by A. C. Arthur
“It’s nice down here,” Max said as they neared the stairs. “But the suite upstairs is where the designers really shined.”
They started upstairs.
“Where’s your girlfriend? I thought you said you called her when I went to the restroom and she’d be here.”
“She’s on the way, probably got held up by a last-minute phone call or two. But she’s excited to meet you. She’ll be here. Don’t worry.”
They went upstairs. The rooms were everything and more than Max had described.
“This makes me want to buy a place in New York. The designer you hired earned her paycheck.”
“A million and a half dollars later, she should have.”
After they toured the rest of the second floor, Max wanted them to go to the roof.
London looked at her watch. “I really need to get back to Midtown. Traffic is crazy this time of day. It can take me an hour, easy.”
“Just five minutes. Let’s go upstairs.”
London looked at the short flight of stairs that led to a slanted door. A feeling that she couldn’t explain came over her. She’d had an enjoyable afternoon with Max and was glad they could be friendly. But it was time to go.
“Next time, okay? I’m going to leave.”
She turned and went down two steps before an iron grip halted her progress. She almost lost her balance and slammed into the wall.
“Max? What are you doing? Let go of my arm!”
“I’ll let go of your arm,” he said calmly, a blank look in his eyes. “But you’re not going anywhere.”
London’s heart jumped into her throat. Belatedly she realized her purse was on the table in the foyer downstairs. Her cell phone was in it. The fun-loving man with whom she’d shared the last two hours was gone. In his place was someone she’d never seen before. A stranger. A madman. There was no overpowering him. Max wasn’t that tall, but he worked out regularly. She couldn’t beat him up, so she’d have to try to outsmart him.
“Let’s go in the bedroom.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Let’s go. I’ve been wanting to try out the bed in there.”
London swallowed her fear and forced a carefree laugh. “Is that what this is about? You want to have sex? You know how good we are together. If you wanted some, all you had to do was ask.”
She watched Max’s eyes as he processed her statement, half wanting him to believe her, half hoping he wouldn’t. There was no way she was going to let this man force himself on her.
One step at a time, London. Keep him calm.
She walked past him up the stairs. “Come on. Which bedroom?”
Max continued to eye her warily. “Let’s go downstairs first. I want a drink.”
Thank You, God. “Oh, I know. Some champagne for a tongue bath, or maybe some belly shots? Okay, player. Let’s go!”
She wanted to full-out sprint in five-inch stilettos but forced herself to take each step slowly, swaying her hips on each stair. They reached the bottom. Max grabbed her, pushed her against the wall and kissed her. Her natural instinct was to resist, but she relaxed her body, slid her arms around his neck and...jabbed her knee into his private parts as hard as she could.
“Aw!”
London grabbed her purse, headed for the door and pulled. Locked. She turned every knob. The door still wouldn’t budge.
Max lay sprawled half on the bottom step, half on the floor. Still in pain he managed to eke out, “This what you’re looking for?”
Yes, London thought as she looked at the key dangling from a chain around his neck. It was exactly what she needed.
“There’s no way out of here, London. Once I get my strength back, you’re going to wish you hadn’t kneed me.”
“Max, this isn’t going to end well. Let me go.”
“Unlike what happened in Milan, it’s going to end exactly as I want.”
Her eyes widened then narrowed. “It was you.”
“I had the perfect date planned, better than any romance. But then I got word that people were looking for you, combing the mall, interrogating the hotel staff. I had to get you back there. Your parents coming to town put a crimp in my plans.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“That’s a rather dramatic way to look at it. You’d taunted me for months, giving the impression you’d get back with me. I let you lead for a while and then decided to take control. As a director, it’s what I do best.”
“Ace thought it was you. I should have believed him.”
“I’ve got a plan for him, too,” Max spat out as he struggled to his knees. “But tonight belongs to us.”
London took off through the house, looking for a way out. A door, a window—either would do. All she found was a set of double doors and a back door. Both were locked. She swallowed her panic, forced herself to think.
My phone. I’ve got to get to it before Max gets up.
There was only one problem with this plan. Max had recovered and found her. His hand was now around her neck.
“Max. Stop.”
He jerked her arm behind her and started walking toward the stairs. When they got halfway up, the doorbell rang.
His girlfriend!
“Max, unlock the door for your girlfriend. You don’t want her to see us like this.”
“There’s no girlfriend. Whoever that is will go away. Now come on!”
London knew that whoever was at that door was her lifeline. She wasn’t going up the stairway. One way or another, either walking, crawling or falling, they were going back down.
The doorbell rang again, followed by insistent knocking.
Max growled. “Let me get rid of whoever this is. Try anything, and you’ll regret it.”
He looked out of the door pane to see a pretty woman in a uniform at his door.
“Yeah, who are you!”
“Special delivery,” the pretty woman replied.
“From who?”
