One Night with Prince Charming (11 page)

It didn't get any more passionate than this, Hawk thought. Lovemaking immediately after work, and they were so randy, they couldn't be bothered to eliminate more than the minimum of clothing.

He couldn't remember being this turned on since he'd been a teenager just discovering sex.

For her part, it was clear that Pia could hardly wait. She slid her hands up his arms in a light caress and arched her body toward him.

They both sighed as he slid inside her.

Hawk fought for control as he felt it slipping. Pia was still as tight as the time he'd taken her virginity.

He could, Hawk thought, lose himself in her again and again.

And in the next moment, he did.

He slid in and out of her, bringing them both mindless pleasure. Coherent thought shut down, and his focus narrowed down to one goal.

He felt Pia gasp and spasm around him with a small climax.

“That's right,” he urged hoarsely.

“Hawk, oh, p-please…”

She didn't have to beg. The moment she spoke, a mighty climax shook him. And, dimly but with satisfaction, he was aware of Pia claiming her own peak once again.

With a hoarse groan, he thrust into her one final time, and then slumped against her.

Afterward, they lay on her bed, spent and relaxed. As Pia lay tucked against his side, he caressed her arm.

Since she appeared completely content, he decided to press his advantage.

“Come fishing and riding with me,” he said without preamble.

Pia stilled and then stifled a sudden laugh. “You do know how to approach a woman at the right moment.” She paused. “Isn't that what we just did?”

He shook his head and responded drolly, “Not that kind.”

“Oh?”

“Come fishing and riding with me at Silderly Park in Oxford,” he said, naming his ancestral estate in England.

Pia tilted her head to glance up at him.

He knew what he was asking. This had nothing to do with Lucy's wedding anymore. By visiting Silderly Park, Pia would be coming into the heart of who he was as a duke.

He'd made the request unexpectedly, and only belatedly realized how much her answer mattered.

“Yes.”

Her answer came out as a breathy whisper before she lowered her head back down to his shoulder.

He smiled slowly, relaxing. “Good.”

Pia was his, and he was going to make sure things remained so.

“T
he wedding invitations will go out next week,” Pia remarked, her comment meant to reassure in case it was necessary.

It was Monday afternoon, and she and Lucy were sitting in the parlor of Hawk's Upper East Side town house. They were meeting over afternoon tea to discuss wedding details.

Most professional shows did not have performances on Monday nights, explaining why it was possible for Lucy to meet with Pia over tea today. Any other day of the week, Lucy might already have been preparing to head to work at this hour.

“Splendid,” Lucy said, smoothing her blond hair. “Derek will be happy to know that detail has been taken care of.”

It had been a pleasure to work with Hawk's sister, Pia reflected, trying not to dwell on when Hawk might be arriving home.

Lucy and Derek had wanted a relatively simple wedding
ceremony and reception, but one that nevertheless incorporated some nods to Lucy's English ancestry and theater work.

Everything so far had gone smoothly. During previous consultations, the couple had settled on a photographer, band and florist with a minimum of fuss. And today she and Lucy had already discussed wedding music, readings and various ceremony logistics.

“Now the florist has a website,” Pia continued, “which you should consult, but in order to give you more ideas, I have my own book of photos from weddings that I've been involved with.”

She slid a scrapbook across the coffee table toward Lucy, and Hawk's sister leaned forward and reached for it.

“I'll leave it with you so you can take your time going through it,” she added as Lucy opened the book. “You'll see that some brides like more elaborate floral arrangements, and others prefer a simpler concept. Next time we talk, let's discuss what you're looking for before we meet with the florist.”

Lucy nodded as she flipped through the scrapbook. “This is helpful.” She looked up. “You're so organized, Pia.”

“Thank you.”

Pia smiled to herself because wedding planners received few acknowledgments of their work. Many brides were too consumed by preparations for their big event to thank the paid help, at least until the wedding was over.

“The other item on our agenda that you should be thinking about now,” Pia went on crisply, “is the music that you'd like to be played at the reception.”

“Definitely Broadway show tunes,” Lucy said with a laugh. “Can I enter on the theme song from
Phantom of the Opera?
”

“You can do whatever you like,” Pia responded before a thought intruded that she decided to query about delicately. “Has your mother voiced any opinions?”

In her experience, weddings were fraught with family
negotiations, and often no one had more of an opinion than the mother of the bride. Pia had been called on to referee in more than one instance.

Lucy sighed at Pia's words and sat back, letting the book of photographs fall closed. “Mother means well, but she can be a bit of a dragon, unfortunately.”

Pia raised her eyebrows.

