Modern Romance May 2017 Books 5 – 8. Louise Fuller

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      The minutes passed so slowly they were half an hour in with three more to go.

      He picked up a phone and soon Hannan appeared; Gabi’s lips tightened as she scooped up Lucia and took her away, and soon it was just the two of them.

      ‘I thought you wanted to see her.’

      ‘I don’t need to stare at her for the entire visit to love her. I will call for refreshments for you.’

      They made small talk as they waited for afternoon tea to arrive.

      ‘Bernadetta is being weird,’ Gabi said. ‘She won’t take my calls.’

      He just shrugged and then told her his news. ‘I have withdrawn the Grande Lucia from sale.’

      ‘I thought the contracts were signed.’

      ‘No. Bastiano returned to the Grande Lucia for a visit and apparently some jewellery was stolen from his suite—your friend apparently.’

      Gabi wasn’t going to blush or apologise for Sophie. She just gave a shrug.

      ‘He’s withdrawn his offer.’

      And now Gabi rolled her eyes because Alim would be here in Rome so much more.

      Her desire was safer from a distance.

      Arabian teas, coffees and pastries arrived and as the maid poured Alim declined.

      ‘Enjoy,’ Alim said to Gabi as the maid left.

      ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘Bed,’ Alim answered. ‘I read that you should try and sleep when the baby does.’

      Her mouth twisted into an incredulous smile when she thought of the hours she had paced the floor with her baby and snatched twenty-minute naps on the sofa.

      He had not a clue!

      ‘Half an hour of fatherhood and you’re already tired?’ Gabi accused.

      ‘Months of fatherhood, had I but known,’ Alim corrected. ‘And months of abstinence, apart from one night in the desert.’

      And he took her back in her mind to where she had been trying to avoid going.

      Gabi looked ahead and tried not to think of her time in his bed.

      And Alim, as he stepped into the bedroom where he had had so much planned, instead was incensed by her words.

      Pride perhaps was at fault, but there was also this need to know not that Lucia was his but that Gabi was his—that he was and always would be her one and only.

      He started to undress and then remembered he should be dressed for the planned proposal and standing when Gabi inevitably walked in.

      Surprise!

      Yet she did not walk in.

      Alim rarely got angry, he rarely cared enough to be so.

      And he was also jealous.

      Gabi had riled him.

      On what should be the most romantic of days she spoke of other men!

      Oh, Alim wanted to prove her wrong. There would never be others.

      So, instead of the plans he had made, Alim opened the bedside drawer and there they lay his collection of diamonds; he selected the best, then he closed the drapes and turned off the lights.

      He would not be brought to his knees until Gabi was.

      And so he walked out.

      She sat, drinking tea.

      Her foot was tapping, Alim noticed, but apart from that she seemed calm, like a guest sitting in the foyer, waiting for her car to arrive, or to be told that her suite was now ready.

      Gabi was not calm.

      She had been fighting with herself not to follow him in.

      To ‘Keep Calm and Drink Tea’, as suggested.

      Yet her hands were shaking and her desire was fierce and she ached for these visiting hours to be over.

      For an imaginary nurse to come in and ring a bell so that she could leave.

      Then he walked out.

      The jacket was off, the tie gone and his shirt half-undone, as if he had been undressing and had suddenly remembered something.

      Indeed he had. ‘There will be others?’ Alim questioned, and even though his voice was dark it held a slightly mocking edge, for he was sure there could be no other.

      And what was said now would define their future, Gabi knew.

      She would not be Fleur, sitting in the foyer of this very hotel and ignored. She would not be his mistress and make love and then not make a fuss when he returned to his wife.

      How bloody dare he?

      And so she met his eyes and she played a very dangerous game with a sultan who was already not best pleased.

      ‘Maybe just one other,’ Gabi said. ‘Perhaps I will find the love of my life.’

      ‘What if you have already found him?’ Alim said.

      ‘How can I have,’ Gabi countered, ‘when he speaks of a future wife?’

      And she found out then just how strong she was because now she could look him in the eye and tell him things she would once never have dared. Now she stood her ground and it felt firm beneath her feet, for she was resolute.

      She watched as he reached into his pocket and beside her teacup he placed a stone.

      A magnificent one.

      ‘You shall be kept in splendour,’ Alim said, and when every other woman would reach for the stone, she had the nerve to take a sip of her tea. ‘Never again speak of other men. Now,’ Alim said by way of parting, ‘come to bed.’

      She would not succumb.

      Gabi stood, walked across the lounge and looked out of the window.

      A bridal car was pulling up outside the church further down the street and she watched as a bride was helped out and her dress arranged.

      The little flower girl stood patiently as Gabi’s heart impatiently beat for the day that it might be her.

      Never the bride.

      She had never been able to envisage herself as one.

      And now she knew why.

      A mistress was all she would ever be.

      No!

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