Her Foreign Affair (23 page)

“Yes, the master bedroom in particular needs a good airing out. Send up a bellman with the key. Our luggage is still on the cart. Thank you.”

That out of the way, Court wrapped both arms around Randi who looked up at him with a brow lifted in inquiry.

“I appreciate you not carrying on,” he said and drew her closer. Unaccountably, he felt a bit embarrassed and tried to hide it by burying his face in her hair.

“Does this happen to you often?”

“No, no, God no.” Whatever had happened in the past, he’d never confess to. He certainly hadn’t sanctioned it this time. “Please, continue to remain calm while we sort it out.”

“Why shouldn’t I? The cow in the other room is making enough noise for three.”

Court winced. She’d spoken loud enough for Catherine to hear as she came stomping from the bedroom, dignity sorely hit, and clothing barely pulled on. Certainly not what he remembered of the woman’s usual impeccable, sophisticated look.

“Cow? Did she call me a cow?”

“I wish you hadn’t done that, darling.” It was getting harder not to smile. Though he tended to agree with the sentiment, Catherine actually looked more like a scrawny witch with her dark hair falling down around her shoulders, dress askew, and her menacing eyes flashing in anger and embarrassment.

“You’re right. I apologize. You’d never spend time with a cow, would you?” Randi grinned impishly up at him, and Court did crack a smile.

When the situation called for it, apparently Randi could bring out the inner bitch every woman seemed to have, though he’d never expected it from her. Thankfully, she seemed to see the hint of humor in the situation. Another sign she could most likely handle any social situation to come up in London. Nobody was going to push her around. Court’s satisfaction rose another notch, and he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t expect this, and I have no idea how she made it in here. We’ll be in our new room in a matter of minutes.”

Catherine was trying to slip her shoes on and having little success due to the stockings dangling from her fingers. “And just who are you to be calling me names? You’re nobody in Manhattan!”

“Thank God,” Randi muttered.

“Catherine, this beautiful woman is the mother of my daughter.” Hoping Randi wouldn’t take advantage of the opportunity to break away, he slid his hands up her arms until he cradled her face and held it just so he could look deeply into her eyes. Eyes that flashed fire at him and thrilled him deeply.

“You don’t have a daughter! You told me! I met Drew last year, and you told me he was your only child.” Catherine hit the side of his arm with her overpriced designer high heeled shoes. “You lying, cheating, sack of—”

“I’ve never been more wrong, Catherine,” he cut her off without taking his eyes from Randi. “So very wrong, and I’ve never been happier about it in my life. I have a daughter who is almost as beautiful as her mother.”

“You haven’t heard the last of me!”

“Whoa there, lassie!” A new voice entered the fray, and Court reluctantly tore his gaze from Randi, though he did take a moment to secure her at his side before turning to face the newcomer. Leave it to Attenborough to show up at the least convenient time.

“Larry.” Catherine drew herself up and spoke as if serving tea for the queen. “You might want to avoid this room. I understand the exterminators are on their way up to deal with an unwanted infestation.”

“I don’t get your point, love.” Lawrence Attenborough stood aside and let Catherine swish past him.

“Ask your friend. Then again, you may wish to reconsider doing business with such a despicable worm.” Nose lifted to the ceiling, she left the apartment only to be replaced by the floor butler, a middle-aged man known to Court only as Rupert.

“Mr. Robinson? The front desk rang.”

“Ah yes, Rupert, thank you. Please see that Ms…um…”

“Miller,” Attenborough supplied helpfully, his face a little too gleeful as he checked out Randi from head to toe.

“Right, Ms. Miller. Please find her a spot to recover her dignity, and then I’d like to have a word with you.”

“Yes, sir.” The butler left as quietly as he’d arrived. Good man, Rupert. Unless he’d been the one who’d let Catherine into the apartment in the first place.

“Now, Court, before you explain all the screeching, do introduce me to this very lovely lady.”

Attenborough, who considered himself a lady’s man, had Randi’s hand in his and was lifting it to his mouth to kiss.

“Randi, may I present Lawrence Attenborough, my business contact this week, and no, he’s no relation to Lord Attenborough, although he thinks it would be fun. Larry, this is Randi Ferguson, the mother of my daughter, as I’m sure you heard through the door.”

