The Scandal Behind the Wedding

by Bella Frances

  She knew what he meant. Even in her complex there were stories of how badly some of the house staff had been treated before the company she worked for had taken it over. And that Danny cared enough to factor this in was no surprise. One more good quality in amongst the others.

  ‘But even with what I’ve built up I still need a backer. And Salim is someone I respect. He’s more than money. He’s principled. He gets it. He knows that Dubai has built up a reputation as well as a tourist industry. And he cares about his culture. It’s all about respect. I respect him and I expect the same in return. So in terms of this week he’ll appreciate that we are married. It gives me an air of respectability too, Georgia. And, though he may suspect that it’s more of a business arrangement than a love-match, it would be good to have a story without holes. There will be less embarrassment that way. For all concerned.’

  She nodded. She could do this. If the net result of it was that hundreds of families benefited, then she was totally going to be there for Danny.

  ‘That will require us to act like a newly married couple whilst behaving modestly. Are you going to be able to do that? Without it meaning anything?’

  He was focussed on her. Intently. The sharp, intelligent eyes reading her.

  She swallowed. ‘I know what this is, Danny. And I know what it’s not.’

  He nodded. ‘I think we have to broach this, Georgia. There’s no point in glossing over it.’ He lifted her hand again. ‘I think when we started this it was quite simple. I’m incredibly attracted to you. You’re a sharp, beautiful girl. And we cooked up a plan to get us both out of trouble. But things have run away from us a bit. Maybe that was inevitable—but we need to get it back on track before we go.’

  ‘I know. I agree. And it should be simple—shouldn’t it? It’s not as if we’re going to be on each other’s continent, never mind in the same social circles, after this week. I think we’ll be able to cope.’

  She tried to give him a reassuring smile. Tried to reassure herself too. She would miss him—the fast pace, the sensation of being with a human furnace that made things happen, got things done. He was a man of power. And of honour.

  ‘Can we pull it off, Georgia? The physical side? Without getting burned?’

  His fingers traced circles in her palm and the sparkle of desire flew straight to her core, lighting a hot path. She stared into those pure blue eyes. Could they pull it off? She had no doubt he could. But she was under no illusions.

  This was going to be a week she would look back upon and wonder at. She’d be able to dine out on the story with her girlfriends. Kirsty and the rest had sent countless messages already, and she’d give them the truth—one day.

  ‘I think we can pull off the physical side very well. I don’t think anyone will doubt that we are attracted to each other.’

  ‘Oh, I have no doubt that people will see exactly how attracted we are.’

  He lifted his hand to her face, trailed his knuckles down her cheek, let his thumb drag across her bottom lip. Lit an instant trail of lust. He leaned forward for a kiss. She felt the full push of his tongue inside her mouth. Zero to incendiary again.

  He pushed her down on the bed. Leaned over her. Took his fill of her mouth. Kissed her. Mastered her. The same as before. She allowed him to take and to dominate. And then she gave it back. Directed the kiss to suit her. Suckled his bottom lip, loving the sensual play and the thrill of tasting and touching. He let her take what she wanted. She moaned her pleasure. He swallowed it and breathed his own right back. They were so perfectly matched. It was so easy to give in because everything was so—right.

  As long as she didn’t give too much. As long as she held something back. Losing herself in him, surrendering—the temptation was immense. But she mustn’t.

  She pulled away, breathless. Turned her face to the side to say what was etched in her heart, scared that if she didn’t say it now she might never say it. And he had to know—she had to keep him onside to help her get through these days intact.

  ‘I can only do this if we don’t take it any further than we already have. I’m being honest with you, Danny. I’ve already done things—felt things—that I never imagined doing or feeling before. And if we... If I sleep with you I think I might lose a bit of myself. For ever.’

  He leaned back immediately. Straight arms. Reared himself up. ‘Georgia, I appreciate your honesty.’

  She kept her head twisted away. Stared at the sofa, the candles, the bottles of water on the bar. Stared at the daybreak stealing in through the white-veiled French doors, seeping onto the dark wooden floor, beginning one more day for her as Mrs Ryan. She stared at the honeymoon suite and imprinted its details on her mind.

  She felt him shift his weight away from her on the bed. She’d panicked him?

  But he sat beside her, lifted her hand to pull her up. Cuddled her under the strength of his arm. Pressed her head to his chest and smoothed down her hair.

  ‘There’s no point in pretending, Georgia. If you were going to stay on here in Dubai maybe we could see where it went—but even then it would be hard, you know... Married in the eyes of the world but really just getting to know one another. I don’t know...’

  He rocked her a little, held her while she let those words fall into place. She imagined for a moment that she might stay on in this oven of a city. She wouldn’t need to work as much—could stop the coaching and the extra tutoring. Could slip back into the life she’d enjoyed for a while with Nick, where every day had been sugar-coated and the future had sparkled temptingly.

