And like one of those tough little ponies, Dom thought with a slow curl in his belly, Ms. Clark needed taming. She might hide behind those glasses and shapeless dresses, but she had a temper on her when roused. Too bad he didn’t have time to gentle her to his hand. The exercise would be a hell of a lot more interesting than the meetings he had lined up in Washington tomorrow. Still, he entertained himself for the rest of the cab ride with various techniques he might employ should he cross paths with Natalie Elizabeth Clark anytime in the near future.
He’d pretty much decided he would make that happen when Zia let him into the duchess’s apartment.
“Back so soon?” she said, her eyes dancing. “Ms. Clark didn’t succumb to your manly charms and topple into bed with you?”
The quip was so close to Dom’s recent thoughts that he answered more brusquely than he’d intended. “I didn’t go to her hotel to seduce her.”
“No? That must be a first.”
“Jézus, Mária és József! The mouth on you, Anastazia Amalia. I should have washed it with soap when I had the chance.”
“Ha! You would never have been able to hold me down long enough. But come in, come in! Sarah’s on FaceTime with her grandmother. I think you’ll be interested in their conversation.”
FaceTime? The duchess? Marveling at the willingness of a woman who’d been born in the decades between two great world wars to embrace the latest in technology, Dom followed his sister into the sitting room. One glance at the tableau corrected his impression of Charlotte’s geekiness.
She sat upright and unbending in her customary chair, her cane close at hand. An iPad was perched on her knees, but she was obviously not comfortable with the device. Gina sat cross-legged on the floor beside her, holding the screen to the proper angle
Sarah’s voice floated through the speaker and her elegant features filled most of the screen. Her husband’s filled the rest.
“I’m so sorry, Grandmama. It just slipped out.”
“What slipped out?” Dom murmured to Zia.
“You,” his sister returned with that mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Me?”
“Shh! Just listen.”
Frowning, Dom tuned back into the conversation.
“Alexis called with an offer to hype my book in
Beguile,” Sarah was saying. “She wanted to play up both angles.” Her nose wrinkled. “My former job at the magazine and my title. You know how she is.”
“Yes,” the duchess drawled. “I do.”
“I told Alexis the book wasn’t ready for hype yet. Unfortunately, I also told her we’re getting there much quicker since I’d hired such a clever research assistant. I bragged about the letter Natalie unearthed in the House of Parma archives, the one from Marie Antoinette to her sister describing the miniature of her painted by Le Brun that went missing when the mob sacked Versailles. And…” She heaved a sigh. “I made the fatal mistake of mentioning the codicil Nat had stumbled across while researching the Canaletto.”
Although the fact that Dom’s cousin had mentioned that damned codicil set his internal antennae to vibrating, it didn’t appear to upset the duchess. Mention of the Canaletto had brought a faraway look to her eyes.
“Your grandfather bought me that painting of the Grand Canal,” she murmured to Sarah. “Right after I became pregnant with your mother.”
She lapsed into a private reverie that neither of her granddaughters dared break. When she emerged a few moments later, she included them both in a sly smile.
“That’s where it happened. In Venice. We were supposed to attend a carnival ball at Ari Onassis’s palazzo. I’d bought the most gorgeous mask studded with pearls and lace. But…how does that rather obnoxious TV commercial go? You never know when the mood will hit you? All I can say is something certainly hit your grandfather that evening.”
Gina hooted in delight. “Way to go, Grandmama!”
Sarah laughed, and her husband issued a joking curse. “Damn! My wife suggested we hit the carnival in Venice this spring but I talked her into an African photo safari instead.”
“You’ll know to listen to her next time,” the duchess sniffed, although Dom would bet she knew the moment could strike as hot and heavy in the African savannah as it had in Venice.
“I don’t understand,” Gina put in from her perch on the floor. “What’s the big deal about telling Alexis about the codicil?”
“Well…” Red crept into Sarah’s cheeks. “I’m afraid I mentioned Dominic, too.”
The subject of the conversation muttered a curse, and Gina let out another whoop. “Ooh, boy! Your barracuda of an editor is gonna latch on to that with both jaws. I foresee another top-ten edition, this one listing the sexiest single royals of the male persuasion.”