by Aria Ford
Gabrielle was extremely grateful for the reprieve and waved goodnight as she left. It had rained earlier and she shivered a bit in the cooler breeze. She was looking forward to a soft bed and warm blankets.
Gabrielle unlocked the door to her apartment and bumped it open with her hip. She leaned against it in relief and was startled when a light flipped on in the living room.
Arran sat before her.
Her mouth fell open with fear and surprise at once. As soon as she recognized his face, her first instinct was to run to him, but she held back. He no longer belonged to her, but to another. She felt her stomach turn and fought the impulse to run for the bathroom. She stood her ground and swallowed hard.
“How did you find me?” she asked him in a level voice. She could feel the tears surfacing and wanted to run to his arms and have him take care of all that was wrong.
“You really need to ask?” he said in a very soft voice. It almost gave Gabrielle chills. “I know you tried to hide, but when you began getting paychecks, well…” he let the sentence go unfinished.
“What do you want from me?”
“Why did you leave?” His eyes stared at her intensely.
“Why did I leave? You must be kidding.”
“No, Gabrielle, I assure you, I am not kidding.”
“You went radio silent and then when you finally bother to send me a message, it’s to say that you’d gotten married. Why on earth would you think I would stick around?”
Gabrielle couldn’t dismiss the rolling tummy a moment longer and ran for the bathroom. When she came out, she had a wet washcloth on her forehead and headed for her bedroom to lie down. Arran could do as he pleased. As it was, he walked around the corner and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
Gabrielle said nothing. She simply held the cloth over her forehead and eyes and tried to breathe deeply.
She felt his hand on her leg and pulled it away as though his touch burned. “Don’t,” she barked at him.
“Gabrielle, I want you to listen to me. I will sit here until you do. I’m not leaving.”
“Suit yourself,” she said stubbornly.
“When I returned home, I found that there had been a crisis in the currency of my country, and more importantly, in my banks. Our country relies very heavily on the value of our money against the dollar and the yen; it was nearly catastrophic. I was completely overwhelmed with resolving our stand and thought you were being quite well taken care of. I also couldn’t risk discussing that business in any communications. It’s all about strategy.”
“That’s hardly the big issue, Arran,” Gabrielle pointed out.
“Allow me to continue. While the current crisis has been resolved, the end is not in sight. It will take close and constant monitoring for some time. That would require my being there, perhaps permanently.”
“So, what are you doing back in the States? Come to clean out your closet?” Gabrielle couldn’t help but be a bit sarcastic to him. She was feeling miserable, in more ways than one.
“Are you going to allow me to complete the story or do you just want to fight me, Gabrielle?”
“I can’t imagine what you could possibly say that would make things better. You have no idea the disaster you’ve caused and how much you’ve hurt me.”
“What do you mean by ‘disaster’?”
Gabrielle pulled the washcloth off her forehead. “I’m pregnant, you ass!” she screamed and slammed a pillow in his face.
Arran blocked the pillow but his face bore a look of shock. “Are you sure?”
“Why do men always ask that? Of course I’m sure. You don’t think I would check with a doctor if I have all the symptoms. Did you just miss where I was a moment ago?”
“Gabrielle this is something I didn’t count on,” Arran said in a calm, but troubled voice.
“Oh, I’m quite sure you didn’t. What are you planning to tell your wife? You’re not getting your hands on this baby, Arran, so don’t even think about it. You go off and have your happily ever after, but this baby is staying with me. You hear me?”
“You just don’t understand. Please, lie quietly and let me talk.” Arran scooted to sit next to her, attempting to lie down beside her and hold her. She pushed him away, but Arran took control and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her next to him. “Shhhh… don’t fight me. Just lie quietly and listen. I was forced to make a decision. My responsibility would demand that I not return to the U.S. and that would mean not coming back to you. So, I had to make a choice. That’s exactly what I did, Gabrielle. I gave up my position to my younger brother, Sinhad. He is now the Sheikh and the head of all the family businesses. I am only an advisor from here on out – although I will look after our American interests. He is the one who got married, Gabrielle. Not me. I couldn’t do that to you.”
Gabrielle whipped the washcloth off her forehead and stared into Arran’s brown eyes. “Are you serious? You gave up your future for me?”
He nodded. “Yes, I did, sweetheart. For you and it seems now, for our child. That’s the part I’m not happy about. If it is a boy, he deserved to inherit my place in the family.”
Gabrielle was hugging him, kissing him all over his face and laughing. “You can build him a kingdom here in the States.”
Arran accepted the kisses and lavished even more in return.
Gabrielle sighed and looked at him. “I thought you were married – that’s what the note said. I never dreamed your position could be transferred. I was so hurt, Arran. I packed up and left without a word.”
“I know. I had a devil of a time finding you.”
“That was intentional,” she smiled and cuddled closer to him.
Chapter Twelve
Gabrielle became Mrs. Arran Muhalla in a garden ceremony beneath blooming dogwood trees. Margie was her matron of honor and Alahan stood up for Arran. The bride wore a silvery white gown that set off her unusual color and the groom wore a tuxedo with a silver tie.