  But was that really who she was? Would she feel fulfilled teaching the privileged as opposed to those to whom she could really make a difference? And, anyway, it would only last as long as Danny was interested in her. Because even with more money, and being able to hang out with her friends, life in Dubai would be dry and barren and arid without his heat and light. And worse would be watching him move on with his life when they crashed and burned.

  No, she could not frame that in her head. Better to cut her ties, resign from her job and start over back in the UK.

  ‘I’m not staying, Danny. There’s too much waiting for me back in London. My sister, my old job—being able to go from the house to the car to the shops without burning or freezing to death in air-conditioning. And not having to worry every day about my skin.’

  ‘I can’t offer you anything more than this week, Georgia.’

  It was as if he hadn’t heard her.

  ‘I can’t promise that we could ever make a go of things. But I am sure that we will never forget this time together. And I genuinely think we’ll stay friends after this. I don’t...I can’t actually imagine not having you in my life in some way.’

  Like a dip in the pool on a hot afternoon...like fireside warmth on a cold, damp day...she let his words wrap around her. Absorbed for a moment what he’d said. And then dismissed it.

  He’d be so wrapped up in reaching his next milestone there’d be no way he’d have the time, never mind the inclination, to keep in touch. He hardly saw his family—how would he find time to meet up with a girl? A friend? But she wasn’t going to blow holes in that particular statement right now. That would take care of itself in time.

  ‘That’s a lovely thing to say, Danny. And I would like it to be true. So, yes, let’s leave it at that. And I really appreciate you understanding my position and not pressuring me. Thanks.’

  ‘Georgia, the very last thing I would ever want
to do is put you under any pressure. You’ve already gone above and beyond in agreeing to help me out like this. My sister’s right—she usually is, to be fair—but she nailed it when she said you must be some girl. You are. And you can trust me to pull back now, keep things professional—how about that?’

  He chuckled as he said it, his laughter lines crinkling and that sensational smile brightening his face. He was right back in the game.

  ‘I’ve been in training for this business meeting for months. I can feel the adrenalin—it’s like pre-match nerves. I feel wired.’

  He stood up. Put out his hand for hers. Pulled her to her feet.

  ‘Come on, partner—let’s get some breakfast and start to bring this home.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SLOE-EYED AND DOE-EYED. The salon Georgia was seated in was overflowing with Arabian beauties. Sisters, cousins and wives of Salim and his brothers. Dressed in an array of stunning clothes, bare-headed and beautiful.

  Gilded chaises, Arabic mosaic floors and Islamic ceilings—the palace was the last word in luxury. Plates of dates and petits fours that nobody touched. Polite, intelligent charming conversation from the senior members of the family. Itchy, impatient whining from the littlest—the ones with whom she had most sympathy. It was all she could do not to drop onto the floor beside them and start to play clapping games.

  The men, of course, were in another room. Just as Danny had described. He’d been at pains—in fact he’d almost been a pain—to describe what he thought would happen and make sure she was not going to be caught out.

  They would be separated almost immediately. He would be taken off for a polite reception and then straight on to business talks with the back-up of his legal team, who were travelling separately. Georgia would be entertained by the women and then pampered to within an inch of her life before they all got together again. Then there would be two separate parties tonight, with the men finally joining the women towards the end of the night.

  Their story was simple, and as close to the truth as they could make it. They’d met at a party—true. It had been in one of Dubai’s international hotels—also true. They’d lost touch and then been reintroduced and the rest was extremely public history.

  Wasn’t it just?

  Danny had been relentless about drilling into her new information about his business—large, multi-national engineering—his background—the Sheikh loved horse racing too—his UAE habits—eighteen-hour days, the occasional game of rugby...yes, that was how he’d got the bump on his nose...and most surprisingly his Canteen Charity project.

  He’d brushed over that quickly but she’d paused and looked right at him as they’d sat together on his jet for their tiny flight into the desert.

  ‘You feed the families of your workforce?’

  He’d looked uncomfortable, shrugged. ‘Not my workforce—the construction workers. You know how bad the poverty is for some of the immigrants here. We’ve all got to do our bit. And it keeps me grounded. It’s very easy out here to get lost in the luxury.’

  She’d looked at him again. More closely. This powerhouse, this driven, intense, testosterone-fuelled man. It really was no surprise that he had a compassionate side too. She’d seen the way his face had softened when he’d spoken about his mother, when he’d read the text from his sister, when he’d realised he’d overstepped the mark with Georgia herself.

  And this attention to detail for people close and far away—she could see more and more clearly that he was the consummate risk-manager when it came to business. And, though he’d been furious at getting sold an invitation to a dodgy party, he’d simply focussed on the solution and powered ahead.

