But he didn’t say that. In fact he didn’t saying or do anything but study her, and she felt herself begin to tremor, felt her inner self wanting to reach out for him with a desperation that made her want to cry. Simple eye contact and she was falling into that terrible pit. Her senses came alive, slinking terrible temptations down her quivering spine.
Then the heavy eyelids lowered even further. He began to straighten and her senses went haywire. If he starts walking, I start running, she told herself agitatedly. I don’t want him to touch me—I don’t! But what he did was unfold his arms and drop them to his sides before offering her one of those cold, curt formal bows he could demonstrate with such devastating effect.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘My apologies. Forgive my crass instincts,’ he begged.
There was nothing crass about his instincts. Nothing crass about the way he could turn himself into this coldly polite, lofty giant of a stranger who contrarily made her want to be very gentle with him.
Her stomach muscles quivered; her heart began to ache. ‘Rafiq…’
He turned away from the husky little murmur of his name, and picked up the papers she had just signed for him. ‘I will be leaving early in the morning and will not be returning here tomorrow night. Robert knows this, but please reassure him that I will ring before his bedtime.’
All of a sudden she didn’t know if she was standing on her head or her heels. Her emotions were flipping over from one thing to another; now she was experiencing stark fear.
‘Y-you mean you’re not coming back at all?’ she managed to stammer.
He sent her a glance, a fleeting glance. ‘A car will collect you on Friday morning. Please attempt not to be late.’
A car. Friday. Don’t be late. She almost sank to her knees in relief. Which said it all really, didn’t it? she accepted bleakly. I’m hooked. I can’t bear the thought of living without him.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Goodnight,’ she said, and got herself out of there before her knees actually did give out.
Rafiq sat in the back of his chauffeur-driven car and stared out of the window at yet another cold, wet day in London. Beside him his aide, Kadir Al-Kadir, sat quietly. He was in shock, but then who would not be to find himself hauled out of his bed at six in the morning by a man who was not happy that his plans were already beginning to fall apart?
Hassan had not made it to London. Something had come up involving important matters of state. If he had not been so stubborn and had told Hassan exactly why he wanted him here then his half-brother would have left no stone unturned in his quest to be at his side on this day. But that had not been the way he wanted to play it. Hassan had met Melanie eight years ago, during the weekend they’d spent on the Maitland estate. He knew the history of their relationship and had no kind thoughts for Melanie. Given enough time and the opportunity, he would have tried to stop the marriage today.
But he had still wanted his brother at his side on this important day for him, so he had planned Hassan’s arrival to give him neither time nor space to voice his objections. As the old ones liked to say about meticulous planning, it simply begged to fall apart on you, he mused heavily.
He glanced at his watch. Thirty minutes to go. Melanie should be leaving home with their son and her cynical friend about now. ‘Check what is happening with the other car,’ he instructed Kadir.
The younger man located his mobile telephone. A few murmured questions later and he was putting it away again. ‘The car is still awaiting its passengers, sir,’ he informed him.
Rafiq nodded, slid a long finger across the tense line of his mouth and wished he hadn’t asked the question. He would not do so again, he determined. Which meant he now had to endure a very tense half-hour.
‘Ready?’ Sophia asked.
No, Melanie thought. ‘Yes,’ she answered quietly.
‘You look so pretty, Mummy,’ Robbie told her. ‘Doesn’t she look pretty, Aunt Sophia?’
‘Stunning,’ Sophia agreed with a touch of dry cynicism. ‘Now all she needs to do is smile to show she’s happy about this.’
‘Of course she’s happy.’ Robbie was jumping up and down with excitement. ‘She’s getting married to my daddy today.’
‘Go and check if the car is still there, Robbie,’ Sophia instructed. ‘The innocence of youth.’ She sighed as Robbie bounced out of the room and went clattering down the stairs. ‘One good look at your face and he would know you are about to fall into a maidenly swoon.’
‘Don’t be so Gothic,’ Melanie said. ‘I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep much last night.’
‘Missed your man?’
Missed him dreadfully, she thought hollowly. Which only made the ache she was carrying around inside worse.
A telephone began ringing downstairs. ‘I’ll get it!’ Robbie shouted.
‘The big man is checking up on you,’ Sophia wagered. ‘He can’t be certain that you are going to turn up.’
‘Yes, he can. He only has to think about his son to know that I am going to be there—You look fantastic,’ she put in when Sophia opened her mouth to say something Melanie knew she did not want to hear.
Her friend was wearing a dark purple suit that followed her hourglass figure to perfection. With her exotically dark colouring she made Melanie feel washed out and ordinary in her misty-blue outfit with its short straight skirt and nipped-in jacket edged with soft blue fake fur at the round neck and cuffs.