Bound By The Sultan's Baby. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
the co-ordinator, was rather inflexible at the best of times and they wanted this wedding to be held in just over two weeks!
They made good time as the streets were comparatively empty. The rush of Christmas was over and even the Colosseum was closed to visitors.
Gabi stifled a yawn, wishing that she could put up her own Do not disturb sign to the world for a while.
She had hoped to spend the Christmas break going over the plans for starting her own business. Instead, she had again been called in to work through her leave. She was tired.
Almost too tired to keep alive the dream of one day owning her own business.
She had started working for Matrimoni di Bernadetta when she was eighteen and had hoped that it would provide the experience she needed to one day go it alone.
Six years later, at the age of twenty-four, that prospect seemed no brighter.
Bernadetta had made very sure of that—there was barely time to think, let alone act on her own dreams.
Still, she truly loved her job.
Gabi looked up as the gorgeous old building came into view and they soon pulled up at the entrance.
The car door was opened for them by the doorman, Ronaldo.
‘Ben tornato,’ Ronaldo said, and Gabi realised that it was Fleur and not she he was welcoming back.
Fleur must be a guest. And a favoured one too from the attention that Ronaldo gave her.
As Gabi got out there was a flutter of excitement at the thought that she might soon see Alim.
He was always polite, even if he was somewhat aloof. She didn’t take it personally. Alim was the same with everyone and maintained a certain distance. There was just an air of mystery to him that had Gabi entranced. An entire floor of the Grande Lucia served as Alim’s residence when he was in Rome, and so, through the hotel industry grapevine, Gabi knew more than a little of his reputation. He loved beautiful women and dated as many of them as he could—though one night with him was all they would ever get.
Breakfast was definitely not included in this particular package. In fact, according to Sophie, a friend of Gabi’s and a maid at the Grande Lucia, cold and callous were the most frequent words used to describe him by his lovers after they had been discarded.
That didn’t seem right to Gabi for she always felt warm in his gaze, and when it came to business, his professionalism was never in doubt.
Still, Sophie had told her, for all the tears there were perks for, rumour had it the reward for time spent in Alim’s arms came in the shape of a diamond.
It sounded crass.
Until you saw Alim.
He was completely out of her league, of course, and that was not her being self-effacing. He veered towards slender blondes of the supermodel kind, and women who definitely knew the ropes in the bedroom.
Apparently he had no inclination to teach.
Gabi didn’t mind in the least that Alim was utterly unattainable, for it made it safe for her to dream of him.
There was no sign that he was there when she walked through the brass revolving doors and into the magnificent foyer of the Grande Lucia.
It was almost perfection.
Stunning crimson carpet and silk walls were elegant—even sensual, perhaps—and worked well against the dark wooden furnishings. The space was vast and the ceilings high, yet there was an intimate feel from the moment you walked in, alongside the lovely buzz of a busy hotel.
As a centrepiece, there was a huge, crimson floral display.
Yes, almost perfect.
Gabi had an eye for detail and this arrangement irked her. It never varied, or moved with the times. Instead, there was a perpetual display of deep red roses and carnations and it had become a slight bone of contention when Gabi had negotiated on behalf of her brides.
Marianna came to greet them and took the trio for coffee at one of several intimate lounges just off the foyer.
There they went through a few details and though Marianna was delighted to announce that there was an opening in just over two weeks, she was not going to make it easy for the bride.
‘I do need to verify dates with the owner,’ Marianna said. ‘We’re expecting some VIP guests at the hotel in January so security will be particularly tight. I’m not sure we’ll be able to accommodate you then. Alim has asked to be informed before any dates are locked in...’ She paused and looked up. ‘Oh, there he—’
Marianna halted, causing Gabi to glance up. Alim had just entered the foyer with the requisite stunning blonde.
Gabi guessed, and rightly so, that Alim did not like to be disturbed with minor details every time he made an appearance so Marianna did not alert Mona and Fleur to his presence.
Yet such was his charisma, both women looked over.
And while Marianna might be doing her best not to disrupt Alim’s day, Gabi’s had just been turned on its head.
In the nicest of ways.
He wore a slim dark coat and there was such an air of magnificence about him that he simply turned heads.
Not just for his dark looks—there was more to him than that—but they were rather wonderful to dwell on. His hair was black and glossy and swept back. He stood tall and his posture was so upright he always made Gabi want to pull back her own shoulders.
There was a shift that ran through her body whenever he was near, an awareness that made it difficult to focus on anything other than him, for all else seemed to move to the periphery of her consciousness to allow Alim centre stage.
‘Quanti ospiti?’
Marianna’s voice was coming from a distance and as she asked how many guests for the wedding, it was Mona who answered instead of Gabi.
For Alim had looked over and met her gaze.
He was beautiful.
Always.
Effortlessly elegant, supremely polite, he was the calm, still water to Gabi’s fizz.
She was a dreamer, which meant that though he was out of her league, he was not out of bounds to her thoughts; innocent in body she may be, but not so in her mind.
And as for those eyes, they were a dark grey with silver flecks that spoke silently of the night.
His gaze was a dangerous thing to be held in, Gabi knew, and she was trapped in it now. There was a fire crackling in the grate and there was heat low, low in her stomach and rising to her neck.
She wanted to excuse herself from the conversation and walk over in response to his silent command. She wanted work to be gone, for his lover to disappear, and for Alim to lower her down onto a silken bed.
Just that.
‘Gabi...’ Marianna intruded.
‘Alim,’ his lover called.
But he was making his way over.
‘Va tuto bene?’
He asked if everything was okay, and though his Italian was excellent, it was laced in his own rich accent and rendered Gabi incapable of response, for she had not expected him to come over.
It was Marianna who responded and told him the preferred date for the wedding.
‘That would be fine.’ Alim nodded to Marianna and to the other guests and then he looked directly at Gabi; she found herself staring at his mouth as he spoke, for it was just a little safer than to stare into his eyes. ‘How are you, Gabi?’
‘I am well.’
‘That is good.’
He turned and walked