“A, um, Ms. Tanner, sir. It requires a signature.”
London watched Max relax. Carly Tanner, her assistant? Later she would learn that Carly was the woman who’d helped him know London’s every move. She’d helped him in Milan. After her stint with OTB ended, he’d hired her as an assistant of sorts. Someone to help with matters that had to stay private. Matters to which Maxwell Tata could not be linked. Like renting a house on New York’s Upper East Side. London would learn all of this later. All she knew right now was relief as she watched Max crack open the door.
An unlocked door was all Ace needed. He reached past Frida, pushed open the door and did what he’d longed to...introduce his fist to Maxwell’s face.
Chapter 29
By the time December and the Her for the Holidays show rolled around, New York City and Maxwell Tata’s abduction were a painful but distant memory. London owed her life to Ace. Everything he’d suspected was true. While Carly denied any involvement in the gift sending or kidnapping, she couldn’t deny that she knew Max.
London now knew what Ace had believed from the beginning—Maxwell Tata was a very dangerous man. Had Ace not outfitted her phone with a special, high-level tracking system shortly after they’d returned from Europe, a fact that in her terror London had completely forgotten, there was no way he would have found her in the city that never slept. London pressed charges. Max pleaded no contest to unlawful imprisonment. He paid a hefty fine but because of a high-powered attorney with major connections, he didn’t spend one night in jail. The best thing that came out of the horrible incident was the $5 million punitive damage judgment that funded the assault-awareness campaign that she, Charli and a couple cousins who’d also been abused oversaw. She was now not only the face of OTB Her, but the representative of millions of sexually assaulted victims who
remained silent. She was their face and their voice.
“Hey, baby.”
Ace came up and wrapped his arms around her. They were just behind a sheer curtain in a tent that had been constructed around Drake Lake, which had been transformed into a winter wonderland. An industrious engineering firm had used thick slabs of Plexiglas, steel beams and concrete blocks to bring to life the frozen lake that Ace had imagined when planning the show. In keeping with the signature moves for which OTB Her was now famous, this man-made lake was part of the show’s finale.
She turned, straightening the lapels of his OTB tux. “Did anyone ever tell you that you could be a model? You’re really handsome. It’s a career you should consider.”
He squeezed her tighter. “No, I kind of like my position behind the scenes. I’m in love with a beautiful woman who happens to be a model herself. I like to help her career. She shines brighter in the spotlight then I ever could.”
London looked over her shoulder. Her heart swelled at the scene behind her. Eight of the finest men in not just Paradise Cove but the world walked toward her, all wearing OTB: Julian, Terrell, Warren, Reginald, Niko, Ike Jr., Ike Sr. and Teresa’s husband, Atka Sinclair.
“Look, baby, our escorts!”
Ace turned and nodded slowly. “Look at the Drake men representing.”
“And a Sinclair,” London said.
Atka shook his head. “Naw, I’m an honorary Drake tonight.”
Frida walked over. “We need you guys backstage to help line up the models. The show starts in ten.”
Ace looked at the group. “All right, fellas. I’ll spare you the backstage zoo and line you guys up just outside the door. As a model comes out, you’ll offer her your arm and basically follow her lead. She’ll walk to the middle of the runway, pose, to the end, pose and come back.”
Ike Sr. looked worried. “Ace, I think we should have rehearsed this.”
London walked up to her father, their relationship better than ever. “Just walk when they walk, stop when they stop and leave the stage with them. You’ll be fine.” She kissed his cheek. “I never thought I’d say this, Dad, but... See you on the runway!”
London peeked around a curtain as her mom addressed the crowd. There’d been no plan to stop and listen but hearing the woman who’d named her Clarisse call her by the name she’d chosen stopped her cold.
“Good evening. Most if not all of you know about my daughter London. You’ve seen her in magazines, on television and online. She was born and for a while raised right here in Paradise Cove. She’s our golden child, with an it factor for as far back as I can remember. She was rambunctious, curious, fearless. Not much has changed. During her teen years, Ike and I sent her to a boarding school, to instill discipline, and smooth her rough edges.” Ripples of laughter rolled across the audience. “But what does she do? One-up us by becoming an international supermodel.” The audience applauded. “That’s our golden child. We couldn’t be more proud.”
Tears stained London’s makeup as she rushed to get into position for the first look.
“And with that, ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to sit back and enjoy Her for the Holidays!”
The fashions were bold, innovative, transformative. Jewel-tone sweaters, slacks and dresses. Double-breasted pantsuits, faux-fur skirts underlaid with crinoline, chaps-inspired gaucho pants with thigh-high cowboy boots. Twenty looks, each more amazing than the last. The applause was continuous. Each look was bid on silently. Sales were through the roof.