“But Hawk doesn't let her have complete free rein.” Lucy grinned suddenly. “Of course, it helps that the wedding is happening in New York, thousands of miles from Silderly Park and Mother's back lawn.”

In the past, Pia had studiously avoided probing Lucy for more information than she volunteered about her brother. But Lucy had just reminded her of who Pia's de facto employer was, and, as the current duke and head of the family, Hawk undoubtedly had some say in keeping his mother from overriding Lucy's wishes.

In any case, it was a revealing remark on Lucy's part about Carsdale family dynamics.

“Well, it was a deft maneuver to have the wedding here,” Pia conceded, “if your intention was to keep interference at a minimum.”

Lucy looked sly. “Thank you. It was Derek's idea.”

“Ah, right.” Pia's lips curved. “He also had the idea of a New Year's wedding, didn't he?”

“Brilliant, isn't it?”

“It's certainly an unorthodox choice.”

“I know.” Lucy laughed. “I'm sure Mother went absolutely wild. I can picture her pruning her garden with a vengeance after she found out.”

A picture popped into Pia's head from Lucy's description, though she'd never met Hawk's mother. She fought an involuntary smile.

“You do have a flair for the dramatic visual, Lucy,” she teased. “Anyone would think you should be on the stage.”

Lucy gave another laugh. “My first act of rebellion.”

“Your family objected?” Pia asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Lucy's eyes twinkled. “Of course! Mother is well aware that the only actresses in the family tree were all born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

Pia was tempted to ask flippantly whether any Carsdale ancestor had kept a wedding planner as a mistress, but she clamped her mouth shut. She wondered, though, how much Lucy knew or suspected about her relationship with Hawk, and what the other woman would say if she knew she was talking to a current lover of the present Duke of Hawkshire.

“Hawk was supportive of me, however,” Lucy went on, seemingly oblivious to Pia's reticence. “He's the reason I'm in New York, frankly.”

Pia gave a small smile. Lucy clearly thought the world of her brother.

“Speaking of Hawk,” Lucy said, “he mentioned you'll be in Oxford and visiting Silderly Park.”

Pia hesitated. Just what had Hawk said to Lucy? Did Lucy believe she simply had an incidental interest in touring Silderly Park while she was visiting England, if only because she was planning the wedding of the Duke of Hawkshire's sister?

She had been careful not to discuss Hawk with Lucy because, at first, she hadn't trusted herself to be less than withering in her opinion. And afterward, well, it had become problematic to speak about Hawk…

And, of course, now… Pia heated to think of all the things she
couldn't
bring up with Lucy about how she and Hawk passed the time.

She bit her lip. “Yes, I'm, um, planning to stay at Silderly Park for a few days to fish and ride.”

As the words left her mouth, Pia felt a flush crawl up her neck. Drat—would she ever be able to talk about fishing or riding again without blushing?

“Please say you'll stay in Oxford until the first of December then,” Lucy pleaded. “It would be so wonderful if you could attend the small engagement party that my mother insisted on hosting at Silderly Park.”

“I—”

Pia had never been invited as a guest to a client's wedding function.

“In fact, it would be so nice to have you there.”

Pia searched the younger woman's expression, but all she saw there was pure, unguarded appeal.

“I—” Pia cleared her throat and gave a helpless smile. “Okay.”

Lucy returned her smile with a grateful one of her own.

Pia wondered whether all the Carsdales were so adamantly persuasive.

Lucy either had no clue about the current state of affairs between her brother and her wedding planner, or, well, she was a very good actress.

In her gossip column, Mrs. Hollings had twice referenced her and Hawk—once right after Belinda's almost-wedding, and more recently, when she'd hinted at a warming of their relationship after Hawk had unexpectedly played her assistant. But Mrs. Hollings had stopped short of naming them as lovers.

And, what's more, Pia wasn't sure if Lucy even paid attention to Mrs. Hollings's column. True, the column included a fair amount of society gossip, but Lucy was immersed in the theater world rather than in the social whirl, and Mrs. Hollings's column focused on New York rather than Britain.

Pia pushed those thoughts aside. “Thank you for the invitation.”

Lucy laughed. “Don't be silly. I should be thanking you because you'll be putting up with my mother and my brother.”

Ah, yes.
Hawk.

If Lucy only knew, Pia thought.

Even though her acquaintance with Hawk three years ago had been fleeting—a one-night stand, if she looked at the matter unflinchingly—Pia recognized that he'd changed a lot. He was shouldering a lot more responsibility, and could claim a lot of success through his own hard work. He was also considerate. Look at how he'd tried to help her with her business—insisting on making amends. And she had intimate knowledge that he was a terrific lover.

Still, she couldn't help wondering how Hawk viewed their current sexual interlude. They'd never attempted to attach labels to it. Whatever was the case, though, she insisted to herself, this time she would no longer be the naive and vulnerable young thing.

