“What are we doing here?”
Dominic didn’t say anything. He climbed out and tossed his keys to the valet who greeted him by name. Again, no response. As he strode inside, I trotted after him to catch up. Then I crashed into him, because he’d come to an abrupt halt, just inside the doors.
He was staring at a massive banner, draping down into the open-air atrium from several stories up. The banner was huge, taking up two full levels. It was completely dominated on one side by a woman’s face.
On the other side, there was a symbol. I only recognized it because I’d seen it earlier, when I’d done my quick search on her back at Antonio's place. Overlying the symbol were the words: Our children are our future. We owe them better.
Cecily Cole was a striking woman. I could see that as I gazed up at her enlarged image.
Suddenly, the pit of my stomach dropped out as I realized what was going on. She was an activist and a philanthropist. This was some sort of gala, probably a fundraiser for one of the youth charities she either ran or endorsed. Judging by the people gathered around us or lining up near the escalators to go down a level toward the ballroom, this looked to be some sort of formal affair too.
I might have started to laugh hysterically if I had the chance, or the time, but I already knew what would happen. This fancy party of hers was about to be crashed...by her son. The one she thought had died at birth. What a crazy twist of fate had brought her here, to her son's hotel.
Security wouldn’t throw him out. Not Dominic Snow.
I mentally groaned as I heard somebody greeting him, and me, from several feet away. “Mr. Snow! Ms. Davison…I didn’t know we were expecting you today…”
His voice got lost in the rush of noise as Dominic started to move forward, focused on nothing but the image of the woman staring down at him from two stories over our heads.
Our children…
That had to hurt so much.
I shot a look at the woman I recognized from the concierge staff and shook my head, then I rushed after Dominic.
“Stop.” I caught his arm and squeezed gently.
“Let go.”
I'd heard that tone of voice before, but never directed at me. I pushed aside the stab of hurt. I couldn’t imagine how much pain he was in. I couldn’t imagine how he was feeling, but in my heart, I knew this wasn’t the way. He had to want to know his mother and I couldn’t imagine her not wanting to know him. But he couldn't do it this way.
As he tried to shake me off, I tightened my grip. “Not like this.”
“I’m going to see her. I have that right.” He didn't even look at me.
“You aren’t wrong. I’m not arguing that.” I squeezed his arm again and stepped in front of him. I put my hand on his cheek. “But look around you, baby. Look.”
His jaw flexed as he finally looked down at me.
“What do you think she’s doing? Who do you think she’s doing this for?”
Some of the steel left his spine and I heard a ragged intake of breath. I dared to move in closer, dared to let go of his arm and take his hand. “This is all about you. She turned her entire life around because of you, to make up for what she thought she had done to you. She blamed herself for you dying when you were really stolen away. Neither of you are to blame for that, but all of this…she’s done so much good and it was all because of you.”
He was staring at the floor now, shoulders rising and falling raggedly. “Aleena…”
The pain in his voice made me wince. “Let her do what she came here for. We’ll find her. You’ll talk to her. But don’t just crash in there like this. Yeah, you deserve to know her, but she’s spent her life missing you. You’re going to knock her off her feet when you do this. Don’t do it in a room full of strangers.”
***
Dominic and I ended up in the executive offices normally used by the hotel manager. In news that surprised me not at all, there were no rooms open at the Masque. The hotel manager apologized effusively, so much so that I felt bad for him and tried to assure him that he didn’t need to worry about it.
As he backed out of the office, amidst his third apology, he promised to send up dinner and a bottle of Dominic’s favorite scotch.
“Could I possibly offer anything else?” he asked, hesitating.
“Ah…a dress? Something black and formal?” I asked, looking down at myself. “Fast?” I looked at my beige heels and made a face. “Shoes too?”
He peered at my feet, then ran his gaze up and down my body. There was no lust there, only a practiced eye. With a smile, he accurately guessed the sizes I'd need. “Give me thirty minutes, Ms. Davison.” He flicked a look at Dominic’s averted back. I shook my head.
