen handle the setup while I get dressed.”

  She beat a hasty retreat to the bedroom. The hairbrush got tossed on the vanity. The plush robe joined the discarded towels dotting the bathroom floor. Grabbing a pair of clean, lace-trimmed hipsters, Kate had one foot in when the bedroom door opened again.

  Her first thought was her husband. Her second, a curious six-year-old. With a small squeak, she hopped behind the shield of the bathroom wall.

  “Travis?”

  “Nope,” Dawn sang out as she crossed the bedroom. “C’est moi. So where did you find that hottie out there in the— Whoa! What happened here?”

  She came to a dead stop, taking in the damp towels, the discarded robe, the puddles of water. When her gaze shifted to the woman caught with her hipsters midway up one thigh, her mouth curved in a smirk.

  “Never mind. I’ve got the picture.”

  Kate shoved her second leg into the panties. “Forget the picture. Hand me that bra and help me do something with my hair.”

  “Why mess with it?” Dawn dangled the scrap of lace from her upturned palm. “That just-did-my-husband-in-the-shower style looks good on you.”

  Kate hooked on the bra and snatched up the brush. “Here. Work some magic, and fast.”

  “I bet that’s not what Travis said.”

  “Dawnnnnnn.”

  “Okay, okay. Sit!”

  Kate couldn’t help herself. “Actually, that’s what I said.”

  Eyes dancing, she indicated the shower seat with a jerk of her chin. Dawn followed her lead, saw the abandoned soap and washcloth, and started laughing. Kate held out for all of four or five seconds before she joined in.

  They were both still giggling when Callie walked in. “Is this a private party?”

  “It was, when the water was running,” Kate said, giggling harder.

  “And she and Travis got naked.”

  “And he used the soap to—”

  Callie held up a hand. “Stop! I’ve—”

  “Got the picture,” Kate and Dawn chorused simultaneously.

  Helpless with laughter now, they collapsed. Kate put her back to the smooth tiles and simply slid down until her butt hit the damp floor. Dawn folded her legs and sank with the grace of a ballerina.

  Callie shook her head but couldn’t hold out against their combined silliness. Drifting down, she joined them. “You two are nuts. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Is that so?” Dawn poked her in the arm. “So why is Miss Priss ’n’ Boots here on the floor with us?”

  “Because you look so happy. Especially Kate.” A soft smile lit Callie’s violet eyes. “It’s been a while since you laughed like that.”

  “I know. I am happy. And oddly enough, I owe at least part of this feeling to the bitch-whore.”

  Callie and Dawn exchanged startled looks.

  “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  “Don’t have a clue.”

  They swung back to Kate.

  “Okay, girl, talk.”

  “I met her. Today, up at the base.”

  Dawn’s face went hard. “That son of a bitch Travis! He didn’t tell you she was there?”

  “He doesn’t know. And she’s not at Aviano. Her unit’s in transit, she couldn’t say to where, but they touched down this morning and leave again tomorrow.”

  “And you believe her?”

  “Yes.”

  Dawn wasn’t convinced, but Callie laid a restraining hand on her arm. “Why did meeting the captain make such a difference, Kate?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” She lifted a hand, let it drop. “As brief as the encounter was, it seemed freeing to me. I let go of the anger, the hurt, the guilt I’ve been dragging around like a damned anchor for so long.”

  “You had nothing to feel guilty about!”

  “Oh, Dawn, it wasn’t all one-sided. Breakups never are. You know that.”

  Her friend tipped her chin, and red rushed into her cheeks. Smothering a curse, Kate regretted the reminder of Dawn’s near marriages. But before she could apologize, the bedroom door opened and Travis walked in.

  He got as far as the foot of the bed before he spotted them in the bathroom, sitting knee to knee on the wet tiles. He stopped short, his brows rising as he surveyed Kate’s bra and panties, Dawn’s flushed face, and Callie’s serene indifference to the wet splotch spreading across her rear, compliments of the towel she’d hunkered down on.

  “Is this a private party,” he drawled, taking in the scene, “or can the rest of us join you?”

  Kate looked at Dawn. Dawn looked at Callie. Their lips trembled. Their eyes brimmed with laughter. It burst from all three of them at the same instant, an uninhibited celebration of friendship and flat-out hilarity.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The cocktail party was a great success.

  As Kate had hoped, the pizza rolls and three-dimensional puzzle totally absorbed Tommy. Not just him, she noted with amusement. Travis’s engineering degree and passion for all things mechanical drew him like a moth to the table where Tommy had laid out the puzzle pieces. Travis exercised admirable restraint, however, and confined his input into the construction process to observation and the occasional casual suggestion that a certain piece might fit better somewhere else.

