the story, Miss!’
‘What?’ Snapping out of yet another recollection of the Dutch billionaire who seemed to be dominating her thoughts with alarming regularity that morning, Sophie flushed guiltily, adjusted the illustrated book in her lap, and smiled warmly down at the group of children gathered round her seat on the floor. ‘Where were we?’
‘The big bad wolf was just about to gobble up the grandmother!’ a little girl with blonde bobbed hair offered enthusiastically.
Sophie didn’t miss the irony that she should be reading the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf when her mind was preoccupied with thinking about Dominic…
The first thing she saw when she came through the door that evening was the package. Carrying it into the living room, Sophie shucked off the navy-blue duffel coat she’d been wearing over her skirt and sweater and laid the box down on the coffee table to examine the contents. There was a label on the back that announced the name of a well-known and expensive store in Knightsbridge, and Sophie frowned as she looked at it, wondering who on earth would be sending her anything from such an exclusive shop.
She came from an honest, hard-working, working-class family, and certainly her mum or dad or even her brother Phillip wouldn’t dream of sending her expensive presents totally out of the blue.. and neither would Sophie want them to. As she opened the box and stared down at the contents she sucked in her breath in astonishment.
It was a coat…the same fawn colour as her own, but made from cashmere, with a luxurious cream silk lining. Lifting it out to examine it more closely, Sophie saw to her amazement that it was the perfect size and length for her shape and height. Laying it down carefully on her threadbare burgundy couch, she searched around in the elegant tissue paper for a note of some kind, even though by now she had a pretty good idea who had sent it.
By the time she’d located the small gold-embossed business card, with ‘Dominic’ scrawled across one side in an impressive flourish, her heart was just about ready to burst out of her chest. Sophie couldn’t remember telling him her address, but at some point in the evening she guessed she must have. After they’d made love they’d had more champagne brought to the room, and Sophie had been uncharacteristically giggly and talkative because of it.
She groaned out loud as she remembered. But why was Dominic sending her such an expensive coat when all they’d had was a one-night stand? Was it meant to be some kind of veiled insult or a reproach to make Sophie feel cheap? Was that it? He’d said he’d meant no affront when he’d asked her to go to bed with him, but what if he’d lied? Her heart plummeted like a stone. What if he was teaching her a lesson? A horrible and despicable one, but a lesson in his eyes all the same?
He might have been an expert lover, and he might have made her blood zing, but it was still a fact that Dominic Van Straten was completely out of Sophie’s sphere. What would demonstrate that fact more completely than sending the ‘poor little working class girl’ an expensive coat in payment for her ‘services’ at the hotel the other night? Just because he’d made love to her, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t still arrogant, and even possibly cruel.
Her first instinct was to fold the coat back into its expensive packaging and mail it right back to him, and even as the thought came into her mind Sophie found herself arranging the coat back into the box in a fever of indignation and rage. Reading the card again, she looked for an address and found it. Surprisingly, it wasn’t his office address, but his home one: Mayfair, London. Where else would a property developer billionaire live?
Seeing that there was a telephone number included beneath the address, Sophie went to the telephone in the hallway with thumping heart. If he thought she’d given him a piece of her mind on Friday, he’d better watch out! What did he think she was? Some kind of loose woman who’d gladly accept his no-doubt insulting gift of an expensive coat without a murmur? If he thought that, then he had a very big shock in store!
‘Mr Van Straten’s residence,’ announced a cultured male voice at the other end of the line.
‘I’d like to speak to Mr Van Straten,’ Sophie announced as a flood of adrenaline shot through her system and almost made her sway. He was probably conveniently out.. or if he was at home no doubt he would instruct his butler, or whoever it was that had answered the phone, to tell her he wasn’t available as soon as he knew it was Sophie.
‘Whom shall I say is calling?’ the voice at the other end came back.
Licking her suddenly dry lips, Sophie stared blankly at the picture on the wall, a well-known Degas print of ballerinas at the barre, going through their exercises. Shocked that he was actually at home, she told herself to keep her head and not give way to shrillness of any kind when she told him what he could do with his expensive gift. He’d already accused her of being a ‘shrew’ and a ‘fishwife,’ and if he insulted her with any such labels one more time, he’d rue the day!
‘Sophie Dalton.’
She’d been about to explain that she was a friend of his assistant, Diana, then had thought, How ridiculous! If Dominic didn’t condescend to remember her after what had occurred between them on Friday night then he was even more arrogant and despicable than she’d thought, and therefore even less deserving of any respect.
‘Sophie. What a pleasant surprise!’
His voice shocked her into silence. It was disconcertingly familiar, and much too compelling to ever be taken lightly. On the telephone, his tone was sexier and much more troubling to her peace of mind than it had a right to be. It made her remember him asking seductively, ‘Are you ready for me Sophie?’ Hot embarrassed colour surged into her face at the recollection.
‘I wish I could say I felt the same, Dominic, but I can’t. About the coat you sent me, I—’
‘I trust it’s the right size? I confess I had to guess your measurements, but then I do pride myself on being uncannily accurate when it comes to such things.’
He meant women…and their bodies. Was she just one of many female bodies he had undressed? Furious and hurt at the same time, she had to take a moment to compose herself. ‘Whether it’s the right size or not doesn’t concern me! You had no right to send it to me in the first place. Especially when I know you are only trying to insult me!’
‘Insult you?’ Dominic said something beneath his breath that she didn’t quite catch, and Sophie smoothed her hand down over her hip and reminded herself to keep her temper.
‘Yes, insult me! Why else would you send it? You were making some sleazy point, no doubt, to thank me for services rendered. Well, you know what you can do with your expensive cashmere, don’t you? I’ll be mailing the coat straight back to you tomorrow! Just as soon as I can get to the Post Office.’
‘My chauffeur accidentally splashed your coat with cold muddy water, Sophie…remember? I was merely trying to make amends by sending you a new one. Anything else is completely a figment of your oversensitive imagination.’
‘Why make amends now, when you seemed not to care one jot about my situation on Friday, at Diana’s wedding? Just because I was foolish enough to sleep with you, Dominic, it doesn’t mean I’m a complete fool! I don’t want your expensive gifts, do you hear? Whatever your reasons for sending me the coat, I have no intention of accepting it, or being beholden to you in any way.’
Dominic didn’t know many women who would be insulted by the gift of a very expensive coat from one of the country’s top exclusive stores. No—he had to rephrase that.
