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But instead he said, ‘Then we’re not going back inside.’
She looked desperate now, her eyes wide and pleading. ‘Dominic, don’t be ridiculous. We’ve got your clients to sort out; my handbag is in there...’
‘I’ll text Sylvia. She can deal with everything.’ In fact, he rather thought his sister might cheer approvingly.
‘So what are we going to do?’ Faith asked.
It wasn’t a plan, wasn’t something he’d thought out or weighed up and decided on. And it might be the most un-Lord-Beresford-like thing he’d done in his entire life.
But somehow Dominic knew it was the only thing to do.
‘We’re going to take a night off.’
‘A night off?’ Faith’s forehead crinkled up.
He nodded. ‘One night. Just one night, where I’m not Lord Beresford and you’re not my employee. One night to just be Dominic and Faith.’
She wanted it, he could tell. Her eyes were wider than ever, filled with amazement, and the slight flush on her cheeks told him she hadn’t missed any of the possibilities of the suggestion.
‘For just this one night,’ he said, moving closer, ‘it doesn’t matter about the truth. Doesn’t matter about our pasts, or our futures. For tonight, all that matters is us.’
He took her hand, rubbing circles on her palm with his thumb, and held his breath when she looked up at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
‘Just one night?’
‘Just one night,’ he echoed.
‘What will we do?’ she asked, and Dominic’s mind filled with possibilities, most including getting her out of that ugly dress as soon as possible.
No. Too quick. If he only had one night with her, he needed to do this properly.
‘First, I’m going to take you out for dinner. Anywhere you choose.’
Some of the tension dropped from her stance at that, and she smiled. ‘I know just the place.’
* * *
The crowds were still gathered out front, but by keeping close to the side of the building they managed to avoid them as they dashed across the street behind the theatre, the warm evening air smelling of freedom and possibility.
One night. Just one night. That was what he’d said. And even though Faith knew she shouldn’t, knew that this could end in disaster, or at least a broken heart, she couldn’t resist that kind of temptation. Surely she could keep her secret for just one night?
Covent Garden buzzed with life, filled to overflowing with tourists, buskers, after-work socialisers, people wanting to sell something and people looking to buy. Faith let the sights and sounds warm her, make her feel at home again. She hadn’t realised she’d felt so out of place in her own London that week, until now.
‘So, where do you want to go?’ Dominic asked. ‘Somewhere around here?’ He cast an arm around him at the market piazza, almost hitting a tourist in shorts and a Bermuda shirt as he did so. ‘Looks like there’s plenty of places to choose from.’ Seeing Faith’s horrified look, he added, ‘What? I know it’s not exactly up there with the meals you’ve been organising this week—’
‘That’s not it,’ Faith interrupted. ‘Just...Covent Garden’s for the tourists. It’s the equivalent of eating pizza right next door to the Coliseum in Rome. You’ll get perfectly ordinary pizza at three times the price.’
They’d stopped walking, Faith realised, and were standing still in a sea of people, swelling and ebbing around them. Dominic’s hand came down to rest at her waist, pulling her in closer, anchoring her against the tide. Heat spread out through her body from the place where they touched, and she swallowed, hard.
‘Follow me,’ she said, and grabbed his hand with her own.
It was easy to get trapped in the slow-moving crowds if you didn’t know what you were doing. Dominic would have been far too polite to do the essential barging through if she’d left him to his own devices. That was the only reason she held his hand, she reasoned.
Of course, once they’d escaped the market and were walking more casually away along Long Acre, she didn’t let go. By that point, it felt far too natural.
‘Where are we going?’ Dominic asked, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand in a relaxing rhythm.
‘A little Italian I know.’ Marco had taken her there, back when he was trying to hire her for his fledgling tour company. He said it would give her a real taste of Rome.
Dominic’s thumb stopped its comforting movements. ‘Missing Italy already?’
‘Not really,’ Faith said, giving him a smile. ‘Mostly just the pasta.’
He returned the smile and started stroking her hand again.
