She hated him, and yet she loved him. She missed him and needed him. She went to London to start over, to get away from her past and herself, and she thought she had. Until the news broke that he’d stolen hundreds of millions of dollars of his clients’ money.
Jemma looked at Mikael. “I sometimes think that if my parents hadn’t divorced, and my father had been more involved in our lives, he would have made different choices. I think that if maybe we’d stayed close, he would have realized how much we loved him and needed him.”
Mikael’s expression was incredulous. “You blame yourself?”
“I try to understand what happened.”
“He was selfish.”
She flinched. “You’re right.”
“He was the worst sort