LITMIR.BIZ

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       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      GABI WAS RELUCTANT to enter.

      But for reasons of her own: she was scared she might like it.

      Alim stood aside and Gabi stepped into relative silence.

      She put down the shoes she carried in her hand, along with the small overnight bag, and felt him walk up behind her.

      Her bare feet were caressed by soft rugs; oil lamps gave off a gentle glow that danced along the walls, though bore testimony to the fierce winds outside.

      It was a haven indeed.

      And she fought to keep her guard raised.

      The peregrine note she had first breathed in when they’d danced was more prominent for Gabi now; it hung in the air and enveloped her from all around. It was hard to be scared with Alim so close by her side.

      Gabi was angry, though.

      ‘There is no one else here,’ Alim informed her as he watched her walk through to the main living area.

      She looked up at the high ceiling and felt terribly small. ‘So there’s no point screaming.’

      Alim merely sighed. ‘Gabi, you really are far too dramatic. What I meant when I said that we are alone is that there is no one here to disturb us and no one to overhear us when we are talking.’

      He wanted to make it very clear to Gabi that whatever was said was just between them.

      For now.

      A baby certainly would change things—Violetta would have even more work cut out for her but at the very least he hoped by the end of this trip Gabi would leave knowing that both she and the baby would be taken care of.

      Since he had found out that Gabi had been on maternity leave, Alim had been trying to find out what he could and using his best contacts to garner information.

      It had proven surprisingly difficult.

      Gabi did not work for the Grande Lucia; however, he had found out that indeed she had been on maternity leave. There was some recent CCTV footage of Gabi in the foyer of the Grande Lucia, speaking with a woman who handed Gabi a baby.

      Alim had watched the grainy footage and had found himself holding his breath and zooming in on the image, desperate for a better glimpse of his child.

      His child!

      A fierce surge of protectiveness had hit him and his plans to bring Gabi to the desert had increased in their urgency.

      He still did not know whether it was a boy or a girl.

      And, from her silence, Alim was starting to realise that Gabi was in no rush to enlighten him with the news.

      ‘I think,’ Alim said, ‘there is rather a lot to discuss, don’t you?’ But Gabi shook her head when he offered an opening for her to tell him.

      ‘I have nothing to say to you.’

      He was about to state that that was certainly not the case, but for now Alim chose to bide his time.

      She was shocked, he accepted that, and angry too, so he offered her the chance to regroup.

      ‘Why don’t you go and get changed?’ Alim suggested, and gestured to a curtained area.

      ‘Changed?’

      ‘Have a bath and get changed and then we can speak.’

      ‘Alim, I’m stranded in the desert against my will and you expect me to go and slip into something more comfortable.’

      ‘I don’t like that suit.’ Alim shrugged. ‘And from memory neither do you.’

      She just stood there.

      The truth was, Gabi didn’t really have anything more comfortable to put on.

      Well, some pyjamas and another awful black suit and a small tube skirt and top.

      Her packing really had been done in haste.

      ‘My suits are all I’ve really got with me,’ she admitted.

      ‘I’m sure there will be alternatives in there.’

      Again he gestured to the curtained area but still she did not move.

      ‘Gabi, you are not stranded. If you want me to arrange the helicopter I shall do so, you just have to say the word.’

      Gabi didn’t, though.

      She turned and walked to the area that Alim had gestured to and pulled aside heavy drapes.

      It was like stepping inside a giant jewellery box.

      The walls were lined with thick red velvet, which she ran her hand over, and jewelled lights dotted the ceiling.

      It was a trove of exotic treasures with a huge, beautifully dressed bed in the centre.

      She walked over and upon it lay a dark robe. It was too dark to make out the colour but the fabric when she held it was as soft as the velvet walls.

      There was more—a dressing table adorned with stoppered bottles. Gabi picked up one and inhaled the musky fragrance then caught sight of herself in a large gilded mirror.

      She looked terrible. Her hair was wild and filled with sand and the mascara she had put on in the bathroom of the plane was halfway down her cheeks.

      Gabi looked over to a screened area and curiosity beckoned her to investigate.

      The lighting was subtle and it was even darker behind the screen, but she could see a deep bath and it had been filled most of the way. Gabi put in her hand, assuming that the water would be cold.

      Yet it was not.

      Her fingers lingered, feeling the oily warmth for a moment, and she simply didn’t understand so she walked back out to Alim.

      He was lying on some cushions, propped up on one elbow and completely unfazed by her rather angry approach.

      ‘You said that there was no one else here.’

      ‘There isn’t.’

      ‘So who filled my bath?’

      He looked over to where she stood and smiled at the suspicion in her eyes and then the slight startle in them when he gave his response.

      ‘Me.’

      ‘You?’

      ‘The water comes directly from hot desert springs and I added some oils that are supposed to aid in relaxation.’

      A slight shiver went through her, albeit a pleasurable one, as she thought of Alim here alone and readying the place for her arrival. But Gabi was in no mood to relax.

      She wanted her wits about her, and knew that she needed to keep every one of them firing in his presence.

      ‘Did you select the robe?’ Gabi asked with a slight edge to her voice.

      ‘No,’ Alim responded. ‘That would be Violetta.’

      ‘So she lays out the clothes for your tarts?’

      ‘Violetta has worked hard to ensure we are both comfortable and alone. We shall dine when you are ready to.’

      ‘I ate on the plane.’

      ‘Then there’s no rush. Take your time.’

      Gabi hadn’t heard those words in a very long time; there simply weren’t enough minutes in any day to get all she wanted to done.

      Taking her time to get changed for dinner sounded like a reward on its own.

      She wanted, for argument’s sake, to say something scathing, but there was nothing that came to mind. Gabi wanted to point out that she was here against her wishes.

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