The man’s eyes flashed and lips quirked at hearing Randi’s name, but chose to comment on the second bit of information instead. “A daughter? Extraordinary. Do tell. How old is this long lost daughter? Surely she can’t be more than a toddler, judging by the age of her mother.”

“Thank you,” Randi said. “You lie and flatter almost better than he does.”

“I don’t lie.” Court stopped just short of snapping the words out. He had more to say but someone knocked on the door at that moment.

“Larry, get the door would you?” Court turned to Randi. “Have your handbag, darling?”

“Yes. I’m ready to go anywhere it doesn’t smell like the perfume counter at Walmart.” Though she was quick with the sarcasm, she did hitch the bag strap over her shoulder.

“Let’s go to our new room, and then we’ll get everything sorted, shall we?”

“Sir?” The bellman, a different one, stepped through the door.

“You have our key?”

“Yes, and Fiske will meet us at the elevator. Allow me to double check…”

“Yes, yes. Very good.” Court waved him in. “I don’t think anything came off the cart, but better to make sure.”

At the door, they found Larry casually leaning against the jamb, and the first bellman missing.

“You sure know how to make an entrance,” Larry said. “Where to now?”

“We’re switching up.” Court nodded out the door. “If you don’t mind…?”

“Oh, I surely don’t mind. In fact, I’ll go along for the ride. I’m curious about your idea of switching up.”

Now this he had to nip in the bud, or they’d never get rid of Larry. The man was a veritable font of gossip, which came in handy when one needed information. Not so handy when one unintentionally provided information. Such as unwanted socialites hiding in one’s bed. “No, really—”

“Sir?”

And wasn’t that just par for the course? This had begun to reach farcical proportions. Employing extreme patience in his tone, he answered the bellman peeking out from the bedroom. “Yes?”

“There’s an open suitcase here…”

Court winced at the flimsy scrap of scarlet fabric dangling from the man’s fingers. “Not ours. Rupert will know what to do with it.”

The man dropped his hand, trying to hide the lingerie behind his back. “Of course. If you’d like to move on toward the elevator, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Right-O.”

“Come right this way.” Larry tucked Randi’s arm in his, effectively tugging her out of Court’s loose embrace. “I’m just dying to hear all about you and Court. When did you meet and make a little girl?”

“Oh, well…” Randi glanced at Court and he shrugged. The whole world would know by breakfast. Someone would be enterprising enough to dig out the story and print it in some rag. They’d find more information, faster than the PI he’d paid off on Friday. Unless, of course, something else more titillating came along. It usually did.

“I haven’t exactly told the world our story. If you recall, until last week I didn’t know there were extra chapters,” he told her.

Larry leaned closer to Randi. “Now I’m positively hooked. You can’t keep me dangling.”

“I’m not sure I should tell you. If it were only Court’s reputation at stake, there’d be no problem, I’m sure.”

Court merely smiled at the small dig. She’d earned it.

“But since I have my daughter’s feelings to consider, I don’t want to see it splashed across the newspapers. How popular is Court in London these days? I haven’t made a point of keeping up with the tabloids.”

“I’m not sure he’s ever made the gossip rags. There’s usually someone with more flash about when our boy goes out on the town.”

Randi nodded. “Good.”

Thankfully, the elevator arrived then, however, Rupert hurried to intercept them.

“Where are you going?” Larry asked. “I’ll escort the lady up while you have your word with Rupert.”

Torn, Court looked to Randi who gave him a small crooked smile with a one-shoulder shrug. With a sigh, he waved them on. “The penthouse. The butler will meet you.”

“The penthouse,” Larry drawled with both brows raised. “Remarkable switch-up. We’ll meet you there.”

Court wasn’t one to gnash his teeth, but this once, he was unquestionably close to grinding his molars to dust. Randi’s hand on Larry’s arm while he waved as the elevator door closed was positively guaranteed to drive a man insane.

“Excuse me. Sir?”

Court turned to the hapless hotel employee. “Did you find a spot for Ms. Miller to freshen up?”

“Yes. Were you not expecting her?”

Resigned to closing this loop, he slid his hands into his pants pockets. “No. Any idea how she got into the apartment?”

