“I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”
“No need to feel sorry for the old codger.” Dominic’s smile softened his words. “He’s a workaholic, but he’s enjoying the chance to spend some time with Mum, taking her on cruises to all the places he’d promised to when they were first married. And he still calls me over to the house whenever he’s in the UK to grill me about the company and the decisions I’m making. He can’t wait to take over the reins again next month.”
“What will you do when he returns?” Chantelle tried to keep her voice light, but a tremor still escaped. Dominic would then be free to return to the Caribbean and his decadent lifestyle.
“I don’t want him working too hard, so I’m going to stay here until next April to keep an eye on him.” They probably wouldn’t still be seeing each other, but Chantelle’s heart ached at the thought of him in another country. “I’ll celebrate my thirtieth birthday here in the UK and—”
“You’re not thirty yet?” she asked in mock surprise. “I thought you were mid- to late forties!”
“You’re looking for a spanking,” he threatened. “I will ‘mid- to late forties’ your sweet round ass if you don’t behave!”
“I’ll behave,” she promised quickly, knowing that he would probably carry out the threat if she provoked him any further. “And after your birthday you go back to your little island in the Caribbean?”
“You’ve been Googling me.” He chuckled.
“So you do own an island, then?”
“Yes,” he got off the bed, took her wrists in his hands and then wrapped his arms around her, holding her prisoner. “I want to take you there soon.”
“Well, since I may not be working for the company much longer,” she responded, unconsciously revealing the thought that had been foremost in her mind since that morning’s fateful meeting. “I may just have the free time.”
He freed his right hand and tilted her face up to his. “You’re not leaving the company!”
“Dominic, how can I stay after today? I would have loved the chance to work on the Thamesview Project, but now everyone will think that I’m sleeping with you and—”
“You are sleeping with me,” he reminded her, a smile playing around his lips.
“Dominic, be serious!”
“I don’t see what the problem is. It’s my father’s company and he has given his approval.”
“I really don’t want to leave, but—”
“Stop talking about leaving. You’re not going anywhere!” His grasp tightened around her wrist. For a moment she feared he would snap it.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Sorry.” The blood rushed back to her fingers as he immediately released her. He massaged it apologetically and then placed a kiss on her inner wrist. “I won’t let you leave because of an old fool who doesn’t know better than to keep his opinions to himself.”
“Dominic, it’s too late for that. They’ll all be thinking the same thing now.”
“The more reason to stop hiding our relationship.” Dominic hadn’t like the subterfuge in the first place. “This ducking and diving is getting old now. If you weren’t a virgin before we made love, I would suspect that you were seeing another man.”
“Of course I’m not seeing another man!”
“Then what is the problem?” he asked, clearly exasperated. “The last time I looked in the mirror, I had one head, two eyes, a nose and a mouth. Have I grown a third eye or an extra nose or mouth since?”#p#分页标题#e#
“Nothing’s wrong with your face and you know it!”
“Then what is it?”
“I just never…,” she began. This wasn’t going to be easy. She knew that he would take it the wrong way. “I just never thought I’d date someone like you.”
“Like me how?” He quirked an eyebrow and waited for her to elaborate.
“Look, I’ve always thought black women who dated white men were a little wannabe.”
“Wannabe?” he queried, his voice dangerously soft.
At another time, Chantelle would have laughed at his pronunciation of the Americanism with his proper British accent. This wasn’t a time for laughter.
“You know…wannabe white.”
“Do you want to be white?”
“No!” she denied hotly.
“Then why would any other black woman?”
“There are some, believe me!” Her friend Gail, for instance, who had never dated a black man and had always openly declared that she wanted her children to be light skinned and soft haired—not dark and nappy headed like their mother. She was still married to the man whom she’d confessed had called her the N-word while they were arguing on two separate occasions. She referred to her two young children’s race as white not mixed-race, although the children’s mixed legacy was plainly obvious. Chantelle already worried about them fitting into society as they grew older. Nothing she said could convince Gail that she needed to teach her children something of their black heritage.