Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sometimes fantasies do come true.
~ Zayne
“SO, WHAT WAS the biggest highlight of the night, Red?”
Chloé glanced up at the front of the SUV, where Zayne was eyeing her in the rearview mirror.
Still floating high from her incredible night, she hadn’t been able to stop talking since she’d gotten in the car. She still couldn’t believe she’d done it. That she’d not only created a top menu, but that her and her team had managed to pull off an absolutely flawless dinner service.
From the appetizers, to the mains, to the beautiful desserts that had hit each table, Chloé had been proud of each and every plate that had gone out tonight. Then, to top it all off, her fathers had offered her a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that she still couldn’t actually believe.
Paris…
They wanted her to live and work in Paris.
“Red?”
“Sorry.” She grinned as she refocused on Zayne’s smiling eyes. “Hmm, what was the biggest highlight?”
“Yeah, I mean, you just kicked ass tonight. There has to be something that stuck out.”
“I think the biggest thing is the fact that I pulled it off.” She shook her head and laughed.
“I still can’t believe that I served my meals to everyone tonight.
That’s a chef’s dream, and I got to live it.
” She let out a happy sigh and rested her head against the window.
“I might have to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake. ”
Ethan’s eyes found hers. “If you give us five minutes we’ll be home, and I’m sure we can think of a much more pleasurable way to make sure you’re awake than pinching you.”
Zayne winked. “Well, that all depends on where you’re being pinched.”
She laughed and settled in for the rest of the trip. As they pulled up at the gates of the estate and Ethan drove inside, Chloé looked out at the grassy grounds surrounding the pool and thought back to the night she’d walked across them…naked.
A shiver raced through her body as she remembered what had come after that, and as they all climbed out, she wondered what he had in store for them tonight—because with Ethan, you never could tell.
Chloé made her way up to the front door, and when Isla opened it, she did a double take.
Gone was the flawless modern-day woman in the black pants and tailored shirt who looked after the estate, and in her place was a beautiful lady in a high-waisted gown with full skirts straight out of the eighteenth century.
Her inky-black hair that was usually tied back in a slick ponytail fell down around her shoulders, and as she looked at Chloé, she did a slight curtsy.
“Your Grace, if you’ll come with me tonight, I’ll take you to your chambers and get you ready for the evening.”
What in the world?
Thrown completely off guard, Chloé glanced over her shoulder to see a crooked smile tugging at Zayne’s lips, then Ethan leaned in and said by her ear, “Welcome to your special celebration…Duchess.”
Duch— Oh.
She understood now. The book. Zayne’s fantasy.
The earl, the viscount, and the duchess.
Chloé looked between the two of them, and suddenly everything other than what was about to happen next up and vanished. The two of them had clearly gone to great lengths to set this up for her to celebrate, and now it was time for her to slip into her role.
“Thank you, gentlemen. If you’ll both excuse me, I need to go and freshen up for the evening.”
“Be our guest.” Ethan gestured to the elevator. “I believe you’ll find everything you need waiting for you in your room. Isla will be more than happy to assist you.”
Assist me? Assist me with what?
“When you’re ready, the viscount and myself will be waiting for you in the parlor.”
Zayne walked over to the elevator and opened the door, and just as she was about to step inside, he winked at her. “We’ll see you soon, Duchess.”
Chloé bit down on her lower lip to hold back her laugh. This was so fun and so very naughty. She’d known Zayne had read that book after she moved in. She’d seen it on the nightstand. But she’d never expected this .
As the elevator made its ascent, she looked over at Isla. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you…Your Grace.”
Wow. Ethan must’ve told her not to break scene, because damn, she was really selling it.
When they reached the top floor, where their bedroom was located, Chloé stepped out, and what she saw next had her catching her breath.
There, spread out across the foot of their massive Spanish-style four-poster bed, was a beautiful eighteenth-century gown. She dropped her bag on the floor and rushed over to it, running her hand over the sumptuous materials.
The gown was a silvery taupe color embossed with velvet and had the most beautiful sheen to it, and Chloé just knew it would shimmer in the light.
It was paired with a stunning creamy brocade with florals and vines woven in gold and silver.
She traced her fingers over the intricate patterns.
