Читать книгу Modern Romance May 2017 Books 5 – 8 - Bella Frances, Louise Fuller - Страница 18
Оглавление‘THE CONTRACTS ARE still with Bastiano?’ Alim frowned when Violetta gave him the news. ‘This should all have been dealt with by now.’
Despite Alim’s rapid departure, an offer on the Grande Lucia had been made and accepted, but nearly three months later the sale seemed to have stalled.
Alim needed the hotel gone!
He sat in his sumptuous office in the palace and tried to take care of business with a mind that was elsewhere.
Seeing Gabi again had proved to be his undoing.
Temptation beckoned more with each passing day but never more so than now.
A wedding was being held there this weekend and Matrimoni di Bernadetta was the company that had been hired for the event.
The itinerary was open on his computer and Alim scrolled through it, hoping for a glimpse of her name, or a note that she might have left in the margins, as Gabi often did.
There was none, though.
‘Do you want me to contact his attorney?’ Violetta asked, but Alim shook his head.
‘I will speak with Bastiano myself,’ Alim said.
He might even speak with him face to face.
Alim was sorely tempted to summon the royal jet, with the excuse of meeting with Bastiano, but really for the chance to see Gabi.
He was dangerously close to breaking the diktat.
‘That will be all,’ Alim said, and, having dismissed Violetta, he attempted to deal with the day’s correspondence.
He didn’t get very far.
It had been months since he had seen Gabi again but the feelings had not faded.
If anything, they had intensified for, despite the pressure his father and the elders exerted, Alim was no closer to agreeing to a wedding.
His mind was in Rome, rather than here in Zethlehan, where it should belong.
He thought of the days he had loved most at the Grande Lucia.
Gabi, arriving early in the morning, and how she would become increasingly frazzled throughout the working day.
And he thought too of the wedding nights, and how she would finally relax again and enjoy watching the show she had produced.
He missed her.
Not the risqué life he had once led, but the small moments that were now long gone—stepping through the brass doors and seeing her sitting in the lounge with Marianna. Knowing that there would be another wedding soon and the chance to see her again had brought him more pleasure than he had realised at the time.
His times at the hotel had been made better by her—the scent of flowers coming from the ballroom and Gabi directing brass trolleys laden with gifts and arrangements...
Alim missed those times.
And they would soon be gone for ever.
He had done all he could to sever his ties to Rome, yet it felt as if his heart had been left there.
He looked up as his mother knocked at his open office door and he shook his head.
‘Not now,’ Alim said.
‘Yes, now,’ Rina said and came in.
He had always been polite—if a little distant—with others, though now he was stone cold.
The vast palace felt too small, and there was no company that he wished to keep.
Unless it was Gabi’s.
‘How are you, Alim?’
Alim didn’t even bother to lie and pretend that he was fine, he just gave a shrug. ‘I am trying to chase up the contracts for the Grande Lucia. I think I might need to make a trip to Italy.’
‘When?’
‘Soon,’ Alim said.
He would be courting temptation if he went back this weekend, Alim knew, yet he had to see Gabi.
‘I have just held the morning meeting with your father. He thinks that a wedding would cheer Yasmin up.’
‘I am not going to marry to provide a remedy for my sister’s mood.’
‘What about your mood, Alim?’ Rina said. ‘You are not happy.’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But I do not need to be happy to do my work.’ And there was indeed work to be done so he gestured for his mother to take a seat. ‘Kaleb’s thirtieth is coming up...’
But his mother was not here about that. ‘I am concerned, Alim. I thought once you were home you might be happy, but it has been months now...’
‘I love my land.’
‘Yet you make no commitment to remain here?’
‘You mean a bride?’ Always the conversation led back to that. ‘A bride is not the solution.’
‘Then tell me the problem.’
‘No.’
He did not share his thoughts, let alone his feelings, with others. In fact, until recently he had refused to examine them.
Life had always been about duty and work and solving problems logically.
Now, for the first time in his life, he could not come up with a solution to the dilemma he faced.
‘Alim,’ his mother implored. ‘Speak to me.’
He did not know how to start.
‘I might understand,’ Rina insisted.
Yes, she just might, Alim thought, for there was no doubt that hers was a loveless marriage.
‘Just before the diktat was invoked I met someone,’ Alim said, but, even as he explained things, he knew that wasn’t quite right. ‘I have liked her for a couple of years but I always stayed back. Things got more serious just before I was summoned home. I left her without any real explanation and when I returned to Rome the other month...’
He didn’t finish. Alim could not explain the sadness in Gabi’s eyes, neither did he want to reveal the ache in his heart and the regret for the year together that had been denied them.
