Riad Dubois: The Complete Romance Series

by Avery North

  My parent’s vacation was over. The car was packed and ready for their trip to the ferry and the onward drive to Paris. Strangely, apart from instructions to take care of myself, they didn't seem very perturbed at leaving without me. Maybe they were finally happy to have their lives back and ready to let me have mine. That was Brad’s interpretation, at least. Or maybe, as Joshua had suggested, this trip to Marrakesh had brought them closer together. They certainly looked happier than I had seen them look in some time.

  “Drive safely now,” Brad called, as he put the last piece of luggage in the car. "See you in London sometime soon, hopefully.”

  Brad

  I turned to Simone and caught her wiping a sneaky tear from her eye. Thinking this was inevitable after how close she had become to her parents after our relationship began to flourish, I put my arm around her. They had even extended their vacation to spend more time with her. Not so my dad, he had gone back as soon as he could and was getting ready to welcome us to the UK when we arrived in a week.

  In the meantime, Simone and I had some more songs to practice before she joined my band as vocalist and unleashed her brand of music on the world.

  Book 4: Endless Desire

  Blurb

  Emma Longley is an accomplished travel journalist based in London. Thanks to her hard work and dedication, she is awarded a vacation as a bonus and heads back to Marrakesh, Morocco, to visit her friend and colleague Louise at Riad Dubois. She’s determined that while there she will try new things and throw caution to the winds.

  Riad Dubois is owned by Gilbert, Louise’s partner, and his family is visiting at the same time to check on their son and part of their business empire. They bring their younger son Raoul, the black sheep of the family, who is desperate to strike out on his own.

  Emma and Raoul meet at the airport and, despite a rocky start, soon find themselves drawn towards one another in a passionate romance.

  Can Emma see a future in Marrakesh with Raoul? Or is the pull of London too hard to escape? Will she allow him to win her over?

  Chapter 1

  A dark car with blackened windows pulled up beside Emma as she waited at the taxi rank. Not knowing what to expect, she took a step backward. This was her first time traveling alone in Marrakesh, and Joshua's words of warning still rang in her ears.

  “You are a pretty young woman,” Joshua her colleague, had warned. “I don’t think you should be going there on your own.” She had brushed off his concerns, determined to use her award to explore further afield. She had worked hard for it, and a chance to return to Morocco, albeit alone, would make all the work worthwhile.

  “You are waiting for a taxi,” the man in the car called through the open window. “Did I hear you saying at immigrations you are going to Riad Dubois?”

  She looked, recognizing the young man who had stood behind her in the immigration queue. The man who had expressed his annoyance at the delay in French? Now he was speaking English but with an unmistakable French accent.

  “Yes, I am going to Riad Dubois, when the taxi arrives,” she answered.

  He was leaping out of the car, pushing his dark glasses onto his forehead.

  "So am I, but you will have to wait a long time for a taxi here. It is only nine am, too early for taxis to be out and about here. Come with me,” he was reaching for her luggage. Raising a hand when she started to protest, he continued, “Let me introduce myself. Raoul Dubois, the patron’s brother, And, you are?”

  “Emma Longley. The patron’s partner’s friend.” She took the tanned hand noticing the heavy gold bracelet.

  “OK, you are coming with me?” Without waiting for an answer, he was slinging her luggage into the boot.

  “I can’t let a pretty lady sweltering in this heat, waiting for a taxi that may not come,” he was holding the door for her, slamming it shut after her.

  As he settled into the driver's seat, Emma began to relax. Of course, this was Gilbert's brother. Louise had said he would be arriving at approximately the same time as herself. And he fitted the description Louise had given of him.

  Late twenties, handsome, with black hair worn a little too long and a penchant for gold jewelry if that bracelet was anything to go by.

  “Is this your first visit to Marrakesh?” He already had his seat belt on and was experimentally revving the car engine.