“Sorry, no, but I can find out.”

Holding up a hand, Court shook his head. “It’s done now, but please make note for the future. I won’t appreciate surprise visitors. They’ve often been welcome in the past, but no more. The only woman allowed to surprise me will be my wife the next time we’re here.” Rupert had served him well before, and Court suspected the man kept a file on each guest. No detail stood a chance of being overlooked, and this one meant more than anything.

“Very good, sir. And congratulations. In advance.”

Court grinned. “She hasn’t agreed yet, but it’s just a matter of time.”

“Shall I pass a discreet word to the penthouse butler, Fiske?”

“I’ll tell him, but please make sure the rest know.” Any more scenes like the last one and Randi would make a beeline for her California house and never allow him access again. She may have agreed to this week, but he didn’t have a good feeling on anything beyond. He needed this week to show, and convince her, this was it. The big IT. He wanted more than a week with her. Much more. Forever sounded about right.

“Very good. I’ll see that housekeeping takes care of the room.”

“Thank you.” Court pressed the elevator button again. “Have you any recommendations of truly unique jewelers?”

“I’ll get you a list of addresses. Fiske should be able to arrange for them to bring selections to the hotel.”

“Good man, Rupert.” The elevator arrived. “I look forward to it.”

Before she had time to fully appreciate the handsome man hugging her arm to his side, the elevator pinged softly and the door slid open. A distinguished older man dressed in a black suit met them. This experience already surpassed any expectations she’d had, and now shot straight into the surreal realm. “Sir. Madam.”

“You must be Fiske,” Larry said.

She was grateful to him for taking charge of the situation.

Thoroughly overwhelmed by the events so far, Randi was happy to let him do so. Had she been left on her own, she might very well have turned on her heel and headed for home. Not only did she feel unprepared to deal with Court’s women, the hotel was by far the most sophisticated she’d ever stepped foot in as an actual guest. Sure, she’d been to events and balls at hotels, and stayed in some pretty nice regular rooms, but never the very top, the elite luxury suites. Every detail said wealth and power in an oh-so-British way. Somewhat subtle, and clearly modern, the hallway reflected the magnificence of the hotel. The apartment they’d left was better decorated than her house. Now they were met by another butler. Who got escorted to a suite by a butler?

“I’m merely accompanying the lady while Mr. Robinson ties up some loose ends.”

“Very good. If you’ll follow me?”

He led them down a hall and around a corner. Randi’s heels sank into thick carpeting selected to muffle all sound. In fact, she was loath to speak, fearing the butler might shush her like a librarian would. At a paneled door, he waved a card over a keypad, which activated the doors of yet another elevator. With Larry’s hand on her lower back, she stepped inside. Fiske followed, leaving the bellman with the luggage cart in the hall.

“I’ll send the elevator back. Take the luggage to the second level,” the butler told the younger man.

Second level? Weren’t they already on, like, the fiftieth floor? Randi glanced at Larry who merely smiled back. Not bad, in a floppy hair, Hugh Grant-cute kind of way. Careless bachelor, playboy, never-want-to-grow-up type. Not her style at all. All right, so he wasn’t Court.

“Tip-top service here. Court must like you. Then again, I’m still waiting to hear the story about this daughter. Tell me, she can’t be much older than five, can she?”

“She can,” Randi answered shortly.

“No.” Larry held a hand to his chest as if in shock, his summer lake blue eyes wide with mock surprise. A man who obviously smiled often, laugh lines fanned out from his eyes, the curves beside his mouth a bit pronounced. He looked and acted as if he were an old school chum of Court’s. Highly possible, she supposed. All those years ago she and Court had kept to themselves, rarely meeting with groups at the pub. Time had been far too precious, and they’d wanted to be alone. “Court’s a very naughty chap and never breathed a word of it to his oldest friends. I’ll have to severely reprimand him over this.”

The elevator doors slid open again and Fiske stepped out, graciously waving them into a sleek, modern-looking suite decorated in smoky blue and soft shades of silver and crisp white. Soothing and minimalist at the same time, it smacked of big dollars. Once the elevator was empty, he pressed a button on the wall, and the elevator closed up again. “You can send the lift down for guests from here. The intercom will screen them for you.”