The bodice had a square neckline that would show off her…
womanly assets to their best advantage, and was trimmed with gold braid that followed the seamlines down the skirt fronts to give it—and her—lovely, elegant lines.
Chloé picked up the skirts and ran them through her fingers, the silky material sensual to the touch. The feminine half sleeves that lay out on the duvet were trimmed with cascading lace at the elbow.
Where did someone even get a gown like this? It was absolutely exquisite.
“Your Grace?”
At the sound of her “title,” Chloé looked over to Isla standing beside the bed with a white garment draped across her arms. She walked over to get a closer look, and that was when she realized it was a shift.
It was snowy white and made of the very finest linen, and it had a discreet trim of lace around the neckline and cuffs.
“If you’d like to shower, I’ll be waiting to assist you with your gown when you’re done.”
That made sense. Isla was going to help her get into her dress. She hadn’t looked at the back but she was guessing it was all grommets and ties. Something she wouldn’t be able to secure—or unfasten—on her own.
“Thank you, I’d appreciate that.”
Isla handed the shift over, and Chloé headed for the en suite. Once she was inside and the door was shut, she realized she didn’t have anything to put under the shift.
That was when she remembered one of the main reasons she loved reading these historical romances—the women didn’t wear anything underneath their shift.
That’s right. No panties, no drawers, no lacy thongs. She would be bare, and as a cheeky smile crossed her lips, she thought, All the better for her earl and viscount to touch me.
CHLOé WASN’T SURE how long she’d been up in the room, but by the time she had showered, styled her hair, and gotten dressed, she figured it had been a good forty, forty-five minutes.
Isla had been a godsend with the ties at the back of the gown, and Chloé couldn’t help but think how exhausting it must’ve been to have to do this every night of her life back in this time period.
Isla gave her a beautiful handheld fan, and after barely saying a word since they’d been up there, Chloé couldn’t take it anymore.
“Well, what do you think? Do I fit the part?”
Isla’s usually serious lips twitched. “I think the earl and the viscount are going to be very happy to see you.”
A hot flush crept up Chloé’s neck, and she wondered if one of the reasons women carried fans around with them back then was to hide behind them every time something scandalous was said.
It wasn’t like you could miss the way her skin had just turned scarlet, not with how much of it was on very prominent display.
“Then I better not keep them waiting.”
“No, Your Grace.”
Chloé walked over to the elevator, the heavy skirts swishing around her legs as she went. She stepped inside and shut the door, and as it began its descent, she looked down at her neckline and giggled.
Okay, if I’m not careful, I just might fall out of this.
When she reached the ground floor, she stepped out and remembered what Ethan had said: “When you’re ready, the viscount and myself will be waiting for you in the parlor.”
A.k.a. the living room.
It was a quiet fall night, and the lights were set to dim, as Chloé made her way across the foyer and down the hall to the living room.
She could hear the distinct sound of a fire crackling as she got closer, and when she finally stepped into the room, the sight that greeted her set her heart to pounding.
Zayne was lounged back against one end of the antique sofa in the room wearing a loose white linen shirt, tan breeches, and black boots that ended just below his knees.
His legs were sprawled apart in a most indecent way, and the neckline of the shirt fell wide, exposing his muscled chest. His dark hair looked as though he’d run his fingers through it when he’d gotten out of the shower, and he looked every inch the sinful viscount.
Chloé’s thighs tightened as her pulse kicked up, and her eyes shifted to the other man in the room.
Ethan stood by the fireplace, his hand braced on the mantel as he stared into the flickering flames. He was dressed in a much more distinguished manner than Zayne, but that certainly didn’t take away from his appeal.
He wore similar boots and breeches, but instead of a loose white linen shirt, his was tucked in under a short-fronted navy tailcoat jacket with a fitted waistcoat.
He had a gold pocket watch attached to the outfit and a top hat that sat on the mantel, and he very much embodied the part of the rakish earl.
At the sound of her approach, both men looked in the direction of the door, and when their eyes caught on her, the expression in theirs had flames of wicked desire coursing through her body.
“My lords,” she said, slipping into her role with surprising aplomb. “Thank you for agreeing to wait for me this evening. I hope I haven’t kept you long.”
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