“Yes, and um, I’m bringing him. Layth.”
“You’re bringing Layth Sati here? To our flat?”
“Uh huh.” She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was shimmering from the inside out, like a glow worm in the ancient caves of the Top End of Australia. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled. She was happy. Truly, truly happy.
“Shit. The place is a dive. You haven’t been here so I’ve been completely slack and lazy.”
“Don’t worry about that. I don’t think he’s expecting anything near his usual standards …”
“Cassie, what does this mean? Why is he coming here?”
A frown momentarily darkened the visage of her happiness. “It doesn’t mean anything. Nothing’s changed. It’s a rainy day. We’re just looking for something to do. Trust me, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“So you’re still insisting this is just sex? This guy that you’ve practically moved in with?”
“Yep.”
The silence hummed between them. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
Cassie laughed as she pressed the end button and moved out into the lounge. Layth was where she’d left him. “Ready?”
He turned around, his eyes scanning her thoughtfully. She looked good in couture. Not that she ever didn’t look good. Naked, or in her running gear, or wrapped in a towel or head to toe Givenchy as she was today, she looked great. Good enough to eat.
But she suited couture. She suited the beautiful, expensive, demure clothes he’d selected. Clothes that hinted at her fantastic curves without exposing them. He walked to her purposefully, and linked his arms behind her waist. “You look beautiful.”
She smiled up at him. “Easy to do when you’re wearing a small fortune.”
“It’s not the clothes. It’s you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. “This is for you.”
“Oh.” She thought guiltily of the necklace she still hadn’t worn. “What is it?”
He flicked the top, holding the box so that she could see inside. It was an enormous diamond ring, surrounded by some kind of pale blue gem stone in a small circlet.
She stared at the piece, and then lifted her confused gaze back to his face. “What is this?”
“Not an engagement ring,” he drawled with a small smile. He slid it onto the middle finger of her right hand. It fit perfectly.
“I don’t understand. Why?”
“Because I wanted to give you something. Something you could always wear and think of me.”
When he was gone.
The conclusion to the sentence was an enormous tangle of emotion and it jumbled between them. “Thank you,” she said, knowing she wouldn’t wear it ever again, once he was engaged to another woman. How could she wear something like this from a man who’d pledged himself to another?
She swallowed and plastered a smile on her face. “Ready to go?’
He linked his fingers through hers. “Yes.”
The driver made short work of the London streets, pulling up outside her apartment in record time. “You live in a post office?”
She rolled her eyes. “I live above a post office.” The driver held a large umbrella out over the car door, keeping them dry as they crossed to the shiny red door. Cassie inserted her key in the lock and pushed the door inwards.
The staircase was narrow and spiralled. Layth had to duck as he cleared the first twist so as to avoid bumping his head. “Yeah, we never really noticed that,” Cassie grinned. “Both Melinda and I are equally challenged in the height department.”
The apartment was painted a moss green colour, and the carpet was cream. The walls were, of course, adorned with a stunning selection of artwork. He was fascinated by her personal taste. He had expected modern, bold and bright, but Cassie had opted for soft, floaty pieces, reminiscent of the Impressionists. Hazy and ethereal, somehow wistful.
Melinda must have run around like a wildling. Far from looking like the bomb site Cassie had expected, the apartment was almost immaculate. The smell of brewing caffeine hit Cassie and she sighed with relief. “Coffee.”
Melinda was in the kitchen, leaning against the bench with a slightly belligerent look on her face. She was staring at the table. Cassie followed her gaze and frowned at the equally obstinate figure of Renee.
“Well, well, what’s going on here?”
Melinda’s cheeks glowed red. “He didn’t want to leave.”
Cassie burst out laughing. “I see.” She moved to Renee and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His smile was laced with annoyance.
Cassie looked from her best friend to the barman, a bemused look as she tried to comprehend just what was going on. No. She understood what was going on, just not when it had happened, nor how.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” Melinda snapped out of her mood in order to greet the imposing Layth Sati. He was enormous. The kitchen was not large anyway, but with his hulking frame in the mix, it felt crowded and suffocating. Or was that just her?
“Please, call me Layth.”
“Oh, Mel won’t be able to do that.” Cassie teased, moving her slender frame between her friend and the wall to reach the coffee pot. “It’s in the job.”
“I work for the UN,” she said with a nod. “I don’t think I could call you anything but by your title even if I had a gun to my head.”
His smile was a flicker. “Even if I said I don’t like my title?”
“I suppose if it’s a diplomatic request,” she pretended to think about it. She nodded. “Fine, Layth.”
“And Renee you know?” Cassie prompted, remembering belatedly the deal Layth had made to be informed when Cassie returned to the bar.
“Of course.” He nodded at the French man.
“Well,” Cassie leaned against the window, coffee mug in hand. “This should be fun.” Her eyes lifted to Layth’s. As usual, knowledge and understanding passed between them. It was just the two of them, in their own world. They blocked everyone out effortlessly.
Cassie shooed Renee and Layth from the kitchen, and then fixed her steady blue gaze on Melinda. “Well?” She prompted.
