by Fiona Brand
Her breath suddenly locked in her throat. “Unless there’s a reason that you should use one.”
“There isn’t. I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
Out of nowhere joy hit her. His words weren’t a declaration of love, but they were significant. She touched the scar on his cheekbone, running the tips of her fingers gently across the smooth tissue. He captured her hand, deliberately possessive as he bent and kissed her again. She clutched at Gabe’s shoulders, drawing him close, lifting against him. This time their lovemaking was quieter, deeper, and as the night slowly unraveled around them she felt that something precious and right had flared to life between them.
* * *
She woke to gray morning light and the sound of Gabe in her shower. He dressed in the clothing he’d worn the previous night and dropped a kiss on her cheek. Since he didn’t have any clothes at the house he had to return to his apartment at the palace to change. Feeling sleepy and bemused, Sarah agreed to meet him for lunch.
Gabe made a quick call to the guard who had looked after them last night, arranging for him to pick her up around eleven.
After Gabe had gone, Sarah had a leisurely breakfast out on the terrace then checked the palace’s events online, noting that there was an open day today. It was part of the tourism promotion around the wedding, so the palace was bound to be crowded. Some spin doctor called Faruq seemed to be running everything.
Since it was now supposed to be her wedding, she decided to take a risk and join a tour, despite Gabe’s warning to stay out of sight for now. A tour of the palace as an anonymous tourist would fill in time before lunch, and provide more background information about Gabe’s family before she became an official part of it.
After changing into an ice-blue dress that looked fabulous with her new tan and a pair of sexy heels that were comfortable for walking she strolled downstairs, talked to Maria about the car in the garage and managed to get the keys.
* * *
The sun burned down on the acres of perfectly manicured grounds and the elaborate wings and towers of the palace. The building itself was impossibly beautiful and romantic. To imagine that she would live there one day soon seemed a dream.
Humming beneath her breath, Sarah took the tour, journal in hand. Despite seeing photos, the palace took her breath away with its vaulted ceilings, marble columns and mosaic floors. Most of the tour seemed concentrated in the reception rooms that would be used for the wedding, and those rooms were filled with a buzz of activity as exquisite furniture was polished, fresh paint applied to paneling and the gilding on the high, ornately plastered ceilings was retouched.
As she lingered in a hallway that resembled an art gallery, a slender young woman, accompanied by two large men in suits with the unmistakable look of bodyguards, strolled by.
Shock reverberated through Sarah as she recognized Nadia. With her hair trailing in loose, sexy tendrils, a gold-and-diamond pendant hanging suspended in the faint shadow of her cleavage, her wrists coiled with elegant bracelets, she looked more like a fashion model than the young heiress portrayed in her engagement photo.
Sarah’s stomach lurched. There could only be one reason for her to be here; Nadia was trying to get Gabe back.
After all Sarah and Gabe had shared yesterday and last night, she shouldn’t worry about Nadia’s machinations. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder—was this why Gabe hadn’t wanted Sarah to come to the palace?
Thirteen
Frowning, Sarah watched where Nadia went as the tour trailed into a formal library that was in use by the family. Sarah glanced into a room that opened off the library and caught a glimpse of a familiar set of broad shoulders.
A small shock went through her. She hadn’t expected to see Gabe. He had told her he would be in meetings all morning. Although of course, he hadn’t said with whom he was meeting. Adrenaline zinged through her as Nadia strolled into view and it became obvious that Gabe was meeting with his ex-fiancée. In that moment the door to what must be Gabe’s office closed, blocking Sarah’s view.
Feeling ruffled and upset, because she had thought Nadia was out of the picture completely, she found herself marching toward the closed door. Popping it open, she breezed inside as if she was expected.
Gabe, who was leaning against a gleaming mahogany desk, turned his head, his gaze clashing with hers. Nadia stared at Sarah, clearly annoyed at the interruption.