  Kate thoroughly enjoyed the tableau they presented—Travis with his dark hair and square jaw leaning over Tommy of the angel-blue eyes and impish grin while the impossibly angled structure rose inch by inch in front of them.

  Despite his fascination with the puzzle, Travis didn’t neglect his duties as host. He kept everyone supplied with food and drink and contributed to the lively conversation that ranged from Dawn’s humiliating defeat at hide-and-seek to Callie’s visit to the Guggenheim Museum to Carlo’s upcoming participation in a speedboat race in Lake Geneva, Switzerland.

  Carlo had claimed a seat on the sofa next to Dawn. Kate and Callie sat across the coffee table from them, while Travis divided his attention between the adults and Tommy. Joe Russo stood a little apart, listening more than participating. If the prince had been surprised to find his bodyguard included in the convivial group,
he didn’t show it.

  Brian Ellis arrived thirty minutes into the gathering with a positive report on Mrs. Wells’s condition and assurances for Tommy that he would have a chance to say goodbye before his nanny left for California.

  “We’ll go to the hospital first thing in the morning,” he promised, ruffling his son’s hair. “I told her we’d ride in the boat with her to the airport, too. If you’re very careful and don’t try to do wheelies, she may even let you try out her motorized wheelchair.”

  The boy had been solemn eyed up to the mention of wheelies. Kate could almost see the possibilities whirling through his fertile mind as he showed his dad the construction project. With Tommy busily reengaged, Brian loosened his tie, accepted a glass of prosecco with a grateful smile and joined the two on the oversize sofa.

  “Everything go okay this afternoon?” he asked Dawn. “Or do I really want to know?”

  “We had fun.”

  “They took turns hiding from each other,” Carlo elaborated, stretching his arm across the back of the sofa. “Dawn was just telling us how long she had to search before she found Tommaso tucked behind a suitcase on the top shelf of your closet.”

  Casually, so casually, the prince’s fingers brushed the curve of Dawn’s shoulder. The shoulder nearest Brian, Kate noted.

  “The top shelf is one of his favorite hiding places,” Tommaso’s father admitted with an affectionate glance at his son. “Scared the bejesus out of me the first time I found him there.”

  “What I want to know is how the heck he got up there,” Dawn groused, making a face at the grinning six-year-old. “Your little stinker won’t tell me.”

  “You can’t tell her, either, Dad! That’s just ’tween us guys.”

  Brian lifted his glass in a salute to male secrets and asked Callie about her afternoon. She expanded a little on her visit to the Guggenheim, then described taking a good hour to find her way back to the hotel.

  Carlo’s white teeth gleamed below the black ruff of his mustache. “Getting lost is required of all first-time visitors to Venice. But now that you have fulfilled that basic requirement, there are parts of the city that most tourists never find their way to. Glorious works of art in obscure little churches. Rooftop terraces with views that will steal your breath. Sunsets over the Lido. You must let me show you some of these hidden gems. You and your so charming friend.”

  His dark eyes glinting, he let his fingers graze over Dawn’s shoulder again. The move was more blatant this time and provoked markedly different reactions.

  Dawn slanted the prince an amused glance. Callie’s response to Carlo’s invitation was polite, but cool. Travis looked away and scratched the side of his nose. And when Kate got up to refill the cheese plate, she caught a glimpse of a very cynical expression flitting across Joe’s face.

  Brian showed the least reaction. Downing another sip of his wine, he engaged Callie in a lively discussion of Venice’s lack of a direct route to any point on the tourist map. Her natural reserve melted under his gentle teasing, and the animation that came into her face seemed to snag the attention of more than one of the males present.

  When Dawn decided to help Kate, though, she recaptured their instant notice by pushing off the sofa with sinuous grace and smoothing her filmy top over her hips. Carlo, Brian and Joe all followed the downward sweep of her palms. Even Tommy looked up, broke into a smile and called her over to check his progress.

  Travis, bless him, was too used to Kate’s friends to spare Dawn more than a quick glance. He got up, as well, to refill wineglasses, but Brian turned down a refill.

  “Thanks, but Tom and I better head back to our place. We have to get to the hospital early tomorrow morning,” he added when his son protested. “We’re accompanying Mrs. Wells to the airport, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. But my puzzle...”

  Travis was ready with a solution. Retrieving the box they’d transported the prosecco in, he tore off one of the lid flaps. “Here. Let’s slide this piece under the tower, then place it inside the box. The unassembled pieces can go back in their original carton.”

  Everyone held their breath during the delicate maneuver, but the half-constructed tower made a safe transition to the wine box. While Tommy and Travis gathered the rest of the pieces, Brian used the house phone to call down to the desk for a water taxi.

  With only a little prompting from his dad, the boy thanked Travis and Kate again for the puzzle and said good-night to Callie, the prince and Joe Russo before beaming a smile at his substitute nanny.

