Knight Takes Queen (6 page)

Dominic had dinner served in his library rather than in the cavernous dining room at Eaton Place.

‘You have to eat something, Katherine,’ he gently said, pushing away his appetizer of prawns and noodles, a faint frown creasing his brow. ‘Would you like me to feed you?’

She sat up in her chair, took a deep breath. ‘Sorry, I’m really lazy.’

‘You should be resting.’ Rising from his chair, he walked around the small table set near the windows overlooking the garden, and lifted Katherine from her chair, settling her down with her in his lap. ‘If you don’t like prawns, try the lasagna. I had Nana send her recipe.’

Her eyes flared wide. ‘You called her?’

‘We didn’t talk long. I just wanted to know how to make it. You told me it’s your favourite.’

‘You didn’t mention the baby, did you?’

Reaching for the lasagna, he half turned to meet her
gaze. ‘Why would I do that?’ He drew the dish closer. ‘Tell her when you’re ready.’

Kate exhaled.

He smiled, spooned out a portion onto a plate. ‘You know as far as Nana’s concerned, you can do no wrong.’

‘Still … small-town gossip being what it is.’

‘As if Nana gives a shit about gossip. Come on, baby, relax. See if Quinn did justice to Nana’s recipe. Whenever you tell her about the baby, she’s going to be pleased.’ He picked up a fork, and scooped up some pasta. ‘Open up now. There you go. What do you think?’

‘Hmmfff,’ she said, chewing and smiling.

‘It
is
good. I had some in the kitchen.’

Dominic fed Kate the lasagna then he coaxed her into eating half a bowl of peaches and cream. And when she finally shook her head, no, he said, ‘Thanks, baby. You did well. Don’t forget you’re eating for two now. You have to make some adjustments to your pizza and candy-bar menu.’ He smiled ‘I’m amazed you’re so healthy.’

‘We don’t all have chefs.’

‘You do now. So get with the programme.’

She grinned. ‘And if I don’t?’

‘Maybe we’ll have to put up a chart and give you stickers when you eat right.’

‘Or you could give me orgasms when I eat right.’

He laughed. ‘Even better. There’s a win/win.’

She reached up and slid her finger over his bottom lip. ‘Like maybe now? I haven’t seen you all day …’

He dragged in a breath. ‘The wedding planner will be here any minute.’

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up and whispered, ‘Can’t she wait? It won’t take long.’

He sighed. ‘Don’t do this, baby.’ Easing one of her hands from around his neck, he turned it, kissed her palm, then folded her fingers and held them lightly.’ If you give Mrs Hastings ten minutes, I’ll give you whatever you want the rest of the night.’ He smiled. ‘That’s a good deal.’

She groaned, slowly undraped her other arm from his neck and sat back. ‘OK, but I need a kiss at least.’

He dropped her hand. ‘Just a kiss. That’s it.’

‘Don’t you trust me?’ She looked up at him with wide-eyed innocence that couldn’t have been improved upon by rosy-cheeked cherubs.

He smiled. ‘Not when you look at me like that.’ Dipping his head, he kissed her like you’d kiss an elderly aunt – no hands, on the cheek, short and sweet. Then he swept her from his lap, set her on her feet, and rose from the chair. ‘Come on, baby,’ he cajoled, brushing his fingertips down her arm. ‘Don’t pout. Ten minutes and I’m yours.’

‘I’m grumpy, tired, and feeling really, really horny,’ she muttered. ‘So I’ll pout if I want.’

Good thing he’d already warned Mrs Hastings that Katherine might be moody. ‘Maybe we can make it less than ten minutes,’ he said, sliding his fingers through hers. ‘You just have to OK a few things with the wedding planner. Then look at some bridal gown drawings so the designer can get started.’

‘Or you could pick out the gown while I’m talking to the wedding planner. That would hurry things along.’ She suddenly smiled. ‘I won’t embarrass you. I promise.’

‘No way you can embarrass me, baby. Never. I just want to get this train out of the station.’

‘You’re way too nice.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Thanks.’

‘It’s easy to be nice to you.’ He drew her close. ‘You’re my world.’

‘Oh God, I’m going to cry again.’

‘Hey, hey, it’s good.’ He dropped a kiss on the bridge of her nose. ‘Nothing to cry about.’ He smiled. ‘You don’t have time anyway.’

She sucked in a breath, sniffed, exhaled. ‘So changing the subject to something less tear-worthy … will the designer be shocked when you ask for an adjustable waistline?’

‘Nah. They’re paid not to be shocked.’