Sarah plastered a steely smile on her face and kept her gaze on Gabe. “Darling, I hope I’m not interrupting anything important. I just wanted to check what time we were going to buy the engagement ring, before lunch or after?”
Marching up to Gabe, who looked taut and sleekly urban in a dark suit and pristine white shirt, a royal-blue tie at his throat, she went up on her toes. Curling her fingers into the lapels of his jacket, she kissed him on the mouth, noting the glint of amusement in his gaze.
His arm curled around her waist, holding her close. “How about before lunch?”
“Good, I’ll just go and finish the...research I was doing next door.” Kissing him one more time for good measure, Sarah made a beeline for the door.
Gabe’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “How long will the research take?”
“I’ll be researching until you’re finished in here.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Nadia started speaking in low, rapid French. Sarah, who spoke French fluently, understood fighting words when she heard them, then the door swung closed behind her, cutting off Gabe’s reply.
Adrenaline pumping, Sarah walked straight into the tour group again, but she was no longer interested in the architectural and interior wonders of the palace. Peeling off, she practically jogged through the large library toward a set of French doors that opened onto a courtyard. Since the library was next to Gabe’s office, if she walked outside, she should be able to hear what was going on between him and Nadia.
Tiptoeing over the paved courtyard outside, she sidled through a thick tropical shrub and peered into Gabe’s office. Frustrated when she couldn’t see anything, and wondering if somehow she had gotten the wrong office, she circumnavigated a tub of flowers and a trellis festooned with a dark, glossy creeper, to peer into the window.
“See anything interesting?”
The rough timbre of Gabe’s voice spun Sarah around. When the heel of one shoe caught in the gap between pavers, she grabbed at a bunch of foliage to keep herself upright. “Not yet.”
Gabe pulled her out of the shrubbery and picked a leaf out of her hair. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t come to the palace—”
“Because I’d find out you’re meeting with your fiancée?”
“Ex-fiancée.”
Sarah extracted herself from his hold. “It didn’t look that way a few minutes ago.”
“What you just saw was Gerald Fortier sending his daughter in to apply pressure. Apparently, he thought if I received a little ‘encouragement’ and an extra financial carrot, I’d go ahead with the marriage.”
She stared at Gabe’s stubbled jaw and an intriguing mark on the side of his neck. She could feel herself blushing at the memory of just how he had gotten that mark. “And were you encouraged?”
He cupped her nape, drawing her close. Dipping his head, he touched his mouth to hers, the kiss tingling all the way to her toes. He lifted his head. “If I was ‘encouraged’ do you think I’d be out here with you?”
She clutched at the lapels of his jacket again, using them as a convenient anchor. “I’m not going to apologize for making a scene.” She had lost her last fiancée to another woman; she would not risk losing Gabe.
“Nadia Fortier’s gone. Xavier’s taken her back to her hotel. He’s putting her on a chartered flight back to Paris this afternoon.”
Gabe ushered her back through the library and in
to his office. “Now that you’re here, I have something for you. I was going to give it to you at lunch, but with the damage Fortier’s caused with leaked photos and documents, it needs to happen now. Faruq has set up a press conference straight after lunch, and I’d like you to attend it with me.”
“You’re going to officially announce our engagement?”
Gabe opened a wall safe and extracted a set of keys. In succinct tones he outlined the information that would be given to the media. In light of the fact that both he and Nadia had discovered they were not as compatible as they had first thought, they had ended their engagement. But, after the deepening of a relationship with a previous flame, a descendent of the de Vallois family, the wedding would proceed, just with a different bride. “We won’t announce the pregnancy straight off. We can do that a few days before the wedding.”
Sarah stiffened at the sanitized version of how the whole tangled situation had unfolded. There was nothing untruthful in the statement, but it was definitely constructed to distract attention away from the more scandalous aspects of the story.