Melinda shrugged. “Well, what?”
“You and Renee…?”
Her green eyes dropped to the bench. “What?”
“I thought you were totally against this. What happened?”
Melinda pulled some eggs out of the fridge, then reached for the mushrooms. But Cassie took them from her hands and shook her head. “Nope. No distractions. Tell me everything.”
“There’s no time to tell you everything. And anyway, I’d rather hear what’s going on between you and that prince out there.” She shook her head with disbelief. “Royalty, in our little place.”
“Yeah, I know. But you forget about the royal thing after a while.”
“You do?”
“Sort of.”
“And what is this? Is it real?” She lifted Cassie’s hand, her eyes catching the diamond.
Cassie bit down on her lip and nodded. “He gave it to me this morning.”
“Kind of an extravagant gift for someone you’re just shagging.”
“He’s a prince. You said it yourself. He’s different to us. To him, this is the equivalent of a box of chocolates or some flowers.”
“Right,” she shook her head. “If you say so.”
Cassie began to crack the eggs into a mixing bowl. “When did you and Renee reach this new understanding?”
Melinda reached for her mug and lifted it to her lips. “The other night. When you didn’t come out with us.” She sighed. “He got talking to me. I found him … interesting. One thing led to another …”
Cassie’s smile was bright. “I’m so happy for you, honey.”
“Yeah well, don’t go getting ahead of yourself. It’s still very early days and I want to take it slowly. I’m too busy at work to be distracted.”
“Mmm,” Cassie nodded, but she was smiling. In her opinion, distractions came along whether you want
ed them or not, and ignoring them was almost impossible.
At least, it had been that way for her and Layth.
“Why are you giving him a hard time?”
“Renee? I didn’t want to answer questions about us yet. I told him to go when you called. But he told me to stop being afraid. He has a way with words, you know.”
“Yes.”
Cassie felt a prickle of excitement for her friend. Renee was a great guy and he certainly seemed smitten by Melinda.
“Just enjoy it while you can. Don’t overthink it.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
Cassie’s gaze drifted to Melinda’s. She nodded, but her worry was obvious.
“Cass?” Mel braced her hip on the bench, so that she could look at her friend. “What’s the deal here?”
“I’ve told you. It’s just a fling. It’s kind of weird, knowing that it will end, and when, but at least it saves all those angsty questions of ‘where is this going?’. I know where it’s going. So does he.”
“Which is nowhere. So why bother?”
Cassie flinched inwardly at the crude – but correct – assessment. “Because it’s fun. And because I can’t not. I just know I need this.”
“You’re going to get hurt.”
Cassie nodded. “I know.”
Melinda stared at the profile of her best friend. What could she say? Her role in this little drama was clear. She would have her scene – and it would be in a week’s time. When Layth departed and Cassie was left heartbroken and miserable, Melinda would be the one to pick up the pieces. She stroked her friend’s hair and smiled. “Then enjoy it. We’ll cope with what happens as it happens.”
Cassie fixed her eyes on her friend’s. “Thank you.”
Breakfast was a surprisingly convivial affair, given the undercurrent of tension between Renee and a slightly sulking Melinda. Cassie watched the byplay between them with amusement. An emotion evidently shared by Layth. When their eyes met, she could see the same smile in his expression as she felt in her soul.
It highlighted something terrifying to Cassie.
Where Melinda and Renee were in the awkward new stages of a relationship, and were still feeling one another out; she and Layth had progressed far beyond that to companionable understanding. They mightn’t have known one another long – two weeks exactly – but the intensity of their relationship and the time they’d spent together had welded them in a way that might otherwise have taken months.
“Okay, it’s time for you to go,” Melinda said, scraping her cutlery to the middle of the plate. She eyed Renee as though he was threatening them all with something truly heinous.
Cassie was appalled. “Melinda…”
“Relax. I’m going with him.” Her cheeks flared pink. “Come on.” She reached a hand out and Renee put his in it with a smug wink at Cassie.
“Did I not tell you I’d win her in the end.”
Cassie laughed and shook her head. “Yes, you did.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”
He stood, his ingrained manners impossible to unlearn.
“Goodbye, Melinda. Renee.”
They were laughing together softly, as they walked down the stairway to the front door. It clicked closed behind them, but Cassie imagined they were still laughing as they made their way along the street.
Layth’s voice was husky. “Now, we are alone.”
She smiled. “We’re always alone.”
“Yes.” He stood, stacking the plates together and carrying them into the kitchen. Cassie was tempted to tell him to leave them, but she was fascinated by this more domesticated version of the Heir Apparent. He rinsed the plates efficiently and stacked them in the dishwasher
“I can’t believe you’ve done that before.”
He flicked a gaze to her. “I’m the royal heir, but my parents ensured I was not too ruined by the luxury of my position to understand real life. I was raised with some understanding of these normal acts.”
“Did they make you wipe the tables in your private jet?” She pondered with a wink.
His laugh was soft. “From time to time.”
“It sounds very glamorous.”
