No More Lonely Nights Read Free Page B

insisted on sending their children away at early ages. On the other hand, she wondered if her own childhood had been any better. True, she had remained at home with Solange, but Nanny had actually raised her. Solange had seemingly had a thousand more interesting things to do with her time. Dominique wondered if Hampton’s wife was the same way. He hadn’t mentioned her even once.
    “Have your children been to Egypt yet?” Dominique asked. She didn’t want to come right out and ask about his wife. Not a second time.
    “Last year. They were fascinated, but quite put out that I couldn’t spend more time with them. Unfortunately, our governments were in the midst of negotiating the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty.” Egypt had been a British protectorate since the turn of the century, but the treaty provided for the gradual evacuation of British troops from the country. Egyptian president Gamal Abdel Nasser wanted the evacuation to be immediate rather than gradual; the British wanted a longer transition. However, both sides had agreed that the British would be granted permission to use their Ismailia base on the Suez Canal in times of war.
    “Not
our
governments. I hold a French passport,” Dominique reminded him.
    “Yes, of course.” Hampton looked back down at the last page of her file. “You’ve a strong French accent, but it appears that your English is quite perfect.”
    Dominique’s eyes met his steadily. “I hope the accent is not a problem?”
    Hampton looked disconcerted. “Certainly not! Charming, in fact,” he said hastily.
    She tilted her chin up and nodded approvingly, as though she couldn’t possibly have conceived of a different answer. British and American men often commented on the allure of her accent, and she had dated her fair share of both nationalities.
    Hampton cleared his throat and pointed at the papers in front of him. “I see your home is in Garden City. Lovely place. Why do you want to work here?”
    Dominique dimpled mischievously, her irrepressible frankness rising to the surface even in a job interview. “To escape my mother!”
    Hampton laughed at the unexpectedly honest answer, and Dominique laughed with him. He was handsome when he relaxed, she noted. And he seemed nice, despite the constraint of his demeanor. She liked him, she decided.
    Hampton leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his desk. For the first time, he concentrated his gaze on Dominique. “How does your mother feel about your working here?”
    She met his eyes with a defiant expression. “She is not particularly pleased.”
    Hampton raised his eyebrows. He didn’t need any trouble with the European community. The British already had their hands full with Egyptian unrest.
    Dominique sensed his misgivings, but offered no further explanation. She knew she was well qualified for the job and was certain he would give her a chance. And, if he didn’t, it wasn’t a serious matter. She could always go back home, dreary though the prospect was.
    Hampton looked back down at her application and studied it for a moment. “Avallon… Avallon…” he murmured. Then his head snapped up, a light of recognition in his eyes. “Avallon—as in Avallon Cotton?” he asked.
    “Yes, of course. I thought you knew.” Dominique was a little surprised. Her surname was usually recognized at once by Europeans in Egypt.
    Hampton, as flustered as his British self-possession would allow, automatically stood in a gesture of respect. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t at once recognize…”
    Dominique remained seated. She looked up at him, amused. “It doesn’t matter. It has nothing to do with my qualifications for the job.”
    “Quite”—Hampton faltered, as though thrown off balance by her carefree attitude—“but surely you understand that it may be a bit awkward to have you as a subordinate.”
    Dominique’s eyes danced. “And surely there are members of the British aristocracy who work under you.”
    Hampton smiled with