Indicating that she should precede him, Sarah stepped out into the beautiful, echoing hall. Closing the door behind him, Gabe’s hand dropped to the small of her back. A small tingle of pleasure went through her at his casual possessiveness as they strolled past tourists and palace staff who now stared at her with open curiosity.
A man in a suit acknowledged Gabe with a lift of his hand and fell into step behind them and the reality of her situation struck home. As Gabe’s wife she would have to get used to security.
Gabe opened a heavy wooden slab of a door and they descended an ancient stone stairwell, leaving the brightness of day for the hard glow of artificial lighting. The dry coolness grew, enough to raise gooseflesh on her arms.
Gabe glanced at her, shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it around her shoulders. “I forget how cold it gets down here.”
The jacket instantly swamped her with heat, sending a reflexive shiver through her. They stopped at another door, this one smaller in size and alarmed.
When Gabe had disarmed the door, she followed him into a room that had probably once been a cellar. He halted at a steel door that was utterly twenty-first century high-tech, unmistakably a vault, and tapped in a code. Depressing the handle, he pushed open the thick door.
The small room was lit with halogen bulbs and lined with metal shelves containing glass-fronted cabinets filled with ancient books, scrolls and archives that instantly piqued Sarah’s interest. As an historian she loved examining original documents, although she seldom got the chance since most ancient texts were too fragile to be handled. There was also a series of locked steel cabinets and boxes. “Is this where the dowry used to be kept?”
Gabe checked through the ring of keys and found the one he wanted. “It was kept here, but in those days the security was primitive, just two locked doors and old-fashioned iron keys, which was why the dowry needed moving when the island was evacuated.”
Gabe chose a cabinet, unlocked it then withdrew two midnight blue velvet cases. Setting them down on a sleek metal table that occupied the center of the vault, he opened the smallest. Already prepared for the fact that he was probably going to give her a ring because they were in the palace vault and she would be presented as Gabe’s fiancée that afternoon, Sarah was still stunned.
The ring wasn’t the old family jewel she had expected, borrowed for convenience. Made by a staggeringly exclusive jeweler, the oval-shaped sapphire rimmed with diamonds was modern and breathtakingly gorgeous.
Extracting the ring, Gabe picked up her left hand. “May I?”
Sarah blinked back ridiculously sentimental tears as he slipped the ring onto her third finger. It was a moment she had experienced twice before but which had never been more important or filled with emotion. “It’s beautiful.” And it fitted perfectly.
He opened the other flat velvet box, which contained equally gorgeous drop earrings and a pendant. “You’ll need these, as well. After lunch, Faruq’s arranged for one of the designer boutiques to outfit you for the press conference.”
Still feeling a little misty, the businesslike necessity of the press conference grounded her. Sarah tucked the velvet boxes in her bag and minutes later they walked out of the dim lower rooms and back into the airy lightness and clamor of the palace.
In the end, lunch with Gabe was canceled because Faruq, a small quick man who looked more like an accountant than a marketing genius, insisted Sarah not only needed an outfit, but that she must have her hair, nails and makeup done. Hilary Kadir, who had joined them, agreed to take Sarah to her stylist. Surrounded by palace staff, suddenly the responsibility Gabe carried hit home. It explained his calm, measured manner, the lack of outward emotion that sometimes felt like coldness. She knew for a fact that he was neither cold nor emotionless, but with cameras constantly pointed at him and literally thousands of people dependent on him, he would have learned early on to maintain that steely self-control.
* * *
Two hours of relentless pampering later, wearing a slim-fitting royal blue jacket and skirt that deepened the color of her eyes, her hair smoothed into a glossy, thick swathe and tucked behind her ears to show off the earrings, Sarah walked into the press conference with Gabe. Already warned about the hot lights and the camera flashes, and prepped on what she should and should not say, she did her best to keep her expression serene.
The questions came thick and fast, although Gabe blocked most of them with a flat “No comment.”