Alim knew it could never have been more than a year; his father would never give his approval to Gabi.
No, his bride would be from Zethlehan. In fact, his father had whittled it down to the final three—the one who would uphold tradition and best serve the country, and was deeply schooled in their ways, would be Oman’s choice.
‘I am thinking of going to Rome to see her.’
His mother was quiet for some considerable time and when she spoke her voice was strained and laced with fear. ‘Have you broken the diktat, Alim?’
‘No.’
He heard his mother breathe out in relief. ‘That’s good, then.’
‘How can it be good?’
All that mattered to them was that he abided by the rules, no matter the cost to himself.
‘There is a desert out there, Alim,’ Rina said, and he stood and looked out the window; the reproach in his voice was aimed at himself, for of course he had considered it.
‘Gabi will not be coming to the desert. She would never even entertain the thought.’
‘She does not have to reside there,’ Rina said. ‘She could visit now and then and once you are married, once you have an heir...’ It was a difficult conversation to have. ‘Well, then the rules relax.’
And he threw his mother a look. ‘Do you think I would do to my wife what my father did to you?’
The poorly kept secret was finally being discussed.
‘I would never impose a loveless marriage on a bride,’ Alim said, and then he closed his eyes because that was exactly what it would be, and the reason that, despite mounting pressure, still he refused marriage. ‘I hate how you have been treated,’ Alim told his mother.
He thought of them smiling on the palace balcony or waving and chatting as they arrived at a function.
Then the relative silence that would descend when they returned to their private lives—his mother would retreat to her wing, his father to his.
‘Do I look unhappy, Alim?’ Rina asked.
He looked over. No, her features were relaxed and, as she often did, Rina smiled her gentle smile.
‘You barely communicate,’ Alim pointed out, but his mother shook her head. ‘I have just come from a meeting with your father—we have one each working day.’
Alim accepted that, but that was for the running of the country—a private life between them did not exist. ‘You sleep in a separate wing of the palace.’
‘And we do so at my request,’ Rina said. ‘Alim, I love my country. Growing up, I always knew that I would likely be chosen and that I would one day be queen. I did my duty, I had three beautiful children who I have raised well; I continue to work hard for my country and I live a very privileged life.’
Rina knew she needed to say more.
Oh, she was very schooled in the rules, and had studied them closely.
Yes, Zethlehan was progressive in many ways, for all needs were served.
Save love, for it was not taken into consideration in the rules.
Still, it was a delicate topic and Rina took a moment to consider before she spoke on. ‘Alim, just because I don’t have a loving marriage, it does not mean that I don’t know love.’
Distracted by his thoughts of Gabi, it took a moment for his mother’s words to sink in and he looked up at her.
Was she telling him that she had a lover?
That the times her husband was away were not so lonely after all, that she had her own reasons for sleeping in a separate wing of the palace?
The silence between them was loaded but Rina gave a slight shake of her head. ‘I am saying no more than that.’
It was as if every grain of desert sand had shifted as his mother told him without detail that she was happy. That somehow their relationship had been made to work for them.
‘Your father and I have made it work for everyone...’ Then she saw Alim’s jaw tighten and amended, ‘I do feel sorry for James,’ she admitted. ‘He deserves more of his father.’ It was the first time his name had been spoken within these walls. ‘That should have been handled better, but it is your father who makes the rules.’
Alim nodded.
‘Talk to your love, Alim.’
‘I did not say anything about love.’
‘Talk to your lover, then. That is the one solution to all ills.’
‘How?’ he asked. ‘She would never come to the desert.’
‘I have studied this very closely.’ Rina smiled and tapped the hated large, leather-bound file that sat on his desk. ‘There is nowhere in the diktat that mentions phones.’
Alim smiled.
‘If anyone can sort things out, it is you.’
Alim was not so sure but he knew that neither distance nor silence was working.
And it was for that reason that he picked up the phone and, rather than chase up Bastiano regarding the sale, he called the reception desk at the Grande Lucia.
‘Pronto. May I speak with Gabi?’
‘Gabi?’ The female voice that answered was an unfamiliar one and didn’t seem to know to whom Alim was referring.
‘She is organising a wedding there,’ he explained.
‘Oh, that Gabi!’ came the response, and it was clear that she now knew who Alim meant. ‘I think she is still on maternity leave.’
‘Maternity leave?’
The palace must be sitting on a fault line, Alim thought, because for the second time in an hour the sands seemed to shift.
‘I think you have the wrong person,’ he said, but the receptionist wasn’t listening—she was talking to a colleague. Alim could hear his rapid breathing as in the background a male voice spoke and then the receptionist amended her words.