He nodded and left without another word.
“You flustered him,” I said.
Dominic didn’t respond. I moved toward him, uncertain if I should, but needing to touch him, to try to offer some sort of reassurance. Even as I was lifting a hand, he turned, catching me in his arms. He pulled me tight against his body and his mouth came down on mine, hard and demanding. I clung to him as he kissed me, as his teeth sunk into my bottom lip hard enough to make me gasp.
He tore his mouth from mine. “Make me stop thinking, please. Even for just a few minutes.”
“Whatever you need.” I glanced behind me. “The door…”
He let go, his fingers lingering at my waist for a moment. I hurried over to turn the lock and when I turned around, he was there, his pants already undone, his cock thick and hard.
His eyes burning into me, he backed me up against the solid oak of the door and reached down, dragging my skirt up around my waist. He lifted me, one arm bracing me against the door, the other moving between us to pull aside the crotch of my panties.
“I’m sorry. I can’t…I have to be inside you,” he said, his voice raw. He stared at me with broken eyes and I put my hand on his cheek.
“Whatever you need.”
He thrust inside me and I swallowed a cry. I wasn’t ready for him and I bit my lip as he began a slow, devastating invasion. His cock rasped against folds just barely wet and then he withdrew. He surged in a little deeper and I took him better because I was wetter now, but not enough. Then he started all over again.
It was intimate and raw and powerful and I clung to him, whispering small, meaningless words as I encouraged him to take solace in my body. His mouth ate at mine, his teeth nipping my lower lip, his tongue thrusting deep and echoing the rhythm of his body.
There was a knock at the door.
“Mr. Snow. I have—”
I moaned.
“Ah...Mr. Snow?”
“Leave it outside the door.”
Dominic's voice was harsh and I had no doubt the manager knew exactly what we were doing. But I didn't care. I had nothing to be ashamed of. The man I loved was hurting and I was comforting him. There was no shame in that.
Dominic slammed into me harder, his eyes as dark as a night sky. “I love you,” he said. His fingers twisted in my hair and he dragged my mouth back to his. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.” I bit his lip, felt him stiffen, felt his cock swell. “You know I do. I love you. I want you.” I twisted my fingers in the hair at the base of his skull. “You're mine.”
He groaned, then, started to come.
I wasn’t there yet and I writhed against him, desperate, but he was there, taking care of me. He pushed his hand between us, stroked my clit in quick, hard strokes.
I whimpered and jerked against him as he shoved straight up in me, impaling me on his cock as he emptied himself inside me. And then I was right there with him.
***
When we opened the door, I had a neat, black formal waiting for me, along with a pair of elegant heels with sparkly little straps that winked in the light. The dress was simple. It clung to my curves and fell straight to the floor. I had no jewelry and had to rush through washing up in the bathroom, but it would have to be enough. I knew Dominic woul
dn’t be content to wait for long, but once I dressed, I’d told him to trust me. I asked him to give me thirty minutes to go out and try to make this go as smooth as possible.
I guess he knew the same thing I did—if he kept staring up at the massive banner, he wouldn’t be able to wait, so he stayed in the office as I slipped out, leaving him to sip on his scotch and stare at the food neither of us had been able to eat.
As I made my way into the main lobby, I mentally prepared myself for what I might say and how I could make this happen. If positions were reversed, and somebody was trying to get to Dominic. How would they make that happen? Through me, I realized. That meant I needed to find Cecily Cole’s people. Her assistant, secretary, PA, whatever term she used, whomever she had with her.
Plan of action set, I scanned the crowd. One of the gala organizers caught sight of me and started to hustle my way. Clearly, my quick clean up wasn’t passing muster. A moment later, I was about ready to kiss the hotel manager, because a member of hotel security cut the woman off and spoke to her quietly. She gave me a disgruntled look, but walked off. I smiled at the security guard, looking professional and competent in his black suit. He tipped an imaginary hat at me and resumed his post.