Thanks to the genius of Faruq, who had also briefed the press beforehand and had plied them with champagne and canapés, the sticky territory of their fling before Gabe had gotten engaged to Nadia was barely touched upon. Apparently, Nadia was now old news. The story everyone wanted was the love affair between the sheikh and the schoolteacher, a mismatch that carried echoes of Zahir’s romantic past.
Annoyed by the idea that they were a mismatch, but bolstered by the positive atmosphere, Sarah allowed the beautiful ring to be photographed. When one of the journalists asked Gabe if he had finally gotten over Jasmine, and wanted to know what it felt like to be getting married again, Gabe pushed to his feet, pulling her with him. Thanking the press, his expression cold, he propelled her from the room.
A security guard fell into step behind them. When they reached Gabe’s study, he took a call. His already grim expression turned icy. He glanced at Sarah, but seemed to barely see her. Curtly, he informed her that something urgent had come up then instructed the guard to see Sarah back to the cliff-top house.
As Sarah followed the guard out of the palace, the fact that Gabe had some emergency to cope with took second place to the question that was burned into her mind. The one that had abruptly ended the press conference and which she had hoped she had put behind her.
Was Gabe over Jasmine?
Fourteen
Sarah glanced in the rearview mirror as a sleek black sedan nosed out of the parking lot behind her. Feeling more and more upset as the minutes ticked by, Sarah pulled into the parking lot of the cliff house. She needed some air, without her guard, the six foot eight, Yusuf.
Changing into light jeans and a cotton camisole with a tight white cardigan buttoned over top, she checked to see where Yusuf had gone. When she heard his voice in the kitchen, she picked up her camera and bag and sneaked out a side door. When she reached the car, still in the clear, she turned the key in the ignition and pointed it down the drive. In her rearview mirror, she saw Yusuf race out onto the drive.
Adrenaline pumping, she turned onto the coast road. Her phone rang, but she didn’t answer. Once she got to the bottom of the cliff, she would text the number he had given her before she had left the palace and let him know she would be an hour at most. A second turn and she was winding down the hill to the parking lot at the beach.
She d
rew a swift breath as Salamander Bay came into view, wild and beautiful and still almost devoid of habitation. As she brought the car to a halt in a parking lot occupied by half a dozen vehicles, she climbed from the car, feeling miserable, but consoled by the wildness of the spectacularly beautiful white sand beach with its high rock promontory that ran like a dark finger out to sea.
After texting Yusuf, she took a photo of the beach, which was occupied by sporadic bathers and the occasional bright umbrella. Turning, she took a shot of the rock promontory, which was brooding and spectacular, then she walked down onto the sand. She took a couple of snaps of the dark, brooding cliff face crowned by the fortress, which occupied the highest point in the bay, a square set against the onslaught of the wind with a sole crenellated tower.
Still feeling terminally unsettled because she was worried that Gabe was still in love with Jasmine, and that he wasn’t willing to trust Sarah with that truth, she walked out along the rock promontory. The extra height gave her a better view of the beach and the place that was the wreck site of the Salamander. Sunlight glittering off polished metal caught her attention. A black sedan had just pulled into the parking lot.
She couldn’t believe it when Graham emerged from the car and had the nerve to wave at her. She pretended not to see him and continued taking photos.
Irritated beyond belief that he seemed to find ways to insert himself into her life, she walked a little farther along the rocks. A wave, larger than any she’d yet seen, almost completely submerged the rocks ahead. Spray exploded, close enough to wet her. Suddenly aware of the danger and kicking herself for not being more careful, she tucked the camera in its the bag and started for shore.
Her stomach tightened as a flash of movement alerted her to the fact that someone was walking toward her. A curious sense of inevitability gripped her as she turned to see Gabe, still dressed in his formal suit. “Let me guess. Yusuf called you.”
“You weren’t supposed to leave the house without him.” His gaze was trained steadily seaward. “Didn’t you read the sign?”