One Night with Prince Charming (13 page)

BOOK: One Night with Prince Charming
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She glanced down the hall. Someone could come at any time, interrupting and witnessing their argument. And he had to get back downstairs to the party. His absence would be noticed soon.

“Pia, you are the damnedest fe—”

“That's right I—I am,” she responded. “I happen to be cursed with rotten luck as far as men are concerned. So much for fairy tales!”

“If you'll just give me a chance—”

“That's the problem,” Pia tossed back. “I have.”

She turned and started down the hall. “I can't believe I was charmed a-and tricked by you again. How could I have let myself be such a fool?”

Hawk caught up with her and took hold of her arm again, forcing her to look up at him.

His face was set and implacable, and Pia got a glimpse of the part of him that had made a fortune in the span of a few short years.

“I did not trick you,” he grated.

A moment later, his lips came down on hers. The kiss packed all the potency of their past ones and then some.

She tasted the champagne on his lips, and inhaled the male scent of him. It was a combination heady enough to make her head swim, despite her anger.

Still, summoning an effort of will, she pulled away as soon as the kiss tapered off.

“You didn't trick me?” she inquired, repeating his words as he raised his head. “Perhaps not. I suppose I tricked myself. All you did was let me.”

Hawk looked at her, eyes glittering.

She read her own meaning in his silence.

“I didn't think you approached me again with the idea of a marriage proposal,” she scoffed, though she was willing the tears away with all her might.

Hawk searched her eyes. “You know why I approached you…”

Yes, to make amends.

“Pia—”

“I-it's t-too late, Hawk,” she said, her voice agonized. “The cat's out of the bag, and we're finished. Our affair was going to have to end sometime, so why not now? Except this time, I'm the one walking away.”

Before Hawk could respond, someone called his name, and she and Hawk turned as one to glance down the hall.

Michelene was standing at the top of the stairs.

Not waiting for more, Pia turned and hurried down the hall in the opposite direction, leaving Hawk standing where he was.

Pia slipped inside her bedroom and closed and locked the
door behind her. Then she leaned back against the wall of the darkened room, grateful for reaching sanctuary.

When all of this had started, Hawk's motivation was to make amends. His motivation had never been, she reminded herself, swallowing hard, to love her or promise forever more.

She bit her lip to stop it from trembling, even as the tears welled.

The only question was how was she going to mend her heart when this was over and she'd truly gotten away—if she ever could?

Twelve

A
s it turned out, Pia managed to make her escape more expeditiously than she'd imagined possible. After collecting herself and drying her tears, she packed her few bags in a hurry and summoned one of Hawk's chauffeurs to drive her to nearby Oxford.

She knew Hawk would remain occupied tonight with the engagement party, whether he liked it or not. She also knew Oxford would afford her a host of inns and hotels in which to stay for the night while she booked a flight back to New York—and planned her next move.

During the night at a small inn, however she remembered that the Earl and Countess of Melton were staying at their home, Gantswood Hall, in nearby Gloucestershire. So the morning, after a quick ring to Tamara, Pia used a rental car to drive to Gantswood Hall.

When Pia arrived after midday, Tamara greeted her inside the front door with a quick hug.

Before she'd left New York, Pia had mentioned to Tamara
that she planned to be in England for Lucy Carsdale's engagement party, so her friend was aware that she would be in the country.

But Pia had said nothing on the phone about the reason for her sudden trip to Gantswood Hall. And if Tamara had been surprised at Pia's impromptu plan to visit, she hadn't given any indication.

Now, as she and Tamara drew apart from their hug, Pia couldn't help experiencing a pang. She'd noticed that her friend's pregnancy had started to show. And Tamara looked happy and relaxed, dressed in a cowl-neck cashmere sweater and black tights, her red hair pulled back in a knot.

Pia knew her own situation was in startling contrast. She couldn't be further away from Tamara's happily-ever-after. She was sad and depressed, and she hadn't slept well last night. No amount of makeup this morning had been able to disguise her pallor and the peaked look around her eyes.

Tamara searched her face, her brow puckering. “What's wrong? You gave no indication on the phone. But I can see from the look of you that something is amiss.”

Pia parted her lips.
What was the use in hiding the truth?

“L-last night was Lucy Carsdale's engagement party,” she said without preamble.

Tamara's eyes widened. “Did something go wrong? Oh, Pia!”

Much to her horror, Pia felt her eyes well with tears.

Tamara looked at her with concern for a moment, and then wrapped her in a hug again.

“It's okay,” Tamara said soothingly, patting her on the back. “I've been prone to tears myself, what with raging hormones during this pregnancy. I'm sure whatever happened is not as bad as it seems right now.”

Pia hiccupped and straightened, taking a step back. “No, it's worse.”

