Page 32 of Her Dom's Secret Past

Graciously, he gave a slight regal nod of the head and said, “Then I shall pass the message on.”

I left the shop, thinking I’d survived a test I’d forgotten to study for and checked my watch—ten-twenty. Okay, I’d go grab a coffee somewhere.

I found a small coffee shop across the road and settled in to wait. This was definitely not me. I have never chased a woman before, especially one who’d made it clear by not ringing that she didn’t want to see me. But then, never in my life had a woman made an impression on me like Anabelle had, and I’d never honestly been in love before. I loved her more than anything in this world.

It wasn’t simply the physical attraction to her, it was her caring nature. I smiled, remembering the day she’d insisted on me walking to her villa and relaxing. It was pretty obvious I was in a lot of pain, and she didn’t seem to mind that I couldn’t lift a hand to save myself. She’d even made a suggestion about rubbing cream into my scars and offered to do it. Then when we’d sat and talked in the Jacuzzi, I discovered exactly how smart she was, and funny. I was sure she felt the same attraction as I did. She certainly appeared to, Why the fuck hadn’t she contacted me? I’d left her a clear message.

I knew I had to face the fact that for her, it was only a holiday fling, even if she’d given me a different impression. Maybe it was because it hadn’t been consummated properly. Perhaps once she got home and got back into “normal” living, she changed her mind. I kept rolling out reasons, pretending to myself there was another excuse why she hadn’t rang.

These past couple of months had been agony, trying to get to grips with the fact I’d been dumped by the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I’d moped about and even my beautiful new house couldn’t get me motivated. All I thought about was Anabelle. I’d even printed out a couple of photos of her and sat for hours memorizing her lovely face. Well, she’d made her intention plain.

Get lost, it was nice, but it’s over.

So why the hell did I have to torture myself by hearing directly from her? Because I wanted to know the fucking reason.

Oh well, very soon I’d have my answer. I ordered another coffee and checked the time. Still ten minutes before eleven. I took my time drinking and stared at her boutique. It was a very large building and I could see they had several floors as there were gowns on display in the windows of the upper two floors. The ground floor was all glass with only one dress on display. I could see the place reeked of elegance and expense. There had been a discrete sign just near the entry door—By Appointment Only. Sounded like the Queen.

I let my mind wander again.

The way she’d laugh. That hair of hers, wild and carefree. I remembered the first time I’d kissed her. Fuck! It was as if I’d been struck by lightning, not only by the waves. I’d heard kisses described as electrifying, but I’d never experienced them until that day. I was sure the hair on my body stood at attention, I knew for a fact one part did.

Shit. What am I doing?

Why on earth was I sitting here, putting myself through this pain?

Here I was pining after a woman who wasn’t interested in me. She’d made it plain by ignoring my letter.I should go home.I had to try to forget her. I got to my feet and left the café. I started walking up the street to where I’d left my car and then stopped. No, dammit, I had to know. Retracing my steps, I crossed the road and went back to the salon. I briefly shut my eyes and took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

The same big door guardian was lying in wait and pounced as soon as I entered. Damn, I forgot to bring a box of chocolates, a mug of coffee, or maybe a raw steak to appease him. Surprisingly, he appeared friendlier. Weird, this was a much different treatment than this morning’s. I took it as a good sign.

“If you’ll take a seat, I’ll let Miss Rowley know you’re here.”

I perched on the edge of an ornate but surprisingly comfortable chair and cracked my knuckles a few times. Stupid habit, but I tended to do it when I was nervous.

At least she was prepared to see me, otherwise her henchman would have gleefully shown me the door. He returned, giving me a broad smile. He acted as if I were his best buddy now, and it put me on edge.

“This way.” He beamed at me as I stood and then followed him down a corridor and up a flight of stairs.

“First door on the left. She’s finishing up a call.”

I thanked him and walked ahead, hoping he wasn’t intending to ambush me from behind. Tapping lightly as I entered her office, I looked around then at her. Large room with lots of stuff everywhere. She had an enormous wooden work table that was covered in swatches of fabrics, laces, beads, and stuff. There was a drafting board with one of those high chairs in front of it. Her desk was almost drowned in folders, photographs, and even more pieces of fabric. She had a pair of red glasses perched on the edge of her nose and she took them off as I entered.

Her eyes followed me, her face reflecting many different emotions—happiness, fear, surprise.

“Okay, thanks, Mr. Hui. I appreciate your assistance. Bye.”

She stood, came around the desk, and moved very close to me.

She looked up into my face and whispered, “John.” Her breath catching on the word.

That was all, but I heard the longing, the desire, and the need in that one word. I held out my arms and she fell into them. I wrapped them tight around her. This was where she belonged, with her head resting against my chest. When she raised her face, I saw her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“You found me.”

“I did.”

“Thank goodness.”

I did a double take. What on earth could she mean?

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