London Lace, #2

by Catou Martine

  Todd slipped his arm around Eliza’s shoulder. “Shall we?”

  She nodded. As they walked away, she whispered, “Do you think Jimmy knows?”

  Todd laughed. “Probably.”

  Eliza stopped walking. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. “Wait a minute. Have you done that before?… With some else?”

  His stride had taken him one step further away and his arm had slipped from her shoulder. He faced her.

  “What? No.”

  “Has it been some fantasy of yours to do that, in there?” She didn’t like how she was feeling. Used. Tricked. Foolish.

  “Eliza,” he said quietly and seriously. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I never imagined doing such a thing until today. And I don’t think I could have imagined it with anyone else but you. Didn’t you enjoy it?”

  He stepped forward and took her hand in his. He lifted her fingers to his lips. “One minute you’re as strong and wild as a stallion and the next you’re as skittish as traumatized gelding. What’s wrong?”

  She took a deep breath. “I did enjoy it. Maybe too much. I’m afraid to feel this good.”

  “Don’t ever be afraid of anything good. Those memories make the pain we later endure more bearable.”

  Why was he talking about memories and pain? She didn’t want to cry again.

  “But you can’t blame me if I decided to use my memories of today as part of my fantasies.” His chuckle had a sexy undertone. “I plan to relive that as often as I can.”

  She smiled finally. Pain, memories, insecurities, and ‘others’, had no place in this moment. “I’m fine now. Let’s go.”

  They started walking. “Now you’ve got me thinking about ‘fantasies’,” whined Todd. “I’m going to come up with a bunch of others now… Starring Miss Eliza Keating and yours truly, of course.” He squeezed her hand and drew her closer. “Just so you know, I am feeling like one very, very lucky man.”

  Eliza’s heart felt warm and full as they exited the stables and made their way back to the viewing area.

  “Are you hungry?” said Todd.

  “A little.”

  “We can grab a bite here if you like.”

  “Okay, but nothing fancy. I have manure on my boot, hay in my hair, and teeth marks on my hat. I am not groomed for the social scene.”

  “I am delighted to be responsible for your dishevelment. Well, Dante and I. He gets some of the credit.”

  Crossing through the viewing area, Eliza noticed there were more people watching the race now than earlier. Thankfully, the Elliots weren’t anywhere to be seen.

  They headed toward The Brasserie in the Premier Enclosure. Todd chose a small table near a window overlooking the track and ordered sandwiches. Plus wine. He insisted.

  “Since don’t have to drive ourselves back to the city,” he reasoned.

  They sat close together, and while Todd glanced at the horses now and then, his attention was primarily focused on Eliza. She was becoming more and more enamored by this unusually passionate and undeniably gorgeous man.

  “What?” he said when he caught her staring at him. “Do I have mayonnaise on my chin?” He swiped his chin with the back of his hand.

  “No, no,” she laughed.

  “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you? If I had muck on my face?”

  “I’d lean over and lick it off.” She winked and rubbed her knee against his. “Any chance to run my tongue along your skin…” She locked eyes with him and licked her lips slowly before taking another bite of sandwich.

  He shuddered slightly and grabbed her knee, letting his fingers caress her thigh until she had to pull her knees together and shift away from him.

  “Todd, not here.”

  “You can unhinge me in a moment, Miss Keating, and it seems I might have the same affect on you.”

  “I’ll never admit it,” she said teasingly.

  He took one hand from her sandwich and guided it under the table to his groin. She felt the bulge. Already? She was grateful for the white tablecloth falling near to the floor and the solid arms of the chairs they were sitting in. Even if nearby patrons might suspect where her hand was, no hand, or lap, could be seen directly.

  He pressed her hand into him, and an instant surge of wetness pooled between her legs. Her body’s immediate reaction surprised her. Her eyes half closed involuntarily and her breath became shallow. She felt her cheeks flush. She really had no control around him. Her sandwich had fallen haphazardly to her plate and she reached for a sip of wine to try to regain her composure. Todd kept her hand pinned to his erection.

  He leaned over to whisper to her. “You see what you do to me? All it takes is a look, or the teasing charm of your voice.”

  His other hand was hidden under the table. A moment later, she felt it on her knee again. He had twisted toward her more and she now had better grip on the length under his zipper, a grip his own hand forced her to keep. She both admired and feared his lack of embarrassment to show his affection in public. He was decidedly un-British in this regard.

  Her breath caught in her throat when his fingers didn’t stop at her knee but slid deftly under her skirt. Again.

  “You are insatiable.”

  “Oh, yes,” he murmured. “Like a man crossing the desert who’s just found his oasis.”

  She tried to keep her thighs pressed together, but he knew his way around there and was able to dip into Y intersection created by her pressed thighs and pussy. Her wetness was spreading and his finger slipped easily into the crevasse she was half-heartedly trying to protect.

  “You see? You are just as powerless under my gaze, my touch.”

  She had no words. She just nodded.

  A waiter came by to refill their water glasses. Eliza couldn’t tell if he noticed anything as she was entranced by Todd’s whispers and his blue eyes boring into hers. The waiter left them to their ‘intense conversation’, disappearing as quietly as he had appeared.