I was about ready to whip out my phone and do a Google search—who is Cicely Cole’s personal assistant—when I caught sight of a small, but heated discussion taking place near the main doors.
It was quieter out in the lobby now. I could hear a dull roar coming from inside the ballroom, which meant the party was probably revving up. A trim, elegant woman with snow white hair and razor-sharp cheekbones was speaking to a stocky, squarely built man in a discreet suit.
I studied him for a long moment and then looked at the woman. She bore a striking resemblance to Cecily. The cheekbones, the facial structure in general, although this woman looked as though she never smiled. There was an older gentleman with her who looked…faded. Graying, tired and weak, like there wasn’t much of him left.
They faced the square, solid man with an air of indignation. He smiled politely back at them and shook his head.
Bingo.
I glided closer, accepted a glass of champagne from a strolling waiter when it was offered. The better to blend in, of course. Taking the edge off was just a bonus. When the older couple moved off, I moved in and held out my hand.
“Hello. I’m Aleena Davison…I’m Dominic Snow’s personal assistant.”
He glanced at me and then smiled. “Ms. Davison. I’m Tom, Cecily’s assistant. I hadn’t heard Mr. Snow would be in attendance at the gala tonight. Ms. Cole would be delighted to speak with him.” His smile widened into an all-out grin. “I’ll warn you, she is priming the guests for donations as we speak.”
“Yes, well…” Here goes nothing. “He’s actually not down as a guest. He does want to speak with her though.”
Don’t be mad at me, Dominic. I sweetened the pot. “If you can coax her into giving him some one-on-one time this evening, I can promise you he’ll sign a check. Dominic is very much a believer in Ms. Cole’s cause.”
Tom’s eyes were thoughtful. After a moment, he nodded slowly. “I can talk with her, see if we can work something out. Might I ask what it’s in regards to?”
“Well, that’s more his concern than mine.” I gave him an easy smile and shrugged. “You know how it is, right?”
***
“A believer in her cause?” Dominic raised an eyebrow.
I gave him a weak smile. “I wanted to make sure she’d come up here.” With a wince, I said, “Do I need to apologize?”
“No.” He looked up from the empty glass he’d been studying and gave me a bleak smile. “You did exactly what you’d promised, Aleena. And hell, it’s not a bad cause.”
Then he sighed and went back to staring into his drink.
I settled down next to him and looked at the clock. “Tom told me he’d get back to me about a time. I don’t have any idea when it will be.”
Dominic pulled me onto his lap and I settled my head on his shoulder.
“I can think of several ways to pass the time,” he whispered into my ear, his fingers teasing my thigh through the slit in my skirt.
I reluctantly shook my head. “No.” Despite the fact that my pussy was still throbbing from his prior rough treatment, my body protested my refusal. “If he says twenty minutes from now, I’m not going to pull open that door looking like…like…”
“Like the woman I’m desperate to touch?” He ran his fingers down my cheek. “To make love to? All the time? Every day? Every way I can?”
I slid my eyes to meet his and leaned in, kissing him firmly. “Stop being a living, breathing temptation.”
He kissed me back with more enthusiasm, his tongue sliding into my mouth for a slow, pleasurable exploration. He sighed as he finally broke the kiss and then repositioned me so that we were sitting side by side.
“Fine. We’ll watch a movie instead.”
He didn’t sound enthusiastic.
Neither was I.
Waiting sucked.
Chapter 13
Dominic
The movie played on, but neither of us paid much attention. It was a mutual favorite, but we couldn’t focus on much of anything. Every couple of minutes, I’d look at the clock. Then she would. I was definitely wishing I could've talked Aleena into occupying me with her mouth, her body...
Fuck. I understood why she hadn't wanted to though. She cared what...Ms. Cole thought about her.
As the movie ended, the minute hand swept up to twelve, while the hour hand brushed eleven.
“Late hour for a meeting,” Aleena said, trying to break the silence. She smiled at me.
I reached up and touched her cheek. “I love you.” I could hardly believe how easily the words came now.
