"Not till you get your clothes." He frowned at the woman. "Maybe we'd better talk to the owner."
Stiffly, she informed him, "I am the owner–Madame Bonet–and I assure you, sir, that I have nothing that the young"—she nearly choked on the word—"lady would be interested in."
"Well, you never can tell. Bring out what you've got, and we'll decide."
"But you don't understand, monsieur. We don't cater to"—she lowered her voice to a scornful whisper—"quadroons. I will appreciate your taking your business elsewhere."
"She's not a quadroon. And I don't think you know whose money we're spending here. Does the name Ned Ralston mean anything to you?"
"Of course," she said uneasily. "He owns this building."
"That's what I thought. Now will you please do as I ask, or would you like Mr. Ralston to come in so you can refuse him personally?"
She paled. "That won't be necessary. I'll be glad to help you." She fled back through the curtains.
Raven started to protest again, but Steve waved her to silence. "She'll break her neck serving you now, so relax."
"But what did she call me? What is a quadroon?"
"A woman of color. One quarter Negro. Your skin is darker than most, and she made a mistake. So you see?" He winked. "I told you no one would guess you're half Indian."
"But—"
"Relax. I'm going to go have a beer or two, and when I come back I'm sure I won't even know who you are."
And when he returned a few hours later, he almost didn't.
Raven was standing in the middle of the pink and white room but easily outshone the magnificent surroundings. Her hair, washed and styled in ringlets by a coiffeur hastily summoned by Madame Bonet, shone like the raven's wing for which she was named. She was wearing a pardessus—a jacket—of green silk taffeta over a separate skirt. A satin ribbon of the same color adorned the jacket and the flounce of the skirt. The upper arms were embellished with a false cuff of net with fringe, and she was carrying a lace scarf and a parasol to match the fabric and lace edging of her costume.
"Do you like it, monsieur?" Madame Bonet rushed forward to dust away a tiny piece of lint from Raven's skirt. "The vivid green color is the latest from Paris and popular because of the recent invention of aniline dyes.
"Mademoiselle found several things she liked," she hastened to tell him. "There are a few alterations to be made, but I have two of my best girls working on them now."
"Have everything finished and delivered to the hotel by tonight and send the bill to Mr. Ralston. Here's a deposit." He threw down some bills.
Raven had already left the shop, wanting to enjoy the beautiful blue and gold day dressed in such a fine outfit.
Steve tipped his hat and grinned. "Oh, she's not his mistress, she's his daughter. But I'll be glad to give him your message."
This time, Madame Bonet did swoon with shock.
And Steve just continued on his way.
Simply Heaven
by
Patricia Hagan
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SIMPLY HEAVEN
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Meet Patricia Hagan
and Daisee
Patricia Hagan is the New York Times bestselling author of 42 novels and over 2500 short stories. Her books have been translated into 15 languages, and she has made promotional trips to England, France, Italy, Greece, Norway, Ireland, Spain, Germany, Denmark, and Croatia.
A graduate of the University of Alabama, majoring in English, she has taught creative writing and been a guest speaker at writers' conferences across the U.S. She is also an award-winning former Radio/TV Motorsports journalist, having covered NASCAR stock car racing. She has also traveled extensively as a travel writer, reviewing cruise ships all over the world.
Table of Contents
Cover
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Excerpt from SAY YOU LOVE ME by Patricia Hagan
Excerpt from STARLIGHT by Patricia Hagan
Excerpt from SIMPLY HEAVEN by Patricia Hagan
Meet the Author