Arran liked the climate in Louisville as it had four seasons; something he wasn’t accustomed to. He also realized it was central to most of the country and had an international airport, so he brought his jet in.
He and Gabrielle honeymooned on the Gulf coast of Florida and while they were there, Arran bought a condominium penthouse overlooking the water. He left orders for his yacht to be brought over and secured a dock moorage for it nearby. He gave in and let Gabrielle furnish both the condominium and the house they bought in Louisville exactly the way she wanted. She gathered pale, weathered colors for the condo, extending the light beyond the day and making it shine in the moonlight. She knew it set her own coloring off well and Arran was mesmerized by it. The condo had eight bedrooms and en-suite baths; enough that any family or business associate could come and stay with them. He had an office built and while Gabrielle busied herself furnishing a nursery at the condo, he and Alahan set about establishing this office as the primary location for his new business, Silver & Associates.
It was here that the baby was born in late November, just as the leaves had dropped from their branches in Louisville. Young Arran Muhalla, Jr. was healthy and had a beautiful bronzed complexion. His father insisted that his tiny son’s bassinette be present in his office while he worked. “He will learn very early what it takes to be successful,” he explained.
When Christmas came, they moved to Louisville to celebrate the holidays. Gabrielle hadn’t had much time to pull their mansion there together, but she wanted to see a white Christmas and there was a far greater chance of that happening in Louisville.
Their staff travelled with them and the chef prepared a magnificent Christmas dinner with goose, ham, and all the trimmings. Margie and her children were lined up at the dining table while Baby Arran’s eyes were fastened on the colored string of blinking lights.
Arran had given Gabrielle a magnificent canary diamond ring for their wedding, while he insisted on nothing more than a simple gold band for himself. F
or Christmas, he gave her a matching set of necklace and earrings, wrapped in a box covered with silver foil and a huge silver ribbon. There was also a new car waiting in the drive; a baby blue Mercedes convertible.
Arran’s business was already exploding. He was providing financial advice and leveraging his American connections with businessmen from the Middle East. He made the ideal liaison and invitations to dinner at the Muhalla mansion, with the breathtaking Gabrielle Muhalla as hostess, were highly coveted.
Just after Easter, Arran’s brothers and their wives made a surprise visit and the three couples attended the Kentucky Derby with box seats Arran had managed to secure. They made quite a spectacle in their finery; particularly the ladies in their hats. Gabrielle was thrilled that the women spoke perfect English so they were able to chat about fashion, differences in culture, and the fact that Arran’s brother, Sinhad and his wife were expecting their first child. Baby Arran was handed around regularly and bounced on knees to his parent’s delight. It was decided by Sinhad that since Baby Arran was the eldest male in the new generation, he would pass the title “Sheikh” down to him – it was only fitting since it rightfully belonged to his father. This thrilled Arran but Gabrielle was a bit worried about what that meant for his future. It was a long time off, however, and she wasn’t going to waste time worrying.
Sinhad, Farrah, and their wives accompanied Arran and Gabrielle down to Florida to see their condo. It was a short journey in their jets. Arran’s brothers were enchanted with the proximity to water, just as he knew they would be. Under his guidance, they each bought condos in nearby buildings and it was decided this would be their American headquarters as well. Gabrielle felt a pang of sadness when they bid goodbye to her in-laws. It felt good to her to have a sense of belonging and she was extremely happy that Baby Arran would never know what it was like to be an orphan.
That Christmas, as Baby Arran toddled around, the family flew to Las Vegas for New Year’s Eve. Arran had secured tickets for a Celine Dion show and Gabrielle was beside herself with excitement. The well-known singer had been a favorite of hers for years. When she sang, “The Power Of Love” Gabrielle felt as though the song had been written especially for she and Arran. They still owned the compound there and spent a few weeks in the desert sun and heat as a break from the colder, snowier climate in the mid-south.
As they crawled into bed one night, Arran pulled Gabrielle close and began to kiss her. “I cannot imagine what would have happened if I’d not found you,” he said, remembering the terror he’d felt when he’d arrived back in Vegas and found her gone. “I would have gone mad looking for you.”
“I’m glad you found me, too,” Gabrielle whispered, kissing his chest with little flicks of her tongue. His nipples were sensitive and her lips pulled at them until he was erect and bobbing, needing her pussy for relief.
Arran played with her nipples as well, and her pussy went wet and hungry, the muscles spasming in waves that made her moan. He chuckled, teasing her with his fingers for penetration, entering and withdrawing just as she was about to release. She cursed him for withholding himself and finally, he rolled over upon her and entered her deeply with a possessive need to claim what he knew had been intended for him all along. His hips slammed into hers as thousands of years of domination by the hunter man sought the tender, internal prey that was woman. Gabrielle pulled him closer, holding him deep within herself, her vaginal muscles refusing to release him until at last, by force, he withdrew. “I love you, Arran,” she whispered and he returned the sentiment, his body moist from the exertion of lovemaking. “Don’t ever leave me again, do you promise?” she begged. He nodded and held her close.