‘Something simple then. No train, no veil, nothing I can trip over.’

‘We’ll check it out together. Fast.’

She feigned surprise. ‘Really. I get a vote?’

‘Within a narrow range, baby. I don’t want my bride showing up in those damn army green slacks and a white blouse.’

‘They don’t fit anymore.’

‘Good.’ Releasing Kate’s hand, he buttoned his shirt collar, snugged up the knot on his loosened tie, fastened the buttons on his suit jacket, then took her hand again and smiled. ‘Let’s do this.’

*

In a corner of the large, Adam Brothers-style drawing room, two women were seated side by side on one of a pair of facing sofas upholstered in blue striped silk. Since Belgravia hadn’t been developed until the second half of the nineteenth century, the house hadn’t been designed by the Adam brothers. But it was faithful to their neoclassic model: from the sky blue curved walls to the Grecian pilasters, painted ceiling medallions, and pastel carpet – the décor, one of elegant lightness, hallmark of an Adam’s interior.

Martin was arranging a large silver tray with a tea service on a table between the sofas when Dominic and Kate entered the room.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Dominic said as they approached the women. ‘I apologize for the late hour. We won’t take too much of your time.’ He introduced Katherine to Mrs Hastings, and she in turn introduced the young woman seated beside her. Martin poured tea and sherry for the women, tea for Kate and a whisky for Dominic, before serving colourful, frosted tea cakes to everyone. That accomplished he quietly withdrew.

‘Since it’s after hours, if we might get right down to business,’ Mrs Hastings said briskly the moment the door closed on Martin, signalling her dislike of evening appointments. ‘I have found a small chapel nearby.’ She looked at Dominic, one hand at her throat in a calculated gesture, her three-strand pearl necklace a badge of class. ‘They had various hours available so I reserved them all. For the next month, you said.’

Dominic turned to Kate. ‘I thought someplace close would easier. Is that all right with you?’ He glanced at her plate. ‘Martin didn’t give you any of the chocolate cakes. I had them made for you.’

‘I’m fine,’ Kate said, blushing.

‘You sure?’ They might have been alone for all the notice he gave their guests. He smiled and his voice softened. ‘There’s truffle filling in them.’

‘Please, Dominic.’ Her voice trembled. Dominic might be indifferent to their audience, but she was fully aware of the starchy wedding planner’s shocked expression.

He finally became aware of Kate’s unease. ‘Maybe later,’ he casually said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. ‘So do we have your approval on the chapel?’

‘You decide. Really,’ Kate murmured, her cheeks bright red, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere else but here. ‘None of this matters to me. We could get married in a closet in our underwear for all I care.’ She wasn’t big on ceremony.

‘In that case, my only concern is privacy, Mrs Hastings.’ Dominic turned his bland gaze on the slender, grey-haired woman with pursed lips sitting ramrod straight opposite them. ‘No reporters, no paparazzi.’

‘We’ll do our best, Mr Knight,’ Mrs Hastings said, swallowing her distaste for Dominic Knight’s casualness. Americans had no sense of decorum. He spoke affectionately to his fiancée as though she and Abigail were invisible. ‘With the reception here, as you stipulated,’ she added, forcing
a smile because Mr Knight was equally casual about her fees.

‘Yes. It would better ensure privacy. You can discuss the menu with my chef at your convenience. If Katherine has any requests we’ll let you know. Our wine cellar is adequate, I think, decorative details and flowers at the chapel and here are under your purview and anything else – licences, if we need any consular help, that sort of thing I’d like you to handle. As for a guest list, why don’t you plan for fifty and we—’

‘Fifty?’ Kate said in a tightly suppressed yell.

‘Or fewer,’ Dominic added with a smile for Kate. ‘You decide.’

‘I thought maybe just us.’

‘And Nana. And Melanie and her family.’ He dipped his head. ‘What about your roommate, Meg? She might like to come with one of her – er – friends. And Nana might want her bridge group here.’

‘Oh God, did she say that?’ Kate could see Jan Vogel’s pursed lips already.

‘No, but you have to at least consider it,’ Dominic quietly said. ‘The ladies have been playing bridge and sharing their lives for fifty years. Look, none of this has to be decided right now.’ He took Kate’s hand in his. ‘Does it?’ he said, looking to Mrs Hastings for confirmation.

The wedding planner knew what was required of her. ‘Not at all,’ she said, trying not to choke on her words. Did he think she was a magician, that a wedding just
happened
?

‘Good. Problem solved,’ Dominic pleasantly said. ‘Now why don’t we look at some dress designs?’

