Carol Marinelli - Bound To The Sheikh Page 2

That meant for way too many years she had been locked alone with her thoughts, and left alone to private desires but with no one to satisfy them.

  The landing was a smooth one but instead of immediately jumping up, for a moment, Emily sat as Clinton’s voice came over the intercom.

  “Welcome to Cannes where the weather is a warm and sunny sixty-nine degrees with a slight southerly breeze. I hope that you’ve had a pleasant flight. Local time is ten twenty-seven.”

  “Emily?” Cathy prompted, a little surprised because usually Emily was the first to her feet.

  Emily quickly stood and got to work. She helped take the bibs off the babies and wipe down their hands and faces as Ravel, now pretty in pink also, checked her appearance for one final time before taking her daughter from the nanny.

  The crew said farewell to the passengers and, with them safely disembarked, now the real work started. Emily was officially rostered on till four and Ravel could, at any moment before then, decide she fancied a shopping trip to Paris or wherever and so the plane had to be ready for any eventuality.

  “Before you say no…” Cathy started but Emily halted her.

  She had, as they came into land, changed her mind.

  “I’d love to come tonight,” Emily said. “Thank you for asking me.”

  “Ooh-la-la.” Cathy beamed. “Welcome to Cannes!”

  Chapter Two

  “Qui est-ce”?

  It was being said in several languages.

  “Who is that?”

  It was a question that every woman on the beach was thinking, if not asking, as a speedboat brought a suited, exotic-looking man from his yacht to the shore.

  Every woman except Emily.

  Instead she stood, more than a touch awkward. in a floaty, lilac dress that Cathy had insisted looked fantastic. Emily wasn’t so sure. It was a halter-neck and backless and she felt a touch too voluptuous to be minus a bra. She was even wearing sexy, silver knickers for the first time in what felt like forever. Her sandals were silver, too and were already starting to rub between her toes and she was as uncomfortable as hell.

  It wasn’t the clothes though, nor the makeup, or that her long hair had been curled and pinned up that had Emily feeling awkward. For the first time in close to a decade she was without her rings and she felt as raw and vulnerable as if she were standing on the beach naked.

  Emily generally avoided the beach.

  The day after tomorrow she was flying Princess Alice to Switzerland and had decided to enjoy the mountains and maybe stay a few days.

  Now though, all she could think about was Stephen’s accident. Watching the lifeguards dash out and his limp body being dragged to shore.

  No, whoever had brought the gathering to a temporary standstill was the furthest thing from her mind.

  “I’m not sure of his name.” Drew, an actor, who for the last hour had been busy chatting up Cathy, answered the question and tried to dismiss him. “Which says it all really. I think he’s a body double.”

  “Didn’t he have a fling with Ravel a few months ago?” Cathy asked, licking her lips. “It was in all the magazines, they made out on his yacht and Gene threw her out.”

  “I’m not sure, but what I do know is that he’s been creating havoc these last few days. Women are lining up to have their hearts broken by him and so far he hasn’t disappointed. He was kicked out of the casino last night…”

  “Really?” Cathy frowned. “He looks far too suave for that?”

  “Oh, he’s bad news, I can assure you,” Drew said and Emily smothered a smile because, rather than turning Cathy off, he was instead piquing her curiosity and Emily turned to see just who it was that they were discussing.

  Oh my.

  Tall and wide-shouldered, he was dressed in a black suit and white shirt he wore with no tie. Barefoot, he was walking along the beach towards the private function and carrying his shoes. His stride was long and languorous. He was immaculate and yet at the same time disheveled. To Emily, he looked as if he could be heading home for the night rather than just starting out.

  The security guards, Emily noticed, didn’t stop him and ask for ID as they had done with her. Instead, they undid the heavy red rope and stepped back to let him in.

  He needed no invitation.

  As he drew closer, she saw that he was seriously beautiful, with jet black hair and an unshaven jaw. High cheekboned, his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses and, as he drew even closer, she saw that his mouth was full-lipped and unsmiling.

  There was a unique elegance to him she had never seen in another.

  He possibly owned the beach his stance was so assured.

  “Can he be Drew’s body double?” Cathy whispered and Emily laughed.

  “I don’t think it works like that.”

  “How about we go and get some dinner?” Drew suggested. Clearly he was used to being the sole focus of any woman’s attention and didn’t like Cathy’s gaze lingering on another man. Especially such a stunning one.

  “That sounds great,” Cathy said and Emily was just about to agree—the smell of the food was delectable but then she saw Cathy’s rather wide-eyed look. Yes, it had been an awfully long time since she had been out but it took just a moment to remember how often Cathy did this sort of thing—she had met her man for the night and now Emily’s company was no longer required.

  “You guys go ahead,” Emily said, pushing out a smile. “I’m not hungry right now.”

  She was, in fact, starving.

  “Are you sure that you won’t join us?” Drew politely checked, though with little enthusiasm.

  “No, really, I’m fine,” Emily replied and then let out a tense breath as Drew and Cathy headed off towards the marquee.

  I’m fine.

