“Close enough. He’s practically a prince.” Victoria laughed. “Although I dare say, your ring puts Kate Middleton’s to shame. Let me see it again, Alessandra.”

Allie extended her left hand, allowing her mother the opportunity to admire her engagement ring. Normally she was happy to show off Julian’s family heirloom, but when Jenny returned to serve the desserts, Allie suddenly felt self-conscious. She tried to pull her hand away but her mother’s grip tightened.

“This was your mother’s ring, Julian?” Victoria asked as Jenny set a chilled dish of lemon sorbet in front of her.

“Oui.” Julian smiled, clearly enjoying the attention. “The diamond has been passed down for many generations, given to the first Marquis Laurent by Louis XIV.”

Victoria’s eyes widened. “Louis XIV? Now there’s a man who knew how to live.”

Allie gaped at her mother. Clearly she’d forgotten the fate of the French monarchy.

“I toured Versailles the last time I was in France.” Victoria sighed and placed her hand over her chest. “The sheer opulence of it! Did you know I used the Hall of Mirrors as my inspiration when decorating our dining room?”

“Ah, yes,” Julian purred. “But everything about Mayflower Place is exquisite in its own right. Just like the women of the house.”

If there was one thing Allie’s mother enjoyed discussing even more than Julian’s lineage, it was the ongoing renovations at their Lake Forest home. With over thirty rooms to choose from, Victoria was never at a loss for a project. And she was always happy to describe them. At length.

Allie took advantage of her mother’s temporary distraction, withdrawing her hand and placing it discreetly in her lap. She smiled up at Jenny as her former classmate set a chocolate sacher torte on the table in front of her. “Thank you.”

Jenny smiled back and then quickly moved around the table, setting plates in front of Richard and Julian before dashing back to the kitchen.

“When the Schweppes owned the estate they played host to Wallis Simpson and the Duke of Windsor,” Victoria boasted. “Were they ever guests of the Laurents?”

Allie knew where this was headed. Whenever the conversation turned to Julian’s homeland, Victoria eventually got around to mentioning her desire to return to France. She’d invited herself to Julian’s family estate more times than Allie could count and she had no desire to watch her add one more to the list.

“I have some news,” Allie said. Her announcement had seemed like the perfect diversion, but as she glanced around the table at three sets of inquiring eyes, she wasn’t so sure. She took a deep breath. “I received a call from the Harris Group on Monday.”

“Is that so?” Victoria asked. Her voice gave no indication of her reaction.

“Seems one of their partners was at the gala the other night.” Allie sat up a little taller. “He was so impressed he offered me a job overseeing their nonprofit events.”

Her father paused with a forkful of apple pie in midair. “You have a job, Alessandra, at Better Start.”

“Of course. And I told Mr. Harris there was no way I could—”

“And once you’re married you’ll join your mother and the other ladies on the board, not hire yourself out to other charities.”

Join the ladies on the board? Where was this coming from? Her father had always been so supportive of her interest in the business side of Ingram Media, encouraged it even. It had actually been his idea for her to spend those two years getting to know the inner workings of each subsidiary. Granted she had no desire to join him in the boardroom, but after the wedding she’d planned to take on a larger role within the overall foundation, not become a figurehead.

“And speaking of the wedding,” Victoria began. Allie felt herself deflate as her mother marched on with her own agenda. “We have some wonderful news.” She paused, beaming at her husband, “Richard, do you want to tell them?”

Her father placed his silverware on his plate, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and leaned back in his chair. “I was able to pull a few strings—”

Victoria jumped in, unable to contain her excitement. “He was able to book the Drake!”

“The Drake Hotel?” Allie could hardly believe it. “When I called they said they were booked for the next eighteen months. They weren’t even adding names to the waiting list.”

Richard cut his eyes at his wife. “There was a cancelation. Rather last minute.” His tone made Allie uneasy.

“How last minute?” she asked.

“The wedding will be December sixth,” he announced.

“What?” Allie couldn’t hide her shock. Her eyes darted from her father to Julian. Somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that her fiancé didn’t seem all that surprised by the new wedding date. “That’s just over two months away,” she sputtered before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “People will think I’m pregnant.”

Victoria’s eyes flicked down to the chocolate decadence waiting on Allie’s plate. “All the more reason to skip dessert, I’d say.”

Allie blanched but tried her best to ignore her mother’s comment. She had bigger issues. Still reeling from the news of her impending wedding date, she turned to Julian. “Are you okay with this?”

He reached for her hand once again, this time brushing his fingers across her wrist. “I’d marry you tonight, Alessandra.” She hadn’t even realized she had a death grip on the fork until she glanced down at Julian’s fingers stroking over hers. When her eyes met his he gave her a comforting smile, but she could have sworn she saw one finger nudge her dessert plate farther away.

The room started to spin, or maybe it was just Allie’s head. She’d barely had a chance to adjust to being engaged. Hell, they hadn’t even had a chance to plan an engagement party yet and now the wedding was ten weeks away? There were so many details. Menus, dresses, flowers. “How can we pull everything together in time?”

“Don’t worry, Alessandra, leave all the planning to me.” Her mother reassured her with a pat to her free hand. “The Gold Coast room at the Drake.” Victoria’s green eyes sparkled with excitement. “We’ve pictured your wedding there since you were a little girl. I used to take you for Princess Tea on Sundays . . .”

Her mother continued chatting but Allie stopped listening. Their reaction to her job offer, the less than subtle dig on her weight, and now this new wedding date; it was all too much. But as overwhelmed as she felt, Allie knew it was all just the tip of the iceberg.

She’d spent the past forty-eight hours trying to block out what had happened in Hudson’s office. But now, just thinking his name made her pulse race a little faster. She knew she’d be in trouble if she allowed her mind to wander any further. She couldn’t let herself picture the dark look in his eyes just before he kissed her. She couldn’t close her eyes and imagine his hands, his lips, his teeth. She couldn’t indulge in the fantasy of his body sliding over hers as . . .

Stop.

She shook her head. It was a mistake, a brief lapse in judgment. Nothing more.

Allie eyed the untouched dessert before pushing it away. Her mother would be pleased. Thanks to the knot in the pit of her stomach, Allie couldn’t have eaten her favorite dessert if her life depended on it.

Chapter Six

Hudson leaned against a mahogany bar spanning the length of a room that looked to still be in the 1920s. The private club was smothering despite its size, with its dark panels and original wood floors polished to a high shine. Luxurious booths anchored the corners of the room, leather wingback chairs tucked in around tables sat center, and the glow from Tiffany lamps set the mood.

It was the kind of place where men sat around drinking single malt scotch, smoking cigars, and discussing the current state of the market.