Desert Wedding. Alexandra Scott

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      A wonderful room. A delight to her artistic senses. Such calm and simplicity was a salve for her ruffled feelings. Subdued gentle colours, sofas covered in natural raw silk, light walls. Two glazed oriental vases—man-size—in dense blue and white were the only touches of colour in the room. At least...

      Her eye was drawn to an alcove where, carved in polished black stone, was a head. Ancient Egyptian, she would have thought, and catching marvellously well that haughty bearing that so many of the local people seemed to have.

      Intrigued and momentarily forgetting her companion, she took a step forward until a movement in the mirror behind the sculpture startled her and she flicked a glance to the reflection of the man behind her. And he, there was little doubt, was intent on her.

      He was tall—she tried to be objective—taller than she had at first realised—at least six-two—slim but somehow giving an impression of power, though that could have had something to do with his total confidence. Not exactly good-looking—too contained. Except... She began at once to shift her ground. Except for the eyes; that luminous grey was unusual, and when fringed with the longest sooty lashes that she had ever seen...

      Still he was looking at her, one slender eyebrow raised assessingly so she blushed, one hand going up to fiddle with the rope of amber beads that she was wearing, the other to push the fall of thick hair from her forehead. ‘What a delightful room.’ She gave a tiny self-conscious laugh as she moved away, ‘Have you been here long?’

      ‘Eighteen months.’ An outstretched hand encouraged Georgia towards one of the sofas, while he perched on the arm of a chair opposite. ‘Now, I did promise you a drink, so what would you like? Coffee? Gin and tonic? Or...or what? I think we have quite a range. I usually have a sandwich about now too.’

      ‘Oh...oh, I couldn’t.’

      ‘Couldn’t what?’ Not giving her a chance to reply, Nathan looked over her head and spoke to someone out of her sight. She imagined it was the servant who had been hovering since their arrival. A few words were exchanged before he reverted to English. ‘It’s all organised. Ismail will rustle up some coffee, but, in the meantime—’ getting up, he crossed to a cabinet and she heard the clink of glass ‘—what do you say to a gin and tonic?’

      ‘Fine.’ It was her own voice, but shadowy and distant—a reflection, perhaps, of how she was feeling. It was as if her own fairly firm decision-making capacity had been removed. ‘But very weak, please.’ She must not let him think that she couldn’t assert herself.

      ‘Couldn’t be weaker.’ He handed her a glass, placed a table conveniently close and sat opposite, taking a swallow of his own drink while managing to keep his attention firmly fixed on her face. Leaning forward, he put his own glass onto the tiled table which separated the settees. ‘Tell me about yourself.’ He leaned back, his long legs stretched sideways, crossed at the ankle.

      She determined to be guarded; he struck her as the kind of man to whom it might be too easy to unburden oneself. ‘That might take some time and could be extremely boring.’

      ‘Well—’ he grinned, teeth gleaming white against tanned skin ‘—it is Sunday, after all. We have plenty of time—and I promise not to be the least bit bored by what you say. But you don’t have to go too far back. What brings you out here to Raqat, for instance? That seems a reasonable place to begin.’

      It was a safe enough starting point. ‘I’m here for just a short break. You see...’ Georgia paused to take a sip from her glass—‘I’m in fashion design.’ And minus a job at the moment, though there was no way that she was prepared to admit as much to this seemingly highly successful man. ‘I felt I was running out of steam, was in need of inspiration, and I’ve always had a hankering to see the desert so...’

      Leaning forward, she placed the glass with great care on the table. There was something unnerving about such total concentration, however friendly it seemed. ‘So here I am.’

      ‘Ah...’ He paused while Ismail wheeled in a trolley and placed it conveniently for his employer. ‘Thanks, Ismail. It all looks very good.’

      That was undeniable. The scent of the coffee and the sight of so many tiny savouries reminded Georgia that she had gone without breakfast that morning. She swallowed, accepted the strong fragrant brew when the cup was passed to her and was disinclined to argue when plates of food were offered.

      ‘And the Taylors?’

      ‘What?’ Her mouth was filled with a delicious mix of feather-light pastry, cheese and spinach, which had to be swallowed hastily. She dabbed her mouth with the napkin. ‘I’m sorry...?’ She frowned.

      ‘The flat you’re in. The one directly under this. It belongs to a young man who teaches locally. He and his wife have gone on leave, I understand.’

      ‘Oh, that... Well, that’s not a long story. His uncle is a friend of my father’s, and it was a long-distance arrangement. I offered to rent the flat for the month that the Taylors are away. So far, it seems to be working out pretty well.’

      ‘But I understood...’

      ‘What?’

      ‘No, I’ve obviously made a mistake. Let me fill up your cup.’

      ‘It’s a tiny flat, of course. Just one bedroom—not a bit like this.’ Slightly envious of so much space, she looked about her. Then she helped herself to another asparagus roll—wafer-thin bread, buttered and wrapped round stalks of steamed asparagus. ‘You must have the entire top floor to yourself. At least, I didn’t see another door on the landing.’

      ‘Yes.’ Nathan sat back, frowning as he stirred his coffee. ‘Yes.’ There was an edge of impatience in his voice. ‘You’re right. I have this vast flat to myself. But tell me how you came to get mixed up with the Cannings.’

      ‘Oh, the Cannings.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Entirely by accident, I assure you. I simply walked through the club to order a car to bring me home and he seemed to appear from nowhere. I couldn’t even remember where we had met till he reminded me. And then he persuaded me to have a drink. Oh...maybe I didn’t need such a lot of persuading. I might even have been glad of some company, I don’t know.

      ‘Anyway, no sooner had I put the glass to my lips than his wife appeared and practically accused me of alienating his affections; would you believe it? All in front of a hugely entertained audience. I should think,’ she said moodily, ‘everyone in Raqat will know about it by now.’

      ‘Well—’ he smiled ‘—you mustn’t mind them. Living in such a restricted community means that the most minor drama turns them all into theatre critics. I imagine most of them had to sit on their hands as you delivered your last line.’

      ‘Oh, dear.’ There was a rueful side to her laughter. ‘I wish I hadn’t. But I was, in fact, about to add something worse. I did so want to let her know that poor Grev, married or single, was safe as houses. But before I could I caught sight of his face, saw how crushed, how utterly humiliated he looked and decided to call it a day. Poor man,’ she said.

      ‘Yes, poor man. He has the reputation of being totally under her thumb. Whether or not she has any reason to suspect him I don’t know, but seeing her in full flow... Could anyone blame him?’

      ‘In fact I found it decidedly unpleasant.’ She refused to be persuaded that it had been СКАЧАТЬ