Riad Dubois: The Complete Romance Series

by Avery North

  “That is definitely something to think about,” he answered sagely, before returning to his duties.

  Louise sat with her coffee, waiting for Helen. Looking around the lobby, she remembered how awestruck she had been when she had first entered the Riad. The marble floor, leather couches, and dark woodwork still held the same charm for her. But she needed more. She needed to start looking at apartments, talking to Gilbert about her plans − more than anything she needed to regain her independence. Shrugging her shoulders, she admitted that was what was really wrong. Smoothing the yellow cotton of her dress, she rose to go in search of Helen. A trip to the Ville Nouvelle and some retail therapy would lift the cloud for the moment. She might even pop into some realtor offices while there.

  Helen and Aryn were still where she had left them in the courtyard, the remains of breakfast still on the table, Aryn’s arm draped casually over the back of Helen’s chair, Helen leaning suspiciously close to him.

  “Helen, would you like to go shopping and do some sightseeing?” she asked, sliding back into her chair.

  “Sure,” Helen answered.

  “I will see you back here this evening,” Aryn laid a hand on her shoulder as he stood up and leaned over to her. “I have to go back to work, but this evening … ”

  He left his sentence unfinished suggestively, checked the creases in his trousers, and holding his cellphone left for the lobby.

  Louise watched Helen’s eyes following him. She didn’t need to ask if everything had been sorted. The gleam in Helen’s eyes was the only confirmation she needed.

  Chapter 4

  “Wow, it’s hot! Does it get this hot every day here?” Helen turned her burning face to Louise under the restaurant canopy.

  “Not every day. But this is high summer, 100°F to 120°F is normal. Let’s go inside to eat. We can get a taxi back when we are finished.”

  In the cool interior of the restaurant at Djemaa el Fna, Helen looked around, seeming satisfied.

  “Perhaps you are right about wanting to stay here, Louise. It certainly is different and exciting. And, of course, you have Gilbert.”

  “Yes. And you and Aryn seem to have settled your differences?”

  “Yes,” Helen smiled, a slow secret smile. “He is taking me out tonight. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Heavens, not at all. Where are you going?”

  “I have no idea,” Helen gave that slow secret smile again.

  “Would those clothes you bought today have anything to do with it?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Louise looked at her. Could this really be the Helen who had been so offended by Aryn last night? Well, this could be interesting. She had certainly succumbed to the sales lady’s charms in the French boutique.

  "And you and Gilbert are doing well, Louise? How does it feel to be living with someone again?"

  “Good, yes … good,” Louise poured a glass of water. “Different, but good.”

  Helen cast a sharp eye over her. Was there something Louise wasn’t telling her? Well, tomorrow she would ask. But for now, Aryn and the night ahead were foremost in her mind. The scent of his aftershave, the male muskiness of him, kept intruding on her thoughts. During the night, she had dreamt of him and woken imagining what it would be like having him inside her. The dampness she had felt when she woke that morning was there again. Tonight she would give in to her desires, and if it didn’t work, she could always rebook her flight home or stay somewhere else. Although why that might happen, she couldn’t think.

  “Helen, Helen,” Louise’s voice calling her name interrupted her reveries.

  “You were miles away! A penny for your thoughts?”

  “Sorry,” Helen smiled apologetically.

  The thermometer was almost reaching 120°F when they got back to the Riad.

  “This is not a time to be rushing about in the heat,” Louise announced as they entered the Riad. “We can go to the pool in the courtyard if you want?”

  “No, I have to try these clothes on again,” Helen excitedly escaped up the staircase carrying her shopping bags.

  Safe in her room, she fastened the door behind her. Housekeeping had strewn the bed with flower petals. Scooping up a handful of petals, Helen threw herself on the bed. She had to think carefully before this went any further. She hadn’t come to Morocco with the intention of falling for anyone. But inexplicably, it had happened. She had been thinking about him all day, wanting him near her.

  “Damn you, Helen,” she groaned. “Damn you!”

  Bringing the petals to her nose, she inhaled the scent deeply. She just had to see this for what it was − a holiday romance. She’d had those before and survived, no damage done. That was just how she would have to approach Aryn. A brief fling in a foreign country. The only damage would be the ridiculous amount she had put on her credit card buying those clothes. And that damage she could afford.

  ***

  Gilbert found Louise in the courtyard, curled up in a soft chair in the shade of a palm tree, Moustache lying on her lap.

  “Are you OK, Louise?” he asked softly, running a hand through her loose hair.

  “Yes,” she raised her face for his kiss. “Aryn and Helen are going out tonight.”

  “Yes, you and I need a date night too.”

  “Agreed,” she smiled as he took her hand to kiss her fingers one by one.

  “But for now, I have work to do. I am so sorry, Louise, but summers are always like this. Family friends are checking in this evening; Papa sent an advance warning earlier.”

  “Pity … tomorrow night perhaps?”

  “Yes, tomorrow night.”

  ***

  Aryn had the car purring in the driveway when Helen walked down the Riad steps. Looking at her, he drew in his breath quickly. No trousers tonight, just a sheath-like dress hugging her body in all the right places, a simple pair of sandals showing off her legs, her face bright from spending the morning in the sunlight.