  Todd’s lips grazed hers and she tilted her head toward him. He pulled back a fraction, teasing her.

  “Admit it,” he growled under his breath. The soft tip of his middle finger hooked and slid into her pussy. She drew on all her self-control to not moan, to not let her eyes close and roll back in her head.

  “I admit you have some power over me,” she said with staggered breath. “But I don’t think I’m powerless.”

  His eyes softened and his lips arched into a smile. “Yes. I believe you are right in that.” His finger flickered inside her. “And here is the heart of your power.” The hand he held against his cock let go. She left it where it lay as he brushed his free hand against her heart. “And here.” And then he gently touched her temple.

  “And here.”

  His fingers tipped her chin up slightly and he kissed her on the lips. A warm soft kiss full of love and reassurance. The middle finger of his other hand was still half inside her. When he pulled back again to stare at her, again with loving reassurance, Eliza was momentarily blinded by a flash of light. She blinked. Todd withdrew his finger and his gaze. Over the table, he yelled,

  “Who let you in here?! Get out!”

  Eliza turned to see a photographer in retreat.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Forget it.” He took a swig of wine. “Let’s get out of here.” Todd threw some notes on the table.

  Eliza was still in a kind of dopey trance. She took a sip of water and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. When she stood, she pulled her tunic sweater down over her skirt. The other people in the restaurant were staring at her. No, they were staring at the two of them as they wove through the tables toward the door.

  “Was that a reporter?” said Eliza once they were walking down the hall. Todd was on his phone calling Albert, the driver. As soon as he hung up he said,

  “That’s my guess. But let’s not worry about it now. The guy must be desperate for a story.”

  Eliza wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘desperate’.r />
  Albert was waiting out front. He opened the back door and Eliza slipped in. Todd followed her.

  “I’m nobody in the social scene,” said Todd doing up his seat belt. “That reporter probably thought I was someone else. I’ve been mistaken for my cousin Tatum before.”

  “If he caught us kissing and thought you were Tatum, that would be awful for Tatum's wife Tori. Except it wouldn’t be true.”

  “Which is why it would never get printed.”

  “Since when do reporters like that print the truth?”

  “Since they can all be sued for libel. That’s why I told you not to worry.”

  “You sound like you know something about all this. Have you been a similar situation before?”

  “Eliza, in my books this has been a great day. A fantastic day.” He smiled and slipped his arm over her shoulder. “Who cares about a stupid picture that will never be seen?”

  He was right. Eliza had told herself she was going to enjoy this ride, allow herself the pleasure of romance, lust, and the devoted attention of this gorgeous unpredictable man. In their own private world of two everything was perfect. And fiery hot. Worries dampened fires. Flames fueled the heat of passion. Eliza leaned into his strong embrace and allowed herself to forget her questions and just relax.

  They agreed to meet for dinner the next evening. Eliza had a whole day of work to catch up on. But when the afternoon rolled around, Todd phoned to cancel.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ve got to get back to Devon for foaling. It looks like my dam Jezebel is going to deliver early. I’ll be back in a few days. A week at the most.”

  Eliza hid her disappointment as best she could. She could throw herself into her work—she’d better, she had new contracts and long standing ones to fill now that spring was making its appearance in London.

  “Let me know when you’re back. No, call me the day before,” she said. “I will be aching with anticipation.”

  Todd sighed into the phone. “I have never in my life wanted to miss a foal’s birth until this moment.”

  “Don’t you dare,” said Eliza, though she was secretly very flattered that he was tempted to drop everything for her.

  “This is your life, your work, what you love. I’ll be here when you get back. I promise. I will be wet with relief to see you again.” She couldn’t help teasing him.

  He growled through the receiver. “Miss Keating, play fair.”

  “Fantasize about me,” she whispered. “Just like you showed me in the stables.”

  “Just like that?...” he whispered back.

  “Exactly like that…”

  “These are going to be the longest days of my life,” he said.

  “Mine, too” said Eliza.

  She worked obsessively on freeform hat blocking to keep her mind off of Todd.

  At the end of the day, Carmen poked her head into the back room. “Do you need any help?”

  The look on Carmen’s face told Eliza that she ought to say no. It had already been a long day. “Go home to your hubby. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Thanks.”

  As soon as Carmen had gone, Eliza’s mobile rang. She took the pins out of her mouth and answered.

  “I bet you’re ready for a martini,” said Stella.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been a long day. I’ve got a ton of work to do tomorrow.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line.

  “Stella, are you still there?”

  “Yeah. Um… I guess you didn’t see it?”

  “See what?”

  “Oh boy. I’m on my way over.”

  Stella hung up before Eliza could interrogate her about her strange tone of voice.

  Thirty minutes later, Stella arrived at the flat with a bottle of merlot and a copy of the Daily Mirror.

  “Page three,” she said as she twisted the corkscrew into the cork.

  On page three Eliza saw a photo of herself kissing Todd at the table at The Brasserie. Her hat was askew, her cheeks were flushed, splotchy even, and she remembered suddenly what had been going on under the table.

  “If I didn’t know you better I’d swear that’s a piece of hay behind your ear,” said Stella.