She covered my hand with hers and nodded. Then she stood up and turned off the TV. I watched her, elegant and sleek in black velvet, as she moved across the floor. I got up and went to pour myself a drink. It was my third and I was pushing it, but I didn’t much care at that point.
The knock came just as I was tossing back half the scotch. I choked, the fiery liquid burning a path between throat and lungs.
Aleena shot me a look as she hurried to answer. I turned away, struggled to regulate my breathing. Fuck. Oh, fuck.
“Hello, Tom. Ms. Cole...”
Ms. Cole. My mother...
Dimly, I heard her speaking. I swiped the back of my hand over my mouth, sucked in a breath and tried to steady myself.
“Ms. Davison, hello. Tom tells me your Mr. Snow has a proposition...”
I turned.
Her gaze came to me and then started to move away.
It snapped back almost immediately and I watched as she lapsed into silence, her face going pale. Shit. I'd forgotten how much I looked like him, the senator. The man who'd gotten her pregnant. My father. Shit.
I didn’t know what to say. Dammit. Why hadn’t I thought of something to say, how to say this?
Her face was ghost white, eyes huge and startled.
“Ms. Cole. May I offer you a seat?” Aleena touched her arm. Cecily looked around, dazed and then nodded, letting Aleena guide her to a couch.
Tom was staring at me, hard, dislike clear in his eyes. He'd already figured out that something wasn't quite right here.
I swallowed and reached up to tug at a tie I wasn’t even wearing. I just couldn’t breathe.
Aleena looked at me and I stared at her helplessly. I didn't know what to do. What to say. Me, Dominic Snow, who was always in control, was completely at a loss.
Aleena gave me an encouraging smile and then looked back at Cecily. “Ms. Cole. I...” She paused and then said, “I need to beg your understanding and your patience. Please.”
Cecily was still staring at me.
“Ms. Cole?”
Finally, she looked at Aleena and nodded.
I retreated back behind the desk and listened. Listened as the woman I’d never expected to
love told the woman I’d never expected to find a story that sounded insane, even to me. But it had nothing to do with me. It was about the baby snatching ring from twenty years ago. When she stopped, Cecily was twisting a handkerchief around and around in her hands. After a moment, she looked up. “I know all about that ring, Ms. Davison.” She hesitated and then said, “I assume you’re telling me this because you know about my son.”
“Yes.”
Cecily nodded and struggled to smile. It was an attempt at a cool, collected smile and it was a damn good one.
But it wobbled and I could see the bleak heartbreak in her eyes. What were we doing? I didn’t need to know that badly. I didn’t need to tear open old wounds, did I? What kind of person was I that I'd hurt this kind, caring woman?
“If you know about him, then you know that my son died twenty-eight years ago. A doctor was there. He pronounced him dead at birth.”
Aleena leaned forward. The compassion that had gotten to me from the beginning showed in her eyes. “Your nana heard him crying.”
For a long moment, Cecily just stared at her. Then she leapt up, her jaw going tight. “No!” Her voice was harsh, jagged. Fists clenched at her sides. “No. Stop this. You…why are you doing this? It’s cruel. Isabel left because of what I’d done. Because I’d killed my son with the life I lived.” She swept the room with a gaze, but this time, her eyes bounced right off me as though I wasn’t there. “Tom, we’re leaving.”
But Tom was studying me, and it wasn't dislike in his eyes anymore. It was something else.
“She heard him crying, Ms. Cole,” Aleena said again, her voice gentle. “We spoke to her brother. She was fired the day after you gave birth. She didn’t want to leave. They made her. They wouldn’t let her come back, Cecily. They fired her because she knew you’d given birth to a healthy boy and they sold him.”
“No.” It was a whisper this time.
Her eyes skipped to me, held for a bare moment and I knew she was seeing the face of the man who’d fathered me. She’d felt something for him, I realized with a start. I could see it in her eyes. He’d turned his back on her. She’d written that much in the book. She’d thought she loved him and now she was staring at a man who looked so much like him.