  “You look so good,” he whispered as he opened the car door for her.

  “So do you,” she took in his easy clothes, the tantalizing scent, that male muskiness again.

  The restaurant he had chosen was a traditional Moroccan one in the Ville Nouvelle.

  "Here you can try authentic Moroccan dishes," he said, handing her the menu. "You should try the tagine or couscous." He flicked through the wine list

  While he was busy choosing a wine, Helen looked around the restaurant. The traditional Moroccan décor captured her attention. Handwoven tapestries adorned the walls, and wood carvings were placed carefully around the room. But it was the use of coal braziers to keep already prepared food warm that fascinated her the most, that and the soft hum of Arabic voices. Shaking her head, Helen realized she was falling in love with this exotic country.

  Looking across the table at her date, she found he was gazing at her intently. But this was not the gaze of the previous night, a gaze that had said he was taking stock of her physical attributes. No, this gaze was more thoughtful, as if he was considering saying something important. But the moment passed as he went back to tasting the wine and explaining the house specialties to her.

  The waiter had left the table when Aryn reached a hand to her.

  “I hope you believed me when I said I was so sorry for my behavior last night.”

  “Yes, I believed you. Did you believe me when I said I was sorry for slapping you?” She laid a hand over his, noticing how his eyes had melted as he spoke.

  “Of course, Helen. Believe me, I am not the womanizer people like to think I am. I know,” he took back his hand and leaned back in his chair, "I dress the part, and yes, I like to give that impression. But …” He trailed off.

  “But?” Helen had caught the note of sadness in his voice.

  "Well," leaning forward once more, he began to speak again. “I am not like Gilbert. He comes from a very wealthy family. Not me. I have had to work very hard to get to where I am today. And, yes, I am successful, and I
like enjoying my success, even if that gives the wrong impression at times.”

  Helen’s eyes widened with admiration. “You did all this yourself?”

  He nodded.

  “But why tell me? You didn’t have to.” Helen had not expected someone she had known for such a short time to open up to her so easily.

  “Because I like you. We started on the wrong foot but,” he raised his wine glass, “Here’s to new beginnings.”

  ***

  Sudden spatters of rain began to fall on them as they left the restaurant. Aryn wrapped his jacket around Helen’s shoulders.

  “There’s a thunderstorm coming,” he ushered her into the car. “Have you ever seen a real Moroccan thunderstorm?”

  He reversed the car out of its parking space, surprising her by driving away from the road that led to the Riad. Parking on an area of raised ground, he turned to her.

  “We can watch it properly from here," pulling her to him; he indicated the sheets of lightning already flashing across the sky.

  Warm in his arms, Helen listened to the storm thundering around them and felt him squeezing her with every clap of thunder or bolt of lightning. The storm ended as suddenly as it had begun in an unexpected silence.

  Reaching his hand out, he raised her face to his.

  “Bet you didn’t expect your first night out with me to end watching a storm,” he said as he brushed her lips with his. “You probably expected satin sheets and champagne in bed?”

  "No, Helen, when you and I come together, it will be in a special place some days from now. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Helen returned his kiss passionately.

  Chapter 5

  “Morning, Helen, how was your evening?” Louise asked at breakfast.

  “How was it?” Helen paused over her coffee. “Well, the restaurant was amazing, lovely food, lovely atmosphere.”

  "And afterward?"

  “Afterwards? We watched the thunderstorm,” Helen answered.

  “You bought that gorgeous dress to watch a thunderstorm,” Louise laughed loudly.

  “OK, it sounds funny. But it was more serious than that. He says he wants to wait until we can have satin sheets and champagne.” Helen cast a bemused look at her friend. “To me, that sounds far too serious. I just want a holiday romance, not something that committed.”

  “Wow, Helen! I didn’t know he took romance so seriously. But will you go out with him again?”

  “Staying here, I don’t know how I can avoid it.” She paused to spear another piece of fruit. “How did your night go? Did you get a chance to talk to Gilbert?”

  “Not really. Some family friends checked in yesterday, so his evening was taken up with them.”

  “You need to have a talk with him. I still cannot imagine you staying here forever. Maybe both of us should just bolt for the UK?”

  “Not the UK for me. Sorry Helen, I like it here. I just need to regain some independence.”

  “OK.” Helen cast her a skeptical look.

  ***

  Later that morning, Louise was in the library, putting the finishing touches to an article she was submitting to the London office. Gilbert passed through on his way to his office and stopped to ruffle her hair affectionately. Remembering her conversation with Helen, Louise felt this was a good time to talk to him about her concerns.

  “Gilbert, there is something I have to really talk to you about,” she began.

  "Yes," Gilbert was not surprised. For some weeks now, he had felt that she had lost some of her sparkle. Of course, they had both been busy, she with her writing and he running the Riad.

  “Maybe it is time I moved out of here … out of the Riad. It was never meant to be a long-term arrangement. Perhaps it is time I got my own apartment?”

  He looked at her in surprise. “But I love having you here, sleeping beside me every night. What has brought this on? Did Helen say something to you?”

