One Night with Prince Charming (Aristocratic Grooms #2)(22)
Author: Anna DePalo

Pia lifted her eyebrows.

Victoria walked back up the aisle so the ceremony could resume, and Pia returned the bouquet to its position on the pedestal. Someone kept a firm hold on Finola.

Everything proceeded without a hitch after that. Much to Hawk’s regret, though, Pia did not retake her seat next to him but chose to remain positioned near the front of the assembled guests. He couldn’t blame her, though, in light of all the recent excitement.

Once the ceremony was over, however, he was able to approach her at the indoor reception, where he spotted her standing with her back to him near the open bar.

“Drink?” he said as he came up behind her.

She turned around at his query, looking as if she was amused in spite of herself. “For some reason, I’m experiencing a sensation of déjà vu.”

Hawk grinned. “I thought so.” He chucked her under the chin. “You acquitted yourself splendidly today.”

“With your help. Victoria seems to think you went above and beyond the call of duty.”

“It was the least I could do,” he demurred with a touch of self-mockery. “I was the one who got you involved with the crazy bride.”

She smiled. “Only with the best of intentions.”

Hawk felt momentarily dazzled by Pia’s smile. She could light up a room with it, he thought. Give her a wand and she could sprinkle some glittering fairy dust, no problem.

He pushed aside the whimsical thought, and for Pia’s benefit, he shook his head in resigned amusement. “A doggy attendant dressed up to match the bride? Who’d ever have thought it?”

“You’d be surprised,” Pia returned. “I’ve even seen a pet pig march up the aisle.”

“Well, Finola is no match for Mr. Darcy.”

Pia laughed. “Mr. Darcy would agree with you, I’m sure.”

They discussed the wedding at that point, with Pia remarking on how beautiful Victoria had looked, and Hawk commenting on some of the faces he recognized among the guests.

“This is a working party for me,” Pia said eventually, as if to remind herself as much as him.

“I suppose you’ll have to stay until the very end then?” he remarked.

She nodded. “I’ll have to make sure everything is wrapped up.”

Hawk looked through the reception room’s paned windows and noted it was already dark.

“How are you getting back home?” he asked, guessing that she hadn’t come in her own car because she’d had to borrow the services of his earlier.

She lifted a shoulder, and said simply, “I’ll order a car service.”

His eyes met hers. “I’ll stick around then.”

“I…i-it’s not necessary.”

“I know.” He smiled. “Nevertheless, I’m at your disposal.”

It wasn’t until a few hours later that he was able to make good on his offer. He noted that Pia still managed to look as edible as dessert by the end of the evening, even though she also seemed drained.

They drove back to Manhattan mostly in silence, content to observe the darkened world whizzing by after a long day—and comfortable enough in each other’s company not to make forced conversation.

When Hawk pulled up in front of Pia’s building, however, he glanced over, only to notice that she had fallen asleep.

Her head was leaning back against the headrest, her lips parted.

He turned off the ignition and then stopped, taking a moment to study her face. For once, she looked unguarded.

Her blond hair had a fine, wispy quality, and he knew from experience that it was as soft as a baby’s. Her eyebrows were delicately arched over eyes that he knew were large and expressive and a fascinating, changeable mix of amber hues.

Hawk let his gaze roam down to her lips. They held the sheen of a shimmery pink lipstick, but they needed no embellishment for their natural charm as far as he was concerned. He’d tasted them earlier in the day, because the temptation had been too great.

He debated for a moment, and then, unable to help himself, leaned over, tilted her chin toward him with a light touch and pressed his lips to hers.

He rubbed his lips against hers, feeling the tingle of sensation, and then gently worked her lower lip with a small suck.

Dessert hadn’t been nearly as good.

Pia’s eyelashes fluttered. She opened her eyes and lifted her head.

Hawk pulled back, and then gave her a lopsided smile.

“Wh-what?”

“I was awakening Sleeping Beauty with a kiss,” he responded in a low voice. “Isn’t that the fairy-tale heroine that you are today?”

She blinked, coming further awake. “Unintentionally. This isn’t a good idea.”

He glanced past her and then back down again, keeping his expression innocent. “Did you prefer not to be awakened when we arrived at your apartment? Should I have driven straight on to my place instead?”

“Absolutely not,” she said, though in a halfhearted tone.

He smiled for a moment before turning to open the driver-side door.

He reached her side of the car in time to help her alight, though she hesitated for a second before placing her hand in his.

By now, he was used to the sizzle of any physical contact between them.

“Good night, Your Grace,” she said when she’d gotten out of his car, her eyes meeting his.

He let his lips drift upward. “Good night, Pia.”

He watched as she made her way into her building, the doorman looking up from his television set to acknowledge her.

Only after she’d disappeared from view did he get back into his car.

As he pulled into traffic, Hawk acknowledged that he was pushing the boundaries with Pia. But, he told himself, he knew what the limits were.

Or so he hoped.

Seven

“Ducal Gofer. Gazillionaire bridal assistant, the Duke of Hawkshire…”

Pia gritted her teeth as she read Mrs. Jane Hollings’s gossip column in The New York Intelligencer.

“What’s wrong?” Belinda asked.

Pia had just sat down at a table in Contadini, where she, Belinda Wentworth and Tamara Langsford—née Kincaid—were having one of their Sunday brunch dates.

“Mrs. Hollings has written about me and Hawk in her gossip column,” Pia said as she scrolled down the article on her smartphone. “Apparently she received notice that Hawk helped me handle some wedding escapades last night.”

“That was fast,” Belinda commented.

“Well, it’s in her online column,” Pia responded, looking up. “Her regular print one will appear in Monday’s paper, where no doubt I will be able to savor the joy of having my name appear in print with—” her lips pulled down “—the Duke of Hawkshire’s.”