Tamara had obviously concluded that Pia was upset because something had gone wrong with Lucy's engagement party, Pia realized. Tamara had no idea about Hawk's role.

When she'd told Tamara and Belinda that she'd be traveling to England in order to help with Lucy's engagement party, she'd left out that Hawk himself had extended an invitation to visit Silderly Park.

Tamara put an arm around her shoulders. “Come into the drawing room with me. We can be cozy there, and you can tell me all about it. I was about to have a light snack brought in.”

As a member of the household staff appeared from the back of the house, Tamara added, “Haines, could you please arrange to have Pia's bags moved from her car to the Green and Gold Bedroom? Thank you.”

“Of course,” Haines acknowledged with an inclination of the head as they passed him.

Pia let Tamara guide her through the palatial house, Sawyer's ancestral family seat, until they reached a large room with French doors overlooking the back lawn and gardens. Despite the masterpieces framed on the walls, the room was warm and inviting.

Pia sat with Tamara on a brocade settee in front of a large fireplace.

Tamara handed her a tissue, and Pia made use of it to compose herself.

“Now,” Tamara said encouragingly, “I'm sure this is nothing that you can't put behind you.”

Pia bit her lip.
If only Tamara knew.

“I don't know,” she said. “I've been trying to put Hawk behind me for three years.”

Tamara's eyebrows lifted. “Then all this emotion isn't because something went wrong with Lucy's engagement party?”

“Oh, something went wrong, all right. I found out Hawk had a fiancée waiting in the wings.”

“Oh, Pia.”

With some effort, Pia outlined what had happened at Silderly Park—from Michelene's unexpected arrival to what had transpired the night before at Lucy's party.

When she finished, she looked at Tamara beseechingly.

“How could I have been so stupid again?” she asked in an agonized voice. “How could I let myself become vulnerable to him once more?”

“You let yourself become susceptible to Hawk's charms…”

Tamara trailed off, and though she'd spoken without inflection, she seemed to be trying to guess at what Pia was really saying.

Pia sighed. Why not come out with the whole bald-faced truth?

She hadn't divulged details to Tamara and Belinda of her recent and evolving relationship with Hawk. She knew they would have tried to dissuade her from any deeper involvement—and certainly from trying to turn the tables in a high-stakes game with a seasoned player like Hawk.

“It's worse,” Pia said succinctly. “I slept with him.”

Tamara looked surprised, though not as caught unawares as Pia would have expected. Still, her friend didn't say anything.

“After the first time I slept with him, he disappeared for three years,” Pia said, the words tumbling out of her. “This time, we sleep together, and then I discover he's nearly engaged to another woman!”

“Oh, Pia,” Tamara said. “I had no idea, believe me. If I'd known, of course I would have said something.”

Tamara frowned. “I wonder why Sawyer didn't say anything. He and Hawk are friends. He must have had at least some inkling about an engagement—”

Pia shrugged. “Perhaps Sawyer had no idea that a warning
was necessary. I mean, Hawk and I had a past but no present. And now, we definitely have no future…”

Pia felt a wave of pain wash over her. Had she started hoping for a future with Hawk? How much of her hurt was due to the fact that she really hadn't wanted the relationship to end, and how much due to the way she'd shockingly found out that it was over—because there was another woman?

It shouldn't hurt this bad.

If she was honest with herself, she'd say she'd never completely gotten over Hawk. And now…now she was in love with him while he was going to marry another woman.

The realization hit like a body blow.

“Pia?” Tamara said. “Are you okay?”

Pia could only nod, her throat too constricted for words.

Tamara stroked her arm soothingly. “I know it hurts. You'll need time.”

Pia nodded, and then took a deep breath.

“I was so naive,” she announced when she could speak again. “When Michelene arrived, I thought perhaps she and Hawk had dated in the past. It never occurred to me that I should be concerned about the future!”

“Well, don't worry. I'll have Sawyer call Hawk out,” Tamara stated, trying to lighten the mood. “Sawyer must have some centuries-old ceremonial swords lying around somewhere that they can duel with…”

Pia gave a choked laugh. “I don't know. Hawk is in good shape. He's a rock climber.”

Pia was thankful for Tamara's understanding. She wasn't sure if Belinda would have managed to be quite so deft at a time like this. But then Tamara was happily married, while Belinda was trying her utmost to be happily
unmarried.

Pia tried to compose herself, and gave Tamara a watery smile. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

Tamara gave a rueful little smile of her own. “I know what
you're going through, Pia, believe me. It's where I was just a few months ago.”

“But everything worked out for you. Sawyer adores you.”

“I didn't think it was possible at the time. There'll come a day when you'll be happy again—I promise.”

Pia sighed. “Not any time soon. I'm committed to seeing through Lucy's big event. How will it look if I end this horrible year by dropping Lucy's wedding at the last moment? It will truly be a fatal blow to Pia Lumley Wedding Productions!”

