“You’re not going to hide it by putting it up? What are you wearing tonight?” He weighed the kinked strands.
“I have a vintage Lanvin-Castillo. And no, I don’t want my hair up. I want you to cut it. Off.” New life. New Lauren.
He sucked in a gasp, meeting her gaze in the mirror with disbelief that slowly dawned into awe. “My dear, if I were straight, I would ask you to marry me.”
Lauren smiled as if men fell for her all the time, which was the furthest thing from the truth. “Sir, if I was the least bit interested in marrying again, I’d say yes.”
* * *
Three hours later Enrique was the best friend Lauren had never had. He insisted on coming to her room with one of the stylists from his salon where they helped her dress and put finishing touches on her hair, nails and makeup.
“I cannot wait to tell people I dressed Frances Hammond’s granddaughter. Look at you! It’s like it was made for you.”
Considering it was the last dress made for her grandmother and that she’d also been three months’ pregnant at the time, it didn’t surprise Lauren that it fit so well. The boned bodice that flattened her tender breasts was severely uncomfortable, but it did wonders for her usually modest bosom. She hid her wince and stepped into the matching satin heels. They weren’t as tall as current fashion dictated, but they were stitched to match the amethyst embroidery on the white silk of the dress and positively adorable.
Enrique carefully draped the dark violet stole over her bare shoulders, shaking his head with wonder. “Look at this detailing. What a time to be alive.” He set familiar hands on her hips, taking in the pink and blue pastes studding the elaborate chenille and floss that ended at her waistline. He didn’t seem to notice she was disguising a pregnancy behind the structure of the dress.
Good. The whole purpose of this exercise was to let the father of her baby know about his child’s existence before the rest of the world found out.
As Lauren absorbed the reality that she would be seeing Paolo again, a flood of excitement sent a subtle rush of heat and color under her skin. She saw it happen in the full-length mirror as she turned for a final look. It made her squirm internally with chagrin that she couldn’t stop the reaction. Always, always she reacted to that man and it was so wrong. Her thoughts of him almost tipped into memories of their night in Charleston and the sting in her cheeks ached with shame.
She tried forcing herself back into the cone of denial she’d occupied since The Morning After, but it was tighter than this dress. The lovemaking shouldn’t have happened, but it had. There were consequences. She had to face them.
Which meant facing Paolo.
To combat her reaction at the prospect of seeing him, she took a hard look at her appearance. Where her grandmother had been blond elegance, Lauren was dark with elfin features accentuated by her new hair.#p#????#e#
What would Paolo think? Of the hair and the news?
She never knew what to expect from him. The first time she’d met him, at a bar here in New York five years ago, he’d been warm and admiring. The second time, at her wedding to Ryan half a year later, things had gone so wrong it had been nothing but chilly brush-offs after that. She’d been convinced he hated her and, after his nasty set-down at Ryan’s thirtieth birthday party, she had returned his antipathy. When Ryan had disappeared three months ago, however, she’d made one despairing call from Charleston and Paolo had materialized before her. He’d revealed an incredibly tender side when he’d broken the news about Ryan with sincere regret, so protective of her he had whisked her to the privacy of his nearby penthouse.
Where he had made love to her with unexpected and abject passion.
So would he regard this baby as exciting and wonderful? Or would he be the iceman about it? Would he blame her? Or see her as something he wanted?
Oh God, was that what she was doing? Trying to make herself into something that could fit into his world? Suddenly she saw herself as she was: a rube playing dress-up, sidling out of her element with the intention of taking life by storm without possessing the capacity to actually do it. Her confidence plunged.
“Don’t look so terrified,” Enrique scolded. “You have every reason to hold your head high.”
Lauren couldn’t think of one person who would agree. Not her mother, certainly not her mother-in-law. Paolo hadn’t said a word to her since. That didn’t bode well.
Her stomach rolled with anxious fear and she automatically lifted a protective hand to her abdomen.