  She had used that line way too much over the years and Emily was determined not to use it anymore.

  Though she didn’t need somebody to hold her hand, given how insistent Cathy had been that she come tonight, Emily hadn’t expected to be dumped before the main act had even come on.

  She took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and had a look around. The private area was busy and it seemed that everybody who was there wanted to be recognised. Some were waving and calling out to each other while others chatted in small groups laughing far too loudly.

  There was a band playing to no one—the seats were empty. A white grand piano had been set up for Blaze who was due to come on soon. It was dusk and there was a gentle breeze in the air and, Emily realised, she was fine being alone.

  It was better this way.

  She decided to follow the sexy guy’s lead and take off her sandals as her feet were seriously starting to hurt. All too she soon realised that she should have done that before she had taken a glass of champagne. Emily knelt down and tried to undo one tiny, silver strap with one hand and balance herself and a glass with the other.

  And that was how he first saw her.

  There was something about her that drew the eye and it wasn’t that she was alone.

  Her carefully pinned hair was starting to unravel from its confines as she knelt to remove her shoe. She was curvaceous and those curves, unlike most here, were her own. Her skin was pale and as she blew out a breath and then rolled her eyes and as he saw her sweet, round face, Ashim found that he smiled.

  “Voudriez-vous du champagne, monsieur?”

  Ashim declined, he’d decided not to stay—it was a setting more suited to romance and that wasn’t what Ashim had in mind for tonight. The loose plan was to stroll to La Croisette and perhaps have a drink at one of the bars there while he watched the sun go down and then head to the casino and later a club.

  That Ashim had been thrown out last night posed no problem.

  He had been thrown out of the very best places and always he was welcomed back with open arms.

  But, instead of heading off, he watched her struggle and made his way over to where she knelt.

  “Puis-je vous aider?”

  Emily fro
ze for a second as she heard a rich, deep voice ask if he could assist.

  “Non,” Emily started to answer in French but as she glanced down to the side and saw two feet and the soft brown of his skin, she was suddenly flustered and reverted to English. “Really, I’m fi—”

  She halted, she had sworn just a moment ago not to use that phrase but she kind of needed it now. His voice was as deep and as sensual as she could have guessed it would be. Emily was quite certain that it belonged to the man who had brought the beach to a standstill just a few moments ago.

  She was actually nervous to look up, yet she did, her eyes darting past the delicious, long length of his body.

  The low sun over the mountains behind shadowed his features and allowed only the outline of wide shoulders. With his glasses on, he was like the faceless lover of her dreams and Emily felt a shiver low in her stomach.

  “English?” he checked and she gave a brief nod. “Then, can I assist?”

  “Assist?” Emily frowned and had the dizzying thought that he was about to kneel and take off her shoe but then she saw that he was holding out his hand to take her glass.

  “Thank you,” Emily said and she handed it to him.

  It had actually been easier getting the first sandal off because now, as she wrestled with the second, Emily knew that in a moment she’d stand and face him.

  She slipped off the second shoe but as Emily went to stand it was as if the sand was shifting beneath her bare feet and she toppled slightly and he took her elbow to steady her. The contact, though tiny, in this heightened state was too much for Emily. The slight touch of his hand on her bare arm had her already quickened pulse picking up speed.

  As calm and unruffled as Emily was flustered he handed her back her glass.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Much.”

  She didn’t dare to take a sip of her drink because, quite simply, Emily couldn’t remember the location of her mouth—all her attention was on his. His lips were the only soft feature in his exquisitely sculptured face. He had high cheekbones and a very straight Roman nose and, for very private reasons, she liked that the color of his eyes she could not see. Emily stood there, almost wishing she were at work.

  There she knew how to make small talk.

  At work she knew how to flash a corporate smile.

  All she felt now was awkward.

  He called to a waiter and asked him to take care of her shoes and Emily handed them over.

  “Blaze should be coming on soon,” Emily said, just for something to say.

  “Blaze?”

  “The reason everyone’s here!”

  “Oh no,” he responded with a rueful shake of his head. “People are just here to be seen.” He looked at the milling crowd, all talking loudly, all trying to be heard over the others, or waving madly to someone who didn’t want to give them their attention.

  Ashim was actually bored with it.

  Maybe his father was right; perhaps he was ready for home.

  “I’m Emily,” she offered.

  “Ashim.”

  “You’re a body double,” she checked, “an actor?”

  He hesitated for a moment before answering. “We’re all actors.”

  “I’m actually here with my friend.” It was suddenly important to Emily that he knew she wasn’t here alone, and it had nothing to do with being scared of him, more she was scared what she might be about to do. There was an energy between them, she couldn’t see it of course, but she could feel it down to the marrow of her bones. “She’s just gone to get some dinner…”

  “You weren’t hungry?”

  “I’m starving but I didn’t want to play third wheel.” She saw him frown and guessed that, even with excellent English, he might not understand the saying. “She met someone.” Emily rolled her eyes as she had when taking off her sandals and Ashim found that he smiled. “We’re colleagues.”