Lucy regarded her closely. “If you don't mind my saying so, I couldn't help noticing that you and my brother had a testy interaction when you arrived here for our first meeting.”

Pia schooled her surprise—Hawk's sister had never brought up that first meeting in prior conversations.

Still, she couldn't deny the truth.

“We did,” Pia confessed. “I…didn't form a good opinion of him when I first met him a few years ago.”

Now that was a lie. She'd been so taken with him, she'd fallen into bed. It was after their romantic interlude had ended that her opinion of him had soured.

Lucy gave her a small smile. “I can understand why you might not have. I know my brother had his party years, though he never shared the details with me because I was so much younger.” She paused, looking at Pia more closely. “But that phase of his life all came to end three years ago.”

“Hawk told me,” Pia said with sympathy.

Still, Pia got the distinct impression that Lucy meant more than she was saying. Was she trying to persuade Pia that Hawk
wasn't so terrible anymore? And if so, why? Because she cared what her wedding planner thought of her brother?

Again, Pia wondered how much Lucy suspected, and what she would say if she knew Pia and Hawk knew each other intimately these days.

Lucy sighed. “I guess there's no going back, is there?” she asked rhetorically. “In any case, Hawk has taken over as head of the family remarkably well. And Sunhill Investments has reversed the state of the ducal finances in just a couple of years—it's remarkable.”

Pia fixed a smile. She was reminded of how Hawk had spent his time while he was apparently forgetting her, and an element of doubt intruded again. She was crazy to think she could somehow become remarkable herself—let alone unforgettable—to a man like him. He was a duke and a multimultimillionaire. She was a wedding planner from Pennsylvania.

She pushed back the heart-in-the-throat feeling and convinced herself again that she was prepared for the eventual end of their fling.

Lucy reached out a hand and touched her on the arm. “All I'm saying, Pia, is that Hawk isn't the person that he was even three years ago. You should give him a chance.”

Pia wondered what kind of chance Lucy thought she should be giving Hawk. Was she suggesting that Pia should like him enough to interact nicely with him…or more?

Pia opened and closed her mouth.

“All is forgiven,” she said finally for Lucy's benefit. “You needn't worry that Hawk and I are unable to get along.”

In fact, lately, they'd gotten along so well, they'd gotten into bed together.

“Good,” Lucy said with a smile, seemingly accepting her vague answer. “Because I know he likes you. He sang your praises when he suggested you to me as a wedding coordinator.”

Pia smiled uncertainly.

She wasn't sure upon what basis Hawk's sister was resting the observation that Hawk
liked
her, but she felt a flutter of happiness at the thought.

Her reaction was both wonderful
and
a cause for concern…

 

Pia walked beside Hawk in his impressive landscaped gardens.

Since arriving at Hawk's family estate near Oxford two days ago, she and Hawk had gone fishing and riding on his estate, as promised. She'd also been busy working long distance and taking in the many, many rooms that comprised Silderly Park.

She'd tried not to be overwhelmed by the medieval manor house itself. On a previous trip to Britain, she had toured nearby Blenheim Palace, the Duke of Marlborough's family seat. And she could say without a doubt that though Silderly Park didn't carry the identifier in its name, it was no less a palace.

Pia glanced momentarily at the windowed stories of Silderly Park as she and Hawk strolled along and he pointed out various plantings to her. They were both dressed in jackets for the nippy but nevertheless unseasonably warm November weather.

Hawk's principal residence had two wings, and its medieval core had been updated and added to over the centuries. The manor house boasted beautiful painted plaster ceilings, two rooms with magnificent oak paneling and a great hall that could seat 200 or 300 guests. The reception rooms displayed an impressive collection of eighteenth-and nineteenth-century artwork, from various artists, including Gainsborough and Sir Joshua Reynolds.

Even though the income was no longer necessary to him, Hawk had kept Silderly Park open to the public, so that the formal reception rooms could be visited by tourists.

Still, Pia couldn't help feeling as if
she
didn't belong here. Unlike Belinda and Tamara, she hadn't been born to wealth and social position. Maybe if she had, she would have recognized Hawk as more than a plain Mr. James Fielding on the first occasion she'd met him.

“The gardens were created in the late eighteenth century,” Hawk said, calling her back from her thoughts. “We use at least five or six different types of rose plantings in the section we're in now.”

Pia clasped her hands together in front of her. “This would be a wonderful place to consult for roses to use in weddings. Every bride is looking for something different and unique.”

“If you're interested, the gardener could tell you more,” Hawk said, sending her a sidelong look. “Or you could come back in the Spring.”