  “Never mind me. I need to see how well this car will behave itself. Anyhow you have been here before?”

  “Yes,” Emma answered. “On a work trip with Louise.”

  The car was now on the open road, its driver obviously enjoying pushing it to its top speed.

  As he swerved around a sharp bend, Emma gasped and grabbed the side of her seat.

  “Sorry,” he laughed, “you know what they say about French drivers.”

  “Yes,” Emma responded, “but these aren’t French roads.”

  She had spotted a farmer up ahead herding his flock of goats.

  "OK," he had spotted them as well. Dawdling behind the farmer, he turned to her. "This gives me time to get to know you better before I get swallowed up in family affairs at the Riad. "So, who are you, and what do you do?"

  Emma, surprised at the directness of the question, answered briefly, "I am Emma, a travel journalist. And you are?"

  He threw back his head, laughing, revealing a set of white teeth. "I am Raoul, from Paris and black sheep of the illustrious Dubois family.”

  “Black sheep, why?” She tilted her head to one side, fixing him with blue eyes.

  Privately thinking he could look into those eyes forever, he shrugged his shoulders. “Because I don’t subscribe to the family ethic of hard work. But,” and he laughed again, “I do enjoy the benefits that come from it.”

  Looking at the furrow between Emma's eyes, he decided to explain himself. "I can see you don't approve of my attitude. But there is a reason for it. I don't like being a member of the family team. It is all very well for my brother Gilbert. He can work for the family but at a distance. Me? I have to work at the Parisian headquarters." He couldn't understand why he had told her so much, but seeing the herd of goats turning into a field; he lightened his tone again.

  “And there they go! Now, we can go quickly again,” he pressed the accelerator and drove off at speed. Emma, her eyes widening, clutched her seat belt, holding her breath and praying the journey would soon be over.

  ***

  Relaxing by the pool in the Riad courtyard, Gilbert checked the time on his phone.

  “Raoul should be here shortly,” he commented to Louise, “if he comes directly from the airport.”

  “You don’t really trust your little brother, do you?” Louise commented, reaching a hand to ruffle his hair.

  “And you haven’t met him yet. You find my parents difficult? Just wait until you meet their youngest. I’m convinced he is the reason for their bad humor.”

  She laughed as he left for the lobby. His parents weren’t really all that difficult when one considered their huge chore running the hotel empire. Fussy, maybe, but difficult? No.

  "Louise," a familiar voice broke into her reveries. Turning, she saw Emma entering the courtyard, Emma as she remembered her, all lace and ruffles but white replacing the usual black and blonde hair in a pixie cut accentuating her features. Her face bare of makeup was already beginning to tan in the sunlight. Giving her a hug, she saw Gilbert entering with an exceptionally handsome young man who could only be his brother.

  "These two came together," Gilbert performed the introductions. "Emma, you have met Raoul already."

  Emma blushed unaccountably. “Yes, I have.” Mentally she cursed her face for betraying her. She was here to enjoy a well-earned break, not to fall for a conceited young man.

  “Anyhow, beers all round,” Louise raised her hand to the waiter hovering in the archway.

  Gilbert got a moment to talk to Raoul when Louise took Emma to her room. There were things that have to be said before that night's dinner with the parents
.

  “Raoul, you’ve probably guessed the parents aren’t very happy with you at the moment. They expected you here last week to accompany them on their inspection of the properties. They have had to go to Essaouira on their own. You had better be prepared for some difficult conversation at dinner.”

  Raoul shrugged his shoulders under the silk t-shirt.

  “Gilbert, I am not going to stress about the parents. I had my own affairs to attend to.”

  “I am telling you to warn you, brother. They are going to raise some issues with you.” He tried to keep his voice level. Losing his temper was not going to help solve whatever was going on between Raoul and the family.

  Raoul slung a leg over the arm of his chair. Maybe it was time for some straight talking here?