Mrs Hastings had supplied a long list of the designer’s important clients along with her bona fides. But regardless of her credentials, Abigail Strahan looked like an avantgarde art student. She had a wide pink streak in her sleek blonde hair, wore a short black T-shirt dress, black-and-white striped tights and high-heeled Victorian boots in purple leather.

Kate had immediately liked her and her warm open smile. ‘I need something loose,’ she said as Abigail placed a folder on the table between them.

‘We’re having a baby,’ Dominic interjected with a smile.

‘I saw that,’ Abigail said. ‘Congratulations.’

Mrs Hastings’ mouth pursed so tightly her lips went white. Kate didn’t notice because she was leaning forward as the designer spread out her watercolour drawings. Dominic noticed, but saw the wedding planner immediately moderate her expression to a more acceptable half smile.
Smart woman
. He didn’t care whether she approved or disapproved of his life so long as she carried out his orders; the most vital part being complete confidentiality. Prior to the ceremony, neither Gora, the Mafioso who’d threatened Katherine, his soon-to-be divorced wife’s greedy family, nor the world at large were to know of their plans.

Mrs Hastings appeared fully capable of discretion.

‘I like your dress.’ Abigail gestured at Kate’s embroidered tunic. ‘It’s perfect with your pale skin and coppery hair.’

‘Thanks. Dominic bought it. He’s the one with taste. I’m lucky.’

‘But you’re the one who makes the clothes look good. He’s the lucky one.’

‘No argument there,’ Dominic said, sliding his arm around Kate’s shoulder and leaning over to kiss her cheek. ‘I’m the luckiest man in the world.’

Kate blushed.

So he kissed her again, always captivated by her sweet naiveté. She was unique in his sophisticated world, a far cry from all the women he’d known, completely natural, fresh and artless, irrepressibly eager for sex. His constant wet dream. Shifting slightly to disguise his rising erection, he dropped his arm from Kate’s shoulder and quickly turned his attention to the discussion of wedding gowns.

‘This short swingy dress would be easy to wear.’ The designer pointed at a drawing of a crème silk dress, with a stand-up collar, small cap sleeves and a shirt-front neckline buttoned with three silk-covered buttons. ‘Or this chiffon would disguise your tummy.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ Dominic said. He turned to Kate. ‘Don’t worry about that. Once we’re married, the whole world can know for all I care.’

‘Maybe I don’t want the world to know just yet.’

He quickly raised his palms. ‘Forgive me, baby. It’s your call.’

The women ignored Mrs Hastings’ sniff.

Dominic looked at her, his brows creased. ‘Problem?’ he said.

‘No, no, I have … a little touch of … a cold,’ she stammered. Even for a woman who prided herself on her stout pluck and mettle, she found the chill in Dominic’s blue eyes alarming.

Calmly turning back to the drawings, Dominic pointed at a simple sleeveless, A-line design in ivory shantung. ‘I like this one. And it has a matching coat in case the weather doesn’t cooperate.’

‘I like the one with the collar,’ Kate said.

‘Then get it.’ He smiled at the young designer. ‘How soon can you have the dress finished? I don’t know if Mrs Hastings mentioned it, but the price is unimportant. So if you need to hire extra seamstresses, please do.’

‘I could have it finished in two or three days.’

‘Perfect.’ He smoothly rose from the sofa, held out his hand to Kate and pulled her to her feet.

‘I will need some measurements,’ Abigail said.

Kate groaned.

‘If we send this dress back with you,’ Dominic said, indicating Kate’s tunic. ‘Would that help?’

‘I’ll still need a final fitting.’

‘After that? How much time would you need to complete the dress?’

‘A day, no more.’

He dipped his head so his eyes were level with Kate’s. ‘One fitting, that’s not so bad. You can do that, right?’

‘After work if you don’t mind,’ Kate said, turning to the designer.

Dominic glanced at Abigail.

She nodded.

‘That’s settled then. We’ll send the dress down in a few minutes. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms Strahan. And as always, Mrs Hastings, you’ve been most helpful. Whatever questions either of you have can be addressed to Martin. He’ll arrange everything from this point on. I’ll send him in.’

‘Thank you,’ Kate said. ‘It was nice meeting you both. And I love your dress designs,’ She added with a smile for Abigail.

‘Maybe we could talk Ms Strahan into doing some maternity clothes for you.’ Dominic draped his arm over Kate’s shoulder. ‘We’re both novices in this department. Think about it at least,’ he said when Abigail hesitated. ‘Katherine thinks maternity clothes are gross. Perhaps you could change her mind.’