  It was awe-inspiring how much effort he was putting into pulling this off. He’d covered more angles than the princess cut diamond that flashed on her finger. He’d messaged ahead to say that he would be bringing his new wife with him—omitting, of course, to say just how new she was. But there was no need. Their story had been run in the dailies and on the celebrity news feeds in various parts of the world so it was no secret. And Danny was more and more convinced that they’d done the right thing.

  When she’d questioned again whether they’d really had to go through with a ceremony, he’d said, ‘Sheikh Salim would have found out in seconds that we weren’t properly married. No amount of stories would have prevented rumour and speculation. And business with a tainted business partner would not have been sanctioned at all—no matter what foundations we’d already laid down. It’s still a huge gamble but the odds are much better this way. Trust me.’

  And she did.

  Danny had played his part beautifully and helped her to do the same. From the moment they’d walked down the steps onto the Tarmac at the Sheikh’s private airstrip he’d been attentive, polite, charming, respectful and appropriately distant. For that she was grateful. Distance was a commodity she was going to have in spades next week. It would be good to start having a taste of it now.

  Energy suddenly filled the room. Men in dish-dashas swarmed in, calling and chattering. The women seemed delighted. And there stood Danny at the back, looking pleased, relaxed and focussed. His eyes were on her. Only on her.

  Salim addressed her. ‘My dear, your husband has indeed the strongest work ethic of any of us. Imagine that yesterday was your wedding day—and here you are today, waiting while we conclude our talks. But I have spared you any more waiting. We will leave the legal teams to sort out the details—your wedding must be celebrated!’

  Danny made his way over. She felt all eyes on them, but his were like a beacon, calling her home. He was smiling his half-smile. He looked confident. He looked happy. He looked as if the world was at his feet. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly, his eyes never leaving hers. She wanted to ask if the deal was done—had he pulled it off? She wanted to cover him in kisses and tell him how wonderful he was.

  But they’d agreed on a business partnership. It was all about the show. And now she had to take her cue from him—had to be restrained and reserved. She had to play her part respectfully and cause absolutely no ripples other than ripples of satisfaction for Salim that his guests were acting appropriately, as befit his status.

  ‘Georgia and I are delighted that you have taken such trouble to welcome us and to help us celebrate, Salim. And Georgia is completely part of the plan—she’s supported me so well since I’ve known her and this project means a lot to her too.’

  Salim turned. He was a smaller man than Danny, but broader, and his imposing presence was softened by a very down-to-earth openness.

  ‘Yes, I understand sport is a big part of your life too? You coach junior football?’

  He began to walk her through the room. She felt Danny slip into place behind them, busy in conversation. A slight feeling of panic fluttered through her. She was so anxious that she didn’t let him down. And Salim had done his homework. Clearly...

  ‘Yes, I coach girls and boys from four to eight.’ She smiled. ‘I know it’s a bit unusual. I fell into it by accident when I was volunteering at a local youth club. They needed activities to get young kids hooked into, to stop them prowling the streets—and, believe it or not, I am actually quite good at it.’

  ‘I believe it easily, my dear. And I know of at least one young lady who would love to go to your club, were it close at hand.’ He pointed out one of the more boisterous young girls, whose energy and smile were compelling. ‘My youngest daughter, Samira. She never sits still a
nd can do amazing things with a ball. Did you play when you were her age?’

  They were now on the outdoor walkway that lined one side of this great palace. Marble such as she’d never seen before was laid out in vast strips inlaid with contrasting diagonal patterns. Huge domes gleamed and Arabian archways stretched across a myriad of criss-crossing pathways, broader than ten soccer pitches. Palms in regular dots broke up the lines and sharp angles, the tiers of grass and vast stairways.

  It was easily the most spectacular space she had ever seen. Truly palatial and magnificent. She might have been overawed by the ostentatious opulence, but the low, easy tones of Danny behind her soothed her nerves. She could do this. Of course she could.

  ‘I suppose I must have played—I don’t really remember.’

  ‘You grew up without a mother and father—is that right? That must have given you a different childhood?’

  Slightly startled by the frankness of the question, Georgia faltered for a second. ‘Yes, my childhood was definitely different. But it was completely filled with love—and for me, that’s the most important thing.’

  ‘Love is always the most important thing,’ Salim replied as he walked, and she felt the echo of his words and the dull strike of his heels. ‘It soothes so many pains. But it can create its own problems when it is not nurtured and protected.’

  She stepped along beside him. Silence fell as she digested his words. Was he implying something about their marriage? Or about her childhood?

  ‘All I know is that children who are loved unconditionally and consistently are those who are better able to take their place in the world.’

  The Sheikh paused and the whole troupe that followed also paused. ‘And of course that is what you will do—you and Danny—for your own children. If you are blessed as I have been.’