Tamara grimaced. “I wish I could question Sawyer right now, but he flew back to New York yesterday, and I know he's in a business meeting right now.”

“It's okay. It won't change anything.”

Nothing could make this right.

“What is Michelene's full name?” Tamara queried suddenly.

“It's Ward-Fombley. Michelene Ward-Fombley.”

Tamara nodded. “I've heard of her, though I can't put a face to the name at the moment.”

“She's genteel and attractive.”

“So are you.”

“You're loyal.”

Tamara tilted her head. “I'm sure I've heard the name in connection with one social function or another here in England…”

“I'm not surprised,” Pia admitted, though it hurt. “She's from Hawk's social circle. In fact, I believe she was a leading candidate to be Hawk's older brother's bride until William passed away.”

Tamara grimaced again. “Oh, Pia, are you sure Hawk isn't just feeling some lingering halfhearted sense of obligation?”

“Even if he is, it doesn't change matters. He engaged in some artful omissions, and I can only assume that his sense of obligation remains.”

Hawk had assumed responsibilities in the past three years, Pia reflected, and she was suffering the consequences.

She recalled the look on the dowager duchess's face last night. Yes, Pia thought with a stab, Hawk had his life mapped out for him, and their paths were apparently fated to cross only briefly and casually, with no serious feelings or commitment—at least not on his part.

“I need to book a flight,” Pia told Tamara. “With any luck, I can catch a plane back to New York by tomorrow.”

Her friend looked troubled. “Oh, Pia, please stay longer. You're upset.”

Pia was glad for the offer, but still she shook her head. “Thank you, Tamara—for everything.” She pasted on a brave smile. “But I have business that needs attending to back in New York.”

At the moment, she added silently, she needed to put as much space as possible between her and Hawk.

She also worried that if Sawyer returned home, he'd inform Hawk of her whereabouts. Pia had come to like Tamara's husband, but she knew he was also Hawk's friend.

And she wasn't ready to face Hawk again quite so soon.

Once she was back in New York, she only had to figure out how to avoid Hawk until Lucy's wedding was over. Because one thing was certain—they were over as a couple.

 

Hawk sat in his office in New York in a rare quiet moment and reflected on the royal mess he'd made.

Pia had run from him, and he no doubt ranked even lower than the fictional wicked Mr. Wickham in her estimation at the moment.

Mrs. Hollings, no doubt using her crystal ball and her contacts across the Atlantic, had published more or less the heart of the matter in her column: “Could a certain rakish, hawkish duke have resurrected his randy dandy ways before heading to the altar with a suitable marriageable miss?”

His painstakingly built reputation as a serious financier with hardly a remarkable social life was threatening to collapse. He'd merited three thinly-veiled references in Mrs. Hollings's gossip column in the past months.

Pia had laid dust to his resolve to appear—and to
be—
strictly proper and responsible. He'd thought he was reformed. She'd proved him wrong.

She thought he'd played her false, and the truth was, he'd been less than aboveboard and forthright. As a result, Pia had been crushed by the unexpected events at Lucy's engagement party.

And Mrs. Hollings, blast it, knew it all.

It would be easy, of course, for him to track down Pia. He knew where she lived, and she was still working on Lucy's wedding—or rather, he thought she was.

Lucy had become rather tight-lipped on the subject of Pia. His sister had seemed to intuit what had transpired at Silderly Park, based on Michelene's unexpected arrival and Pia's abrupt departure. It was clear that Lucy disapproved of his treatment of Pia, though she'd refrained from outright verbal censuring.

And then again, what would he say to Pia if he tracked her down?

He should have told her about Michelene and
explained—
but what exactly? Until Pia had unexpectedly reappeared in his life on Belinda's wedding day in June, he and everyone else had thought he'd marry someone suitable. It had been, in so many ways, the path of least resistance. It was time to marry, and with his reputation as a top-flight financier in place, a predictable marriage had been the final step toward burying his playboy past for good.

Yet how serious could he ever have been about Michelene if she'd barely even crossed his mind the whole time he'd been with Pia? He asked himself that question now. The
idea of proposing to Michelene had never assumed concrete terms…

When the phone rang, he leaned forward and picked up the receiver on his desk. “Yes?”

“Sawyer Langsford is here to see you.”

“Tell him to come in.”

After replacing the phone, he rose from his chair, just in time to see Sawyer walk into his office.

As Hawk came around his desk, he was glad to see his friend, even though he had some suspicion as to what had precipitated this visit.

“If you're here to castigate me,” he said without preamble, “I can assure you that I'm already doing a fine job of it myself.”

Sawyer smiled wryly. “Tamara suggested a duel at dawn, but I set her straight that it wasn't quite the thing anymore among us aristocrats.”

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