‘No, no, my mistake.’
Alim didn’t even have a chance to register relief before she spoke again.
‘Apparently Gabi is back from her leave today.’
Alim’s mind worked rapidly,
If indeed Gabi had been on maternity leave then the baby had to be his. It was practically nine months to the day since they had slept together and she had certainly been a virgin then.
Yet the dates confused him. Alim certainly wasn’t an expert in pregnancy, but this woman was telling him that Gabi was already back from maternity leave.
Alim thought of the last time he had seen Gabi and she hadn’t looked pregnant, but, then again, he had done all he could not to look at her.
Alim knew that he had to speak with Gabi.
Alone.
But how?
A possibility was starting to come to mind and when he spoke his voice was even and calm, for Alim rarely revealed his emotions.
‘Actually, rather than Gabi, may I speak with Bernadetta?’
‘Can I ask who is calling?’
‘It is Alim.’
He heard her nervous gasp. ‘Sultan al—’
Alim spoke over her, for his patience was running out. ‘Just get Bernadetta on the line.’
He stood and, just as he had needed air the day his father had invoked the diktat, he walked out of the French windows and onto the large balcony.
Unlike then, the air was not cool, it was hot and dry, though it was calming to Alim and he gladly breathed it in, his eyes narrowing against the fierce sun as he looked out at the desert.
He could speak with Gabi there, unheard by others; only there could they discuss things fully.
There was no doubt a frantic search was under way at the Grande Lucia for the rather elusive Bernadetta and it gave time for Alim’s plans to take better shape.
‘Pronto,’ he said when a nervous Bernadetta finally came to the phone.
‘Sultan Alim...’ Bernadetta attempted to purr into the phone but it was more of a croak. ‘How lovely to hear from you. It’s been a long time.’
‘Indeed. I was wondering,’ Alim said, ‘if Matrimoni di Bernadetta had the necessary skills to co-organise a royal wedding here in Zethlehan.’
He heard her slight gasp. ‘Of course. It would be not just an honour but a pleasure...’ Bernadetta fawned but Alim swiftly broke in.
‘Then I need Gabi here by tomorrow,’
‘Gabi? Oh, no, I wouldn’t be sending my assistant!’ Bernadetta immediately responded. ‘I would take care of every detail myself—’
‘Bernadetta,’ Alim interrupted her again. ‘You have a good head for business and you hire only the best, but we both know that it is Gabi who turns a wedding into an unforgettable creation.’
He soothed her vast ego yet he got to the point.
‘I want Gabi here.’
‘Indeed, she’s excellent, but Gabi might not be available to travel at short notice. You see, she has recently—’
Alim swiftly cut in. He did not want Bernadetta to reveal that Gabi had just had a baby. Alim was very well aware that should Gabi find out that he knew, there would not be a hope in hell of getting her to agree to come to Zethlehan.
Yet he wanted Gabi to tell him to his face.
‘I don’t care how busy she is with the current wedding. I do not care about her personal life and whether she has plans that she cannot change. If you want the contract for the wedding, then Gabi is to be here by tomorrow.’
Alim spoke like the Sultan he was and Bernadetta responded accordingly.
‘And she shall be.’
Alim let out a breath and there followed a giddy sensation of relief that had nothing to do with what he had just discovered.
More that he would finally see Gabi.
She had been missed more than even Alim had wanted to admit.
‘If, when you meet with Gabi,’ Bernadetta said, ‘you have any concerns...’
‘I shan’t be meeting with Gabi,’ Alim said, anticipating Gabi’s resistance to the suggestion that she come here. ‘I am only making this initial contact. I don’t want to be troubled with minor details. From now on, everything will be dealt with by the palace aide, Violetta.’
He gave Bernadetta a few more rapid details and then ended the call.
He looked out at the desert again and the golden sight soothed, for there solutions could more readily be found.
Alim walked back into his office, trying to take in that he could well be a father and trying to fathom all that Gabi would have been through.
He summoned Violetta.
She was more than used to dealing with scandal and had her work cut out for her in dealing with the al-Lehans.
And not just his father and James, Alim now knew, for it would seem that even his mother had a secret life of her own. One that Alim had had no clue about.
A baby.
He did not know if it was a boy or girl and Alim knew all the problems it could create.
Yet as he waited for Violetta to arrive, despite the news, his overriding feeling was relief.
Gabi would be here soon.
He looked up as Violetta came in and, without asking, she closed the door and came over to the desk.
‘I require your discretion,’ Alim said.
‘You have it.’
Violetta, too, was brilliant at her job.