“Yes,” he shrugged. “It is.”
“Where do you live?”
“I have a palace in the northern province, not far from the ocean.”
“A palace?” Her skin paled.
He closed the dishwasher and dried his hands on a towel. “You know my rank. Where did you suppose I reside?”
“I didn’t think about it,” she mumbled, imaging the wealth that must have been at his disposal. Her eyes drifted guiltily to the ring she wore. It was a piece of jewellery that was probably worth two years’ of her salary, and yet it was nothing to him. Small change.
“My palace is not large.”
“Oh?” She sent him a look of disbelief. “Just a demi-palace then”
He laughed. “Something like that.”
“Where do your parents live?”
“They spend most of their time at the royal residence – where I grew up.”
“The Royal Residence?”
“The seat of the ruling Emir. As Heir to the throne, my parents and I lived in the palace.”
“And this, I presume, is not a demi-palace?”
“No. My Uncle’s home boasts over eleven hundred rooms. It spans half a mile in one direction.”
Her jaw dropped in shock.
“It was begun several hundred years ago. Each Emir has added to it, and it is now both beautiful and grand.” He thought of her proclamation that she loved all things beautiful and heard himself say, “I would like very much to show it to you.”
Her eyes were distant, though they met his without flinching. “Perhaps you can show me pictures.”
“It is not so far to Takisabad.” What was he suggesting? What the hell was he attempted to encourage?
“Your wife – whomever she is to be – would not like that, I think.”
“Probably not.” His smile was grim. “And yet what honour I would put aside, for the chance to see you again. For you to see my people and my palace.”
Her eyes dropped, unable now to meet his.
“Do your parents approve of your marriage scheme?”
“Scheme? You make it sound like a nefarious plot.”
She leant against the bench, without speaking.
“In answer to your question, yes. My choice of bride was discussed with them at length. All three prospects meet with their blessing.”
Cassie swallowed. It helped, somehow, to talk about his impending engagement. “Do they have a preference?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Arja.”
“Oh. I like the idea of Sina.”
“Why?”
“Why do they like Arja best?” She asked instead.
“She’s the most prepared for what’s ahead. Her parents are diplomats of royal birth. And they’ve met her. She’s respectful and intelligent.”
Cassie spun away from him. Respectful and intelligent. Oh, to be damned with such faint praise.
“When do you meet with the third?”
“Alisan, she is called.”
“Alisan, Sina, Arja. All such beautiful names.” And how she hated them!
He put his hands on her shoulders and massaged her gently. The wistful tone of regret had not escaped him. “We should not discuss this.”
“When do you meet with her?” Cassie pushed, her heart aching.
“Next week, early.”
Cassie bit down on her lip. It was too hard to think about. Far too hard to process. She spun in his arms, with no idea of how bleak her expression was. “Layth?”
His dark eyes scanned her face thoughtfully. “Yes?” He asked, after what felt like an age.
“Make love to me in my bed.”
It was the first time she’d called it that. Usually it was ‘sex’. But now? She had to admit that her feelings
were more involved than she wanted. He followed her into her bedroom, paying brief attention to the décor before focussing everything he was on Cassie.
Layth kissed her gently, but inside, he was a melting pot of frustration and annoyance. Both he and Cassie had acknowledged their limitations when they’d entered into this relationship. Layth had known he could offer her nothing more than a brief liaison. And yet he wanted more.
He wanted, at least, the opportunity to let whatever this was run its proper course.
He undressed her slowly, without lifting his mouth from hers. And while he was gentle with her, his mood was dark. He pressed her backwards onto her bed, trying not to focus on the blackness of his emotions.
His fingers crept along her arms, teasing her flesh as he went. Cassie kissed him with ferocious intensity, and Layth groaned, then gripped her wrists in one hand. He pressed them hard against the bed, and then used his other hand to part her thighs.
His possession of her was swift and powerful.
He took her to claim her. With his body he professed what he could never say. She was his and would be long beyond his marriage to whichever bride he chose. He moved within her as though the gravitational force of the earth was at his back. And all the while his hand kept her arms pinned above her head, holding her prisoner to the moment of passion.
Layth was lost in the thundercloud of his need, but Cassie was not.
She froze beneath him, and when he looked at her face, she was still.
“Let me go,” she said in a voice that was strangled. “Let me go, let me go, let me go.” With each incantation she became more and more desperate, until finally her hands were pushing at his chest. “Let me go. Get off me. Get off me.”
He could not have been more shocked if she’d sprouted wings and flown away. He pulled off her immediately, his desire extinguished by whatever had made her break out in an all-over body sweat.
“Cassie?”
She sat up and rubbed her wrists. They were bright pink. He’d held her far more tightly than he’d intended. But not enough to truly hurt her. The colour was already fading.
Her skin was, otherwise, pale. Pale as paper. He stared at her long and hard, wondering what had happened to evince this response.
She was miles away; decades from him, and haunted.
Clare Connelly Pairs: Warming the Sheikh’s Bed & Love in the Fast Lane Page 11