  “This is awful.” Eliza glanced at the article below the unflattering photo while holding out her hand for a desperately needed glass of wine. The wine-filled sphere was delivered to her palm and she took a gulp.

  Horse King Claims Hat Hottie

  Sir Todd Montgomery, notorious society rebel, locks lips with rags to riches hat designer Eliza Keating.

  Who is this up and coming designer throwing herself at one of Britain’s most eligible bachelors? Born in Sheffield to an absent debt-ridden father and neglectful downtrodden mother, Eliza Keating, once known to her friends as Busy Lizzie, climbed out of poverty and obscurity to attend the London College of Fashion and start her own business. Candied Locks is the go-to boutique for London socialites ever since Monarch heiress, Victoria Montgomery, née Manning, stepped across Miss Keating’s threshold and drew her into society’s limelight.

  There’s no denying Miss Keating has a talent as a top milliner, but does she have what it takes to keep the wild Montgomery stallion in line? Others before her haven’t managed to break Sir Todd’s untamed spirit. Now that this Piccadilly Princess has thrown her hat in the ring, will she end up eating it?

  Eliza was mortified. They had gone digging into her past, said those things about her parents. It was ghastly.

  “It will be forgotten about in a day or two,” consoled Stella. “And you know what they say, any press is good for business.”

  “I’ll lose clients after this!”

  “Maybe a few. But you’ll bring in two or three times more.”

  “Tori said one of her friends said they know one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting and she said my name came up in reference to dressing for the Ascot. I can’t believe this timing!”

  “Look, the important thing is that you and Todd are an item. You care about each other. Focus on that.”

  Eliza snapped the paper at Stella. “What about this bit about ‘others before her’? What is that supposed to mean?”

  Stella shrugged. “How should I know? Ask Tori. But you shouldn’t care about his past any more than he should care about yours.”

  “How in hell did they find out about that stupid nickname? How do I explain that if he asks?”

  Stella shrugged again and looked away.

  Eliza watched her, a realization dawning on her. “You didn’t tell them, did you? Did they call you?”

  Stella looked guilty, then distraught, then defensive. “The reporter called me but I wouldn’t tell him anything.” She bit her lip. “I only confirmed we were at design school together. I didn’t think there was any harm in that. And I told him you were an amazing designer. An amazing person. He must have done some digging on his own.”

  Eliza scrutinized Stella’s features. Her guilt had not completely evaporated after her relatively harmless confession.

  “But you do have idea who might have told him? Is that what you’re afraid to tell me?”

  “It’s only a guess, but I’d bet it was Annabelle.”

  Annabelle Harrison had not been accepted to the London College of Fashion. Stella hadn’t helped her like she’d helped Eliza, who had been far too ‘busy’ to really deserve Stella’s help. Annabelle had been jealous of both of them ever since.

  “Bloody hell,” said Eliza. “I’m just going to have to put this out of my mind.” She had decided long ago she wasn’t going to let her past haunt her.

  Later than night, Eliza tried calling Todd but only received a text in return.

  In the barn with Jez. Problematic. Call u later.

  But he didn’t call. He didn’t call for days. By then, the story about him and Eliza and had begun to fade. The gossip had caused a few clients to cancel commissions, but overall Eliza’s business did pick up, just as Stella had predicted. While Carmen took on t
he nosiest of customers, Eliza worked steadily in the studio. The busy season was upon them so Eliza focused all her attention on her work. Todd wasn’t around to distract her, but she missed him, even more than she thought she would. She told herself he was busy with his work, too, and that he'd call eventually.

  It wasn’t until the beginning of the next week that Eliza, Stella and Tori had a chance to meet for martinis.

  Tori and Eliza ordered their drinks without waiting for Stella, who sent a text to say she’d be a little late.

  When Eliza had gotten the update from Tori about her ‘discussions’ with Tatum regarding when they might get around to having children—Tori was ready but Tatum liked their life as it was, in fact, Tori hinted that Tatum wanted to spice it up, whatever that meant—Eliza tried to direct their conversation to other members of the Montgomery clan.

  “Todd’s still in Devon," said Tori. "Negotiating the purchase of some stud stallion I think, but I guess you knew that.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” Eliza nodded and sipped her drink. She knew he was still busy but she didn’t know specifically with what.

  “You two still a thing?” said Tori.

  Eliza shrugged. “I guess so. We were last week but he kind of dashed off and he hasn’t been back. I don’t really know what we are.”

  “I wonder if he’s built like Tatum…” Tori raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Shall we compare notes?”

  Eliza laughed. “You still retain your virginal curiosity, my friend. Men are all the same and each different, at the same time.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “It’s a generalization, of course, but basically it is true."

  Tori fake-pouted. “You’re lucky you got to sew your wild oats.”

  “Oats are overrated. So is sewing. You are a happily married woman. Revel in it.”

  “You seem to be a happily single woman, and you are reveling in it.” Tori raised her glass to Eliza. They clinked and drank.

  “Todd did say he’d once been mistaken for Tatum,” said Eliza.

  “They do have similar features and mannerisms. Is Todd a good lover?”