she’d stand outside on Old Bond Street where the Duchess of
Cornwall would grant her a warrant for her patronage. Just thinking about
having a royal seal placed on her shopfront still surprised her. It was an
honor and would help remind her of the distance she’d travelled through hard
work and dedication.
It began almost two years ago with two stores opened and
doing well when a well-known stylist she knew by reputation alone phoned and
asked her out for lunch. While they ate, she’d been given a few brief details
about his female client of a certain age who was about to marry for the second
time and wanted to change her public image. She’d offered options and ideas
suitable for a soon-to-be wife who would be in the public’s eye. It had been an
interesting discussion that later became a request for a personal meeting with
the woman in question. It wasn’t until she’d been invited to the stylist’s home
that she discovered the client was actually a lady who was about to become a
member of the royal family. Not that her opinions or ideas had changed
afterward, she stayed true to what she thought was the right direction for this
woman to take.
That had been a big day for Grace. The Duchess had been very
nice and adventurous, willing and ready to step out of the traditional box when
it came to her hats. They had tea and talked about colors, shapes and her
desire for the wow factor. Grace thought it couldn’t get any better and
yet it did. They had started that day with something for the Duchess to wear
for the engagement announcement and hadn’t looked back since. Despite the fun
they’d had creating the ultimate accessory for the older woman to wear, she’d
still been surprised when the telephone call came, notifying her about the honor
soon to be granted to her and her shop.
Once she’d been informed about the granting of this tribute,
people from the warrant office had met with her personally. They told her what
was about to come her way. She was to expect and prepare for the media to
contact her requesting details about the duchess, her purchases and pictures of
her in them, as well as firsthand accounts of their meetings. They also said
she should anticipate an increase in both foot-traffic and purchases at all her
stores, although at first the London store would most likely be the focus.
She was ready for it all, which, unfortunately, now left her
with time to contemplate the gorgeous man who’d made a place for himself in her
mind. Whoever he might be, he held her undivided attention. With a few
sentences, an insult and one seriously sexy body, he’d managed to shake her
equilibrium like no one had ever done before.
Slumping over her desk, Grace felt frustration filling her
from the toes up. Maybe she should try to focus her thoughts of him on less
seductive areas. There was one thing she kept glossing over and it might help
things if she figured it out. There was something oddly familiar about him. She
couldn’t put her finger on it and hadn’t heard his name, but maybe she knew
him. It also appeared he had a twin or sibling there with him.
Grace knew her faults and memory, or lack of one, resided at
the top of the list. This man was so very good-looking she didn’t think it
possible anyone could forget meeting him. Twins, for that matter, were usually
quite memorable. Maybe she wasn’t remembering what he looked like correctly.
She had been fuming at the time, so it was likely a few details had been
skipped over or embellished.
Then again, there was no proof the two men in kilts were
related at all. They’d looked similar, but the hair was very different. Though
superficial, she had a feeling the wild tresses said much about him and
encouraged her fantasies to add an untamed element.
Damn it! It didn’t matter how good-looking he was or
if he had a hundred relatives, she still couldn’t put a finger on why she
thought she knew him.
Having no luck in that direction, she tried again to
Cornwall would grant her a warrant for her patronage. Just thinking about
having a royal seal placed on her shopfront still surprised her. It was an
honor and would help remind her of the distance she’d travelled through hard
work and dedication.
It began almost two years ago with two stores opened and
doing well when a well-known stylist she knew by reputation alone phoned and
asked her out for lunch. While they ate, she’d been given a few brief details
about his female client of a certain age who was about to marry for the second
time and wanted to change her public image. She’d offered options and ideas
suitable for a soon-to-be wife who would be in the public’s eye. It had been an
interesting discussion that later became a request for a personal meeting with
the woman in question. It wasn’t until she’d been invited to the stylist’s home
that she discovered the client was actually a lady who was about to become a
member of the royal family. Not that her opinions or ideas had changed
afterward, she stayed true to what she thought was the right direction for this
woman to take.
That had been a big day for Grace. The Duchess had been very
nice and adventurous, willing and ready to step out of the traditional box when
it came to her hats. They had tea and talked about colors, shapes and her
desire for the wow factor. Grace thought it couldn’t get any better and
yet it did. They had started that day with something for the Duchess to wear
for the engagement announcement and hadn’t looked back since. Despite the fun
they’d had creating the ultimate accessory for the older woman to wear, she’d
still been surprised when the telephone call came, notifying her about the honor
soon to be granted to her and her shop.
Once she’d been informed about the granting of this tribute,
people from the warrant office had met with her personally. They told her what
was about to come her way. She was to expect and prepare for the media to
contact her requesting details about the duchess, her purchases and pictures of
her in them, as well as firsthand accounts of their meetings. They also said
she should anticipate an increase in both foot-traffic and purchases at all her
stores, although at first the London store would most likely be the focus.
She was ready for it all, which, unfortunately, now left her
with time to contemplate the gorgeous man who’d made a place for himself in her
mind. Whoever he might be, he held her undivided attention. With a few
sentences, an insult and one seriously sexy body, he’d managed to shake her
equilibrium like no one had ever done before.
Slumping over her desk, Grace felt frustration filling her
from the toes up. Maybe she should try to focus her thoughts of him on less
seductive areas. There was one thing she kept glossing over and it might help
things if she figured it out. There was something oddly familiar about him. She
couldn’t put her finger on it and hadn’t heard his name, but maybe she knew
him. It also appeared he had a twin or sibling there with him.
Grace knew her faults and memory, or lack of one, resided at
the top of the list. This man was so very good-looking she didn’t think it
possible anyone could forget meeting him. Twins, for that matter, were usually
quite memorable. Maybe she wasn’t remembering what he looked like correctly.
She had been fuming at the time, so it was likely a few details had been
skipped over or embellished.
Then again, there was no proof the two men in kilts were
related at all. They’d looked similar, but the hair was very different. Though
superficial, she had a feeling the wild tresses said much about him and
encouraged her fantasies to add an untamed element.
Damn it! It didn’t matter how good-looking he was or
if he had a hundred relatives, she still couldn’t put a finger on why she
thought she knew him.
Having no luck in that direction, she tried again to
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