“The same goes for you,” he said and she agreed.
Nine months later, Victoria Ann was born to them in the same hospital where Baby Arran had been born. She was the image of her mother, right down to the green eyes and a soft fuzz of silvery hair covered her head.
Gabrielle had wanted a girl so badly. She wanted to spoil her; to give her dolls and toys and beautifully feminine clothes. She wanted to give Victoria all the things she’d been denied as a child. Arran allowed her this; he knew she needed to wipe out the memory of her youth and Victoria certainly was easy to spoil.
Gabrielle made the most of the Louisville nursery for Victoria. She decorated it in a pale, pale blue with gauze curtains and a four-poster bed where she slept when Victoria was fussing in the night. There were shelves of dolls and tiny dressers that held their clothes. There was a rocking horse that was painted to look as though it had come straight from a carousel and a white rocker where Gabrielle held her and read her stories while Baby Arran crawled around on the carpet and listened as he played. The children had a nanny but Gabrielle loved spending time with them both.
Gabrielle had made many friends at all of their houses, but her favorite was still Margie. Gabrielle had convinced Arran to buy a small daycare business and it included a very cozy little house. They gave it to Margie to run and live there with her brood of children. The long-term effect was that her children, no longer left alone for long hours, began to calm down and turned out to be model children.
Gabrielle spent some hours working with Arran. He often sought her input before making a major business decision. She had the unique American perspective that he valued so highly. She was very popular among his business contacts with her rare beauty and Arran swore that she closed more deals than he’d ever thought of doing. This flattered her. It felt good to be needed and valued. It felt good to have a family. Most of all, it felt very, very good to be in love with a husband as handsome and successful as Arran Muhalla. They were the ideal couple living a fairy-tale life and as the years passed, they would come to have two more boys. Victoria was spoiled, just as her mother intended, but no one said a word. There were two silver-haired princesses ruling, after all.
The End
AGAIN: A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE
Prologue
I recalled the feeling of his hands on my skin, soft and stroking and loving. The way he had looked into my eyes as he pushed into me, his hardness making me cry out, first in pain and then, an instant later, in wonder.
I had melted in his arms and afterward, after our slow, sweet passion was spent, I had wept with the beauty of it all.
He was my first man.
Maddox Jefferson. Handsome, funny, rugged. The first man in my life and the one who had taken my heart along with everything else I had to offer at the time.
Then, for some reason, he’d left. I guessed it had been natural. That’s how my mom had made me see it, anyway. Natural and logical. We were sixteen at the time and of course, she said, things were not going to last between us. When he walked away without contacting me, she made it seem like I was foolish to expect anything else. Except that it hadn’t ever faded away…not for me.
“Ms. Trent?”
“Mm?” I blinked up at my secretary as she came into the office.
“Papers for you to sign.”
“Oh. Thank you, Jess. If you could just leave them there?”
“Yes, Ms. Trent.”
I sighed and focused on the print as I lifted a page to my eyes, trying to think straight. Somehow, my mind was full of Maddox today. I looked out of the window: the sky was a delicate blue, springtime visiting the city again. I suppose that was it. It was a season where the heart naturally thinks of loving. And it was five days before Valentine’s. That must be it.
“And here I am, in Trent Incorporated, signing…um…forms for the customs bureau?”
I put my signature to the papers, put my elbows on the desk and rested my head in my hands.
I was twenty-six, and my life felt so empty.
It was actually quite full. My father was the CEO of Trent Incorporated—a massive international freight company—and I was all set to take over from him. Running a big business empire should have made me excited. As daddy’s daughter, I would have expected it to. I was very like him in some ways, or so mom
always said. And dad was leaving me in charge this week while he jetted off to Singapore for talks there.
I knew I had a full life. But it was only three months since I split from my ex-boyfriend and I still felt all the trauma after that as well. He had been a critical, belittling and undermining guy, always telling me that I fell short or implying I wasn’t quite good enough for him. It had only been when it became clear he had met someone else that I finally had the courage to step away. Now that I was free of him and his small cruelties, I should feel so much happier. Oddly enough, though, I didn’t.
I’m just being silly.
My phone rang. I glanced at the clock—1:15 p.m. Weird.
I didn’t expect that phone to ring—very few people have my personal number. My dad. Mom. Harper, my best friend. And Valery, when he was my boyfriend. Now he’s blocked.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Macy!” It was Harper. I smiled.
“What’s up? Listen, it’s the end of lunch hour—I haven’t got time now…” I began quickly.
“It’s nothing. Just wait! Listen! I’m having a Valentine’s party. I wanted to invite, you know, all my friends. I wanted to invite you most, of course.”
I smiled. Harper was a wildly enthusiastic type, the sort who got hyped about everything. A party at her place would be fun. “Sure,” I said. “Count me in.”