  “No, Gilbert, no,” she reached a hand out to him. “Helen didn’t say anything. This is my own thinking entirely. Please understand, I have lived alone for some time now, ever since my divorce. I have learned how to be independent, and I don't want to lose that; it was so hard-won."

  Gilbert could understand how she felt. She had told him all about the break-up of her marriage, even the minute details. But he wondered if it had to affect how she lived her life now.

  “But Louise, I will never try to take your independence or control you. You must know that?” He raised a hand to cup her face, his thumb stroking her soft cheek.

  “Is there anything more, Louise? Are you falling out of love with me?”

  “No, except maybe I am being unrealistic,” she looked at him, hoping he understood. “I want us to be like we were at the beginning, love’s young dream. We are too young to become stale or set in a routine. I don’t want that to happen.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully. Perhaps she had a point. Planting a kiss on her forehead, he said, “OK, I need to think a little bit, but we can talk tonight.”

  She nodded her thanks. At least the conversation had begun.

  ***

  A confusion of files and open laptops greeted him when he entered his office. Aziz and Aryn raised their heads from the report they were studying to greet him.

  “Good morning, Gilbert,” Aziz was the first to speak, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “You had better sit down. There seems to be a problem with the hotel in Essaouira.”

  “Essaouira?”

  “Yes. When were you last there?”

  “Not recently. Olan, the manager there, is very reliable. I leave most things to him. Why do you ask?”

  “There is something seriously wrong with these accounts. Quite a lot of money is unaccounted for,” Aziz turned to Aryn for support.

  “Are you sure?” Gilbert could not believe what he was hearing.

  “Yes, unfortunately. See here and here.” Aziz ran his pencil along rows of figures. “The hotel seems to be very busy, but the bank accounts are saying otherwise.”

  “Mr. Dubois senior will not be happy when he sees this,” Aryn remarked with a look of concern. “When is he due to make his annual inspection?”

  “In a month or two,” Gilbert replied, worry apparent in the creases on his forehead. “We need to get this sorted before then.”

  “Somebody needs to go to Essaouira as a matter of urgency,” Aziz advised. “And preferably not you Gilbert. It might be better if Aryn or I go, throw a fresh pair of eyes on the situation.”

  “Aryn, are you happy to go?” Gilbert looked at him.

  “Yes, I can go tomorrow, but I will probably need to spend a few days there.”

  “Yes, it would be the best stay over. We need to get this done before word reaches the Paris office.”

  ***

  Helen was spending the morning in the library, watching Louise as she worked and flicking idly through her journal.

  “Louise, is it almost two years since your divorce?”

  “Yes,” Louise nodded. “Are you telling me I should have tried being single longer?”

  "Never having been married, I can’t really comment on that. But I do enjoy my single life.”

  Louise looked quizzically at her. Helen had seemed preoccupied since her date with Aryn.

  Helen sighed. “I’m just wondering if I would miss it. You guarded yours carefully until you met Gilbert.”

  “You don’t really know until you meet someone. But maybe you already have?” she flashed a wicked grin.

  "Oh, nonsense! I am going to the courtyard." Helen was on her feet when the door opened, and Gilbert entered, followed by his two business partners.

  “Ladies, good morning. Anybody for coffee?” he greeted them cheerily. “We were about to have some in the courtyard.”

  Sitting at the table, a coffee cup in her hand, Helen felt Aryn’s eyes on her. She wondered what he was thinking behind those dark eyes of his. Perhaps it was better she didn’t know. She had spent the morning
trying to banish him from her mind and thinking up the excuses she could use when he asked her out again.

  However, when he moved his chair closer to hers, those well-planned excuses deserted her.

  “Helen, have you heard of Essaouira, a little resort on the coast?” he asked her quietly.

  "No.," she shook her head.

  “It is very beautiful, miles of beaches, lots to see and do. I have to go there for a few days, leaving tomorrow. Come with me.”

  Seeing the longing in his eyes, her heart jumped. But she would have to think about it. "Let's talk later," she said quietly.

  When the men had returned to the office, she told Louise about Aryn’s invitation and watched her friend’s eyes widen with delight.

  “Will you go?” Louise asked.

  “Yes,” was Helen’s response. “Yes, I will. Why I don’t know, but I know it’s what I want to do.”

  “Perhaps you are just falling in love?” Louise couldn’t resist saying.

  Chapter 6

  Louise rested her head on Gilbert’s shoulder and said, “Helen and Aryn have left without any incidents.”

  “Yes, it is most unlike Aryn to fall, so suddenly for someone. Marrakesh must be working its magic." He swung her off her feet before continuing, "Now, let's have our conversation. Let's go to that coffee shop you like.”

  In the dark interior of the coffee shop, Gilbert sat opposite Louise, holding her hands. “Why did you wait so long to tell me something was worrying you?”

  Louise chewed her lip for a moment before answering, “I was afraid I was being silly and that you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Really?”

  “And I was afraid I might lose you,” she blurted out.

  Pulling his chair closer to hers, he placed an arm around her, tilting her chin to look in her eyes.