  “See ya tomorrow, Dawn.”

  “See ya, dude.”

  The Ellises’ departure turned the others’ thoughts to dinner, and Carlo immediately took charge. “You must allow me to take you to my favorite place to dine in Venice. I’ll just make a call, yes, and have them ready a table for us.”

  Callie tried to bow out, but the prince wouldn’t hear of it. “No, you must come. It’s an experience you’ll not soon forget.”

  His call made, Joe got on his phone and sent one of his men ahead to do a sweep. While that was in progress, Dawn gestured to her snug white ankle slacks and filmy top.

  “Do we need to change?”

  “But no, cara.” Carlo’s reply was low and warm, his glance a caress. “You are perfect just as you are.”

  “Careful, Your Highness. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  A thoroughly delighted Carlo tucked her arm into his side. “It’s hardly flattery when one speaks only the truth. But let’s have dinner, shall we, and see where more such truth leads.”

  The two of them should have looked like everyone’s stereotype of a rich man with his latest toy—the tall, voluptuous redhead clinging to the arm of a stocky fireplug of a man some six or eight inches shorter. But Dawn’s bubbling personality took the prince’s obvious admiration out of the realm of the ridiculous and made it completely understandable.

  Still, Kate and Callie shared a quick been-there, done-that glance as they gathered their purses and left.

  * * *

  The next four hours turned out to be a total delight. The prince was obviously smitten with Dawn but included both Kate and Callie in his exaggerated gallantries. And the restaurant he took them to was something out of a dream.

  Their vaporetto drew up at the landing of what looked like a private palace. Flaming torches illuminated the elaborate facade. A footman in silks, lace and a powdered wig escorted them up a flight of stairs to a marble-floored foyer lit by hundreds of candles. Joe had them wait there while he conferred with the associate he’d sent ahead. A tall, lanky African-American with a Texas twang, the associate gave the green light.

  Carlo didn’t press when Joe declined to join them for dinner, leading Kate to think the two men probably preferred not to cross the line between personal and business. Then the footman escorted them into a small private dining room that was right out of fifteenth-century Venice. Candles flickered in tall stands. The table was dark, elaborately carved and set with gold plates. Handblown glass goblets in six different sizes added brilliant, gem-like colors to the table, while delicate notes from a lute and harpsichord drifted from hidden speakers.

  Like the footman, the servers who swept in with crystal flagons of wine wore silks and lace and powdered wigs. They presented no menus. Instead, the guests feasted on a meal that proceeded course by stately course. Like the servers and the place settings, each course replicated epicurean masterpieces from the height of the Venetian empire.

  It was almost 1:00 a.m. when they finally rolled out of the dining room. Joe must have been alerted by the servers. He met them at the stairs that led down to the landing and assisted them into the vaporetto he had waiting.

  As they wound through the moonlit canals, Carlo suggested another stop. “You must let me take you to the Club Blu. The jazz is the best you’ll
hear this side of the Atlantic.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll pass,” Callie said firmly. “After that wonderful dinner and all the hours I walked today, I’m calling it a night.”

  Carlo made a gallant attempt to change her mind. Ditto Kate’s and Travis’s, but it was obvious to all concerned that the prince wasn’t disappointed to have Dawn to himself.

  Callie got off first at the Gritti Palace. Kate and Travis disembarked next at the Palazzo Alleghri. They lingered on the landing, watching as the vaporetto glided away. Dawn and the prince lounged shoulder to shoulder in the rear compartment, Joe standing up front next to the driver.

  Travis broke the small silence they left in their wake. “Any bets as to when we’ll see Ms. McGill again?”

  Kate chose not to place a wager.

  * * *

  To her surprise, Dawn buzzed Kate’s cell phone while she and Travis were at breakfast. After the monster meal last night, they’d opted for coffee and a basket of rolls consumed in lazy leisure on their balcony overlooking the Grand Canal.

  “You’re up early,” Kate said by way of greeting.

  “Things to do, people to see, places to go,” Dawn chirped, sounding bright and cheerful and un-hungover. “Are you still flying home from Rome with Callie on Wednesday?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  And Travis would follow as soon as he wrapped his special project. Until he did, Kate intended to keep very busy. They’d already discussed recombining households. Travis didn’t care where they lived as long as they were together, so she planned to see if her upscale DC condo complex had a larger unit available. If they did, she would move and get the new place ready for dual occupancy. If not, she’d have to scout out another complex or start looking at homes.

  Busy reviewing her mental to-do, it took a second or two for Kate to wonder what had prompted Dawn’s question. Several reasons jumped into her mind, including the possibility that her impulsive friend had made some spur-of-the-moment arrangements with the prince.

 

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