Modern Romance May 2017 Books 5 – 8. Louise FullerЧитать онлайн книгу.
the man himself.
Yet he was the ruler and his word was law.
Alim had tried to tell himself that just because the diktat had been invoked it did not mean that everything had to change. He would take over more duties while his father had treatment, but his work could continue here. Then he saw Gabi, standing in the foyer, dressed in that awful suit, but now that he had bedded her, she looked more beautiful than ever before and he realised that everything had changed.
The true ramifications were starting to hit home.
It was not even just about sex, for there could be no intimate conversation, no working alongside a woman for whom he harboured such thoughts.
And perhaps, more pointedly, no hope of observing the laws when Gabi was around.
He could only hope that her mood with him was as dark as it had been when she had left his bed this morning, so there would be no need to speak.
Alim could only think in minutes at the moment, so he focussed on getting through the next few and, ignoring her gaze, he walked across the foyer. He wanted to be outside and to walk the streets of Rome.
He had changed his mind by the time he reached the brass doors, for Alim did not, by nature, avoid issues. He turned and walked towards Gabi, and when he saw her smile Alim knew she was going to say yes to the chance for them.
He watched the smile die on her lips as he approached.
‘That offer...’ Alim said, and he hesitated. He had been right when he’d said it would be impossible to work alongside each other and not sleep together.
‘Yes?’
Here was no place to explain the diktat, but they could not be alone. He thought of her in bed this morning, wrapping the sheet around herself when he had tried to explain the rules and how lovers could only be alone in the desert.
Medieval had been her word to describe it.
It would be kinder to simply end it now, Alim knew.
It was also necessary.
He could smell the slight apple scent of her shampoo and could see the soft swelling of her mouth, a remnant from last night’s hot kisses. He thought of how swollen she had been in readiness for him, and he thought of the love they could so easily still make.
Their bodies were aware of each other, they were attuned and wanting but, as of this morning, they were forbidden.
And so he said it, simply ended any hope for them.
‘The offer has been withdrawn.’
He watched the colour drain from her face. He watched her rapid blink, and there was nothing he could do to comfort her.
‘I see,’ Gabi said, even though she didn’t.
Yet she fought for dignity.
And dignity felt like a trapeze that she must grab onto, only Gabi was no acrobat.
She had only just accepted hope, only just accepted the brief possibility of them, and now it had been snatched away.
By him.
Oh, she had known he would hurt her one day, but after the way he had treated her that morning Gabi had never thought it would be today.
She could not even ask why or demand an explanation for she was fighting not to break down. Her nails dug into her palms and her breath was so shallow it made her feel a little giddy.
‘You’ll take care of what we discussed?’ Alim checked.
Gabi looked at him. He was a bastard to the core, she decided, for she would have happily settled for just one night, but he’d ruined that with the glimpse of a dream. So as the imaginary trapeze swung by, she grabbed onto it with one hand and hoped it would quickly carry her away from him and drop her where she could weep unseen.
‘Of course,’ she responded.
‘Gabi...’ His voice husked and he did not continue with whatever it was he had been about to say.
It was Gabi who filled the silence. ‘I need to get on,’ she said. ‘Bernadetta has given me quite a list to get through today.’
And she completed it. Somehow she got through the first day. Gabi and Marianna met with the new bride-to-be and her mother.
‘We have the last Saturday in July available,’ Marianna informed them.
‘No, I want August,’ the bride-to-be said.
‘I’m sorry.’ Marianna shook her head. ‘Summer weddings have to be booked a long way in advance.’
‘It’s more than six months away!’ the bride insisted.
‘You are lucky that we have this one available.’
And Gabi just sat there.
Usually she would make soothing noises to take the edge off Marianna’s slightly scolding tone.
She had been about to throw in her job, Gabi thought in horror. So trusting had she been that she had almost given Bernadetta her notice.
The numbness was fading, replaced now by a burn of anger as she watched Alim walk through the foyer.
Elegant, beautiful, it looked as if he had not a care in the world.
The rumours were true. Cold and callous did suit him. Alim did not look in her direction. She had been, Gabi knew, dismissed from his life.
And then the anger faded as she began to feel bereft. Soon followed by fear.
GABI DID NOT take care of things as the Sultan had ordered.
Though not out of recklessness or spite.
The first few days had felt like a bereavement, though not one she could ring in to work and explain about.
What could she say? Bernadetta, I slept with Alim and he promised me the world and then dumped me.
At best, she was a fool to have believed at all. Yet his behaviour made no sense to Gabi, for he had not offered her anything in the heat of passion. It had all been in the calm coolness of the morning, after hours of thinking, he had said.
So Gabi had somehow remembered to breathe as she’d fought not to cry and had done her best to get on with her work.
And by the time the fog had if not lifted then parted enough to take care of anything other than the seconds ahead, she had gone to the farmacia, only to find out that she had left it too late.
Late.
It became her most used word.
She was a day late, but put it down to stress.
A week late, but that happened at times.
And then she was late for work two days in a row because even the scent of her favourite morning coffee had her hunched over the bathroom sink.
Terror was her new friend.
Not just that she was pregnant, but by whom.
The more she found out about Zethlehan and the more she discovered about the power of the royals there, the more acute her terror became.
‘Pregnant?’
‘Yes,’ Gabi had said to her mother.
It was a gorgeous spring morning.
Gabi had come from a weekend at the stunning Castelli vineyard, where the wedding had gone off beautifully, and she had told herself it was time. It had taken three months for Gabi to finally find the courage to tell her mother.
‘Who is the father?’ Carmel had asked.
And when Gabi had not answered,