London shimmied into the showstopping finale, then stood waiting for her cue. When it came, instead of walking down the runway she came toward the audience from the other side of the lake, ice-skating effortlessly on the rink the engineers had configured in a skintight red leather dress with a wide skirt and train. A lone spotlight directed her path. A murmur began as she neared the crowd, developing into an all-out crescendo by the time she reached them. She glided from one side to the other, twirled and spun to show off the dress. The crowd continued to cheer, then began standing. She knew the ending they’d planned was fantastic, but this reaction was almost too much. She spun around, and to her surprise noticed the crowd’s attention was not on her but on another lone skater coming her way. A man in an OTB tux, carrying a single rose.
This hadn’t been rehearsed.
Ace neared her, and London’s heart nearly beat out of her chest. An expert skater, he too delighted the audience with spins and turns. He came directly at her. She instinctually braced herself for being swept up and around. There was a five-minute fireworks display planned before they were to skate back up for a final bow. He reached for her hand. Together they floated on the ice. The crowd went wild.
She chided him while wearing a smile. “You could have warned me.”
“I learned a long time ago that warning you doesn’t work.” He smiled, took her hand and glided toward where Jennifer stood, cordless microphone in hand, to close the show.
“Ace! What are you doing?”
“You’ll know in a minute.”
He reached the lake’s edge, where the Plexiglas covering jutted onto the grass, hidden beneath fake snow.
Jennifer, obviously confused, held up a finger to the crowd and hurried over.
“Wasn’t that the finale?” she whispered. “It was fantastic.”
“Almost,” Ace replied. He nodded toward the microphone she held. “May I?”
“Of course! Not having you speak was a complete oversight.”
She turned to the crowd. “It gives me immense pleasure to formally introduce the wonderful designer of this trendsetting line. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a grand Paradise Cove welcome to Ace Montgomery.”
As one, the crowd broke out in wild applause. The clapping slowly subsided. Jennifer gave Ace the mic.
“You guys are amazing,” he began. “Mrs. Drake, thank you for allowing me the honor of dressing the beautiful women of Paradise Cove while supporting a worthy cause. And for this generous, enthusiastic crowd. Thank you.”
He waited as once again the audience showed their immense appreciation.
“The launch of this line, OTB Her, was successful because of the innovative and inspired designs of a creative and talented fashion team. But they are only part of the reason. The other reason women all over the world are clamoring for these garments is the woman standing beside me and the carefree, confident spirit she exudes every time she walks the runway. One of your own, Paradise Cove... London Drake!”
His public admission of her part in OTB Her’s success was totally unexpected and warmed London’s heart. That and the applause, yells and whistles from the crowd of mostly Paradise Cove residents acknowledging one of their own. Because of her time away from the town, she’d never really felt a connection. Tonight, for the first time, Paradise Cove truly felt like home.
Ace extended the microphone toward her.
“Thank you, everybody, especially my mom, dad and all of my brothers and sisters. Having all of you take a walk in my world is something I will never forget. This night has been amazing.”
“One last thing,” Ace began as the applause died down. “Something else was launched during the unveiling of OTB Her.” He stopped, looking at London.
“A love affair.”
London’s eyes widened. Since the kidnapping, they’d made no effort to hide the fact that they were dating. But they hadn’t broadcast it, either. She stood enraptured by his gaze, touched by the love she saw there. She barely heard the murmuring audience, was only vaguely aware that her sister, Teresa, snapped a series of pictures and through her popular blog would be the first to report this breaking news.
“We met years ago,” Ace finally continued. “It was a brief encounter after which we went our separate ways. I let her get away that time. When fate brought us together again, I remembered o
ne of the many lessons my mom, a schoolteacher, taught me—don’t make the same mistake twice.”
He turned to London. “You’ve walked from the runway right into my heart. I want to keep you here forever.” Whistles and applause erupted as Ace pulled out a box and knelt on one knee. He popped open the box and revealed a five-carat yellow diamond ring.
“Clarisse Alana London Drake...will you marry me?”
London looked into the face of the love of her life and answered the same as when he’d asked her to be the face of OTB Her. “I’ll think about it.”
Jaws dropped. The crowd buzzed. A mixture of surprise and disappointment peeked through the mask Ace now wore.
“Okay, thought about it,” she continued after only seconds had passed. “Get up, Ace Montgomery. My answer is yes!”
The smile on his face could have lit up the world. He stood, took London in his arms and swirled them around and around. One again the audience clapped and cheered. Cameras flashes went off in every direction. Ace handed a stunned yet pleased Jennifer the microphone and reached for London’s hand. They waved a final goodbye and skated behind the stage to the ramp that led to the makeshift dressing room.
Their job was done. London felt complete. She’d contributed to the Drakes’ good name and brand. Her for the Holidays had been a rousing success. Because she’d just said yes to her man, Ace Montgomery was going to be hers forever, along with a lifetime of lavish loving. The show had been perfect, but what an encore!
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from TO MARRY A PRINCE by A.C. Arthur.
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