  “I don’t care about her.” His voice was a touch harsh as he dismissed Cathy from the conversation. Emily was suddenly very conscious of her new knickers, or rather the warmth within them.

  “I’m a flight attendant,” Emily said. Discretion was key in her job and so she didn’t tell him who she’d flown in with, just that she’d arrived in Cannes this morning. “I used to fly first class but—”

  “I don’t need your résumé.”

  He was curt, he was dismissive yet he did the opposite of offend—he was, Emily knew, the reason that she had stayed locked in hotel rooms on her trips away.

  His name was Temptation.

  A temporary pass from her life.

  A need to know only basis.

  With that one line she knew he offered sex with no strings, just as Gene had tried to do when she refused to meet his gaze.

  No it did not offend. Instead, despite the warm air, she felt goose bumps prickle her arms as he spoke on.

  “Do you need mine?” Ashim asked.

  Emily said nothing.

  “Do you want to get dinner?”

  “What on earth would we talk about?” Emily responded with a sarcastic edge, but it did not deter him, in fact she watched that beautiful mouth move into a slow smile.

  “I’m sure we’d think of something.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “I thought you were hungry…” Ashim wasn’t used to being said no to.

  He gauged carefully and he chose wisely and now he had chosen her.

  Emily wasn’t hungry anymore, the knot in her stomach had nothing to do with a lack of food, the knot was actually far lower than that.

  “I really want to hear the music.” She denied how she felt; she resisted impulse and gave him a smile and a half wave. “It was nice talking to you.”

  Ashim nodded as she left.

  He had been very sure.

  So sure in fact that he half expected her to turn around, to change her mind but no, she turned to leave.

  It was Ashim who called her back. “What time did your plane get in?”

  Emily frowned at the odd question.

  “Your plane?” Ashim said. “What time did you land?”

  “Ten twenty-seven,” Emily answered. “Why?”

  “You’re the reason that I’m here.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I saw your plane come in,” Ashim said. He had been taught not to believe in coincidences and the reason he had chosen to stay was clear to him now. “We were about to set sail and I changed my mind and decided to stay one more day. Now I know the reason why.”

  Emily laughed at his rather smooth chat up line. “Oh, you’re good,” Emily said.

  And then she walked off.

  Chapter Three

  The warm-up act had finished as Emily took a seat.

  Ashim was right, Emily thought as she looked around—no one was here for the music, most of the seats were still empty and there was just a trickle of applause as Blaze came on.

  Her name matched the sky, which was now firing pink, rusty orange, and reds as the sun started to drop behind the mountains.

  Emily was actually glad to be alone.

  To be sitting here, alone, as Blaze took to the piano and it was hard to believe she was here.

  Not in France.

  Just here at the end of a painful journey and preparing to finally move on.

  Emily had survived by not crying, yet tears filled her eyes as Blaze opened with Emily’s favorite song.

  “How Am I”

  Emily had danced in her lounge with wine to this song so very many times, missing her husband while not wanting to go to bed and lie by his shell.

  Now though, she listened to the song’s message and she answered it.

  Scared.

  Scared of getting back out there and dating again.

  Terrified that all the baggage she carried would forever weigh her ever down.

  She’d lost herself, Emily knew that she had, but she didn’t even know where to start looking to find herself again.

  She had
just run like a scalded cat from the sexiest man she had ever seen…

  She’d been running from him for years.

  That shiver was back low in her stomach as she remembered looking up to him, his features blocked out by the sun behind.

  She thought back to guilty moments alone in a hotel room. Guilty because her husband had no longer been the focus of her desire and she would imagine a man, a nameless, faceless one, taking her.

  What sort of a wife had she been?

  Emily sat there pondering Ashim’s words.

  Was she the best actress in the world?

  Had the caring, smiling, loving wife all been an act?

  It almost killed her that it had.

  Sometimes she had felt like running away.

  And at other times she had felt like surrendering, returning the glance that was given by men on occasion, and consenting.

  The offer had been made by Ashim and was still there.

  Emily knew that he was still here and that his eyes were upon her—the burn on her bare shoulders told her that.

  Oh, it had been a smooth chat up line, but it had rattled her. After all, it had been as she had looked down at the yachts below that she had changed her mind and decided to come tonight.

  Emily resisted the urge to turn around.

  If she did it would be to him.

  Oh, but she wanted it to be.

  How though?

  She was shy.

  We’re all actors.

  She remembered his words again but with a different take on them now.

  Maybe she could simply choose to be bold.

  Fake it till you make it, sort of thing.

  She turned and it was pure longing that guided her to him. She somehow walked the steps that separated them for she would rather have run.

  “About dinner…” Emily croaked.

  “Dance?” Ashim said instead and changed his offer.

  Dinner she could almost deal with but to dance?

  She could see her reflection in his dark glasses; she could actually see her own hesitation.

  And then she remembered she was acting.

  As bold as she pretended to be she reached up and took of his glasses.

  He didn’t flinch, he didn’t stop her, and though it was too dark to note their color, she could see dark pools of danger and a glint of untamed passion that she had guiltily fantasized about during lonely times alone.