  “Gilbert, you forget you got the best end of the deal here. A Riad to call your own at a safe distance from Paris, no family interference in your everyday life.”

  Gilbert noticed the bitterness in his voice. Should he remind Raoul of how he had been banished to this corner of North Africa when he displeased the family? Probably not. He at least had made a good life here, especially since Louise had joined him.

  ***

  Looking at the archway, he saw her entering again, accompanied by Emma in a kimono and obviously ready for a swim. Seeing Raoul's eyes taking in the slim figure in the kimono and the responding bulge in his trousers, he decided to leave them to it. But Heaven help Raoul if he messed with Louise's friend.

  Emma casting off the kimono and tossing it onto a deckchair dipped her toes in the water and sliding in gracefully dip a lap of the pool, her slim body cutting through the water until turning on her back, she floated lazily taking in the sun and the brilliant sky.

  Raoul was watching her, determined he would have her if only for a night. She was as beautiful in her swimsuit as she was in those eccentric clothes she wore. Turning on his heel, he left the courtyard. He would see her later, get to talk to her, maybe more.

  Chapter 2

  Coming downstairs, a book under her arm Emma took in the scene in the lobby. She had thought that she might be overdressed, but looking around at the assembled guests, she was glad she had bought the black dress and gold sandals and packed her best jewelry. One couldn't possibly be overdressed here; she thought making her way to the dining room.

  Taking her seat at the table reserved for her, she could sit back, people watch and read her book. And remembering her last visit, on a working trip, she knew the food would be good and the wine excellent. Not that she was really a food enthusiast, but a little luxury helped at times she thought taking a sip from her aperitif.

  The dining room was busy, but hearing French being spoken at a nearby table, she remembered Raoul. He was meeting his family here. But she hadn't seen him on entering the dining room. She wondered for a moment why she was even thinking of him; he certainly hadn't impressed her on the way from the airport with his casual arrogance. Opening her book, she prepared to wait for her meal.

  A tap on her shoulder disturbed her reading. Looking up, prepared to see the waiter, she found herself looking into Raoul’s face.

  "Why are you all alone? Don't say you are waiting for somebody." He cast his eyes over the table, laid for one.

  "Because, well, because I am eating alone?" She could feel the color rising in her face and was immediately annoyed with herself.

  "Ladies, don't dine alone! Come, join us." He gave the approaching waiter an imperious wave of his hand. "This lady will be eating with us at that table."

  Following his pointing finger, the waiter brought Emma’s meal to the table where she had heard French being spoken.

  “Come, meet the family,” without giving her a chance to protest, he had a hand under her arm and was guiding her to the table.

  "This is Emma, my fellow traveler from this morning, and Louise's friend," he pulled out a chair for her at the table.

  “Nicole Dubois,” his elegantly dressed mother gave her a limp handshake. “And Renoir,” her husband rose to give her a peck on each cheek and an assurance that they spoke English.

  Already Emma was beginning to miss the solitude of her own little table. This promised to be an uncomfortable evening. Raoul gave the impression he felt he owned her, and his mother was less than warm. However, the father wanted to discuss London with her, and that served as an ice breaker. She could happily talk with him about her native city. If only Raoul wouldn’t insist on choosing her wine for her. He might be extremely attractive in his blue silk shirt and gold jewelry, but that did not give him permission to be arrogant as well. And for every flirtatious gesture, he made to Emma, the frown on his mother's face deepened.

  When the meal ended, she escaped to the courtyard with her book, trying to ignore the raised voices at the table she had just left.

  But she was soon to be joined by Raoul.

  He came striding through the archway and stood over her saying, "I hope I may join you? Otherwise, I will have to spend the evening with my parents or go find my brother."

  She indicated a chair beside hers. To refuse him would have been rude, she thought, and she was curious about the row that had erupted as she left the dining room.

  "Thank you," he sank into the chair, nonchalantly pushing his dark glasses further into his hair. "Did you enjoy meeting my parents? If you did, you must be a very patient person."

  She shot him a look. Could this display of bravado be meant for her, or was there some underlying problem he was trying to hide?

  “Yes, I enjoyed the meal,” she deliberately avoiding mentioning his family.

  He sat forward in his chair and, in a more serious tone, remarked, "Do not be fooled by the elegance and good breeding. They are tough, Emma, my mother, is tough. She is the one who controls the empire, although my father seems to be in charge. She is the one who decides what happens.”

  Emma looked at him, surprised. This was a strange conversation to be having with someone you had just met. Perhaps he had had too much wine, but she had noticed they were very sparing drinkers. Not knowing how to respond to his comments about his family, she attempted to move the conversation in another direction.

  “So, you are very familiar with Marrakesh?”

  “Yes, and with all the other outposts where they have hotels.” He shifted uneasily in his chair.

  “Sorry to bore you, Emma. But you seem like a good listener and an independent soul.”

  “Careful,” the little voice in her head warned. She hadn’t come to Marrakesh in search of a boyfriend or to become involved in some family drama. Stretching luxuriously, she reflected all of that had been left behind in London for two weeks.

  Watching her stretch, Raoul leaned back. Should he be telling her this? This wasn't normal for him, but then what was normal? Being berated again by the family? Well, this was his last trip with them. Of that, he was determined. He would have a plan in place, had to have a plan in place before leaving Marrakesh. In the meantime, he was going to enjoy the trip. Why ruin it by pouring out his sorrows to this girl fate had thrown in his way. At least fate was smiling kindly at him.

  Rising to his feet, he looked down at Emma, taking in the way her dress flowed loosely over that slim body, the gold sandals dangling from her toes, the black headband sitting on the blonde hair. He couldn't describe her dress sense as fashionable. It was different, but then she was different. He didn't know many women who would undertake a trip to Morocco on their own.

  Emma squirmed under his gaze, her cheeks beginning to flame.

  "Sorry to stare and for having bored you with my story." He hunkered on his heels beside her chair. "Would you like to join me for a coffee somewhere outside the hotel?"

  Emma looked at her book. She had intended reading. But her motto coming on this trip had been to have new experiences, to maybe throw caution to the wind.

  Shoving the book into her tan crossbody bag and pushing her toes into her sandals, she rose to her feet.

  “OK., coff
ee, it is then."

  Gilbert saw them leaving the hotel, his brother’s hand on Emma’s back, guiding her through the Riad doorway into the dark night. She should be OK., he reflected. Louise had said she was a very capable young woman, and he had to deal with the fallout from Raoul's meeting with the family.

  ***

  Despite the darkness, the streets were busy, the usual music and scents of cooking coming from Djema el Fna.

  "You have been to the square before?" Raoul asked. Well, of course, she would have been if she had been here on a work trip for the magazine. He mentally kicked himself for asking a stupid question. It must have been the scent of Mimosa or the perfume she was wearing that had made him do that.

  Turning to look at her, he said, "Take my arm, the path is very uneven here."

  She tucked her hand into his arm before turning her sparkling eyes on him.

  “This is the Marrakesh I remember, the sounds and smells. I can understand why Louise wanted to stay here.”

  “Yes, and that coupled with my brother’s charms.”

  Laughing at his joke, she held his arm more tightly, feeling him draw closer to her. Suddenly he didn't want to sit in a coffee shop with her. He wanted to hold her tightly under one of the trees and feel her body pressed against his.

  But how would she react? Run back and complain to his brother. No, he reflected, that wouldn't be her style. She was too strong and independent for all of that.

  But she was the one who made the first move. Intoxicated by the sounds and smells in the square, by the array of lights and colors, she pulled him to her and reaching up kissed him on the cheek. His hands instinctively pulled her closer, his mouth reaching for hers.

  Catcalls from a group of youths broke the moment. Stepping back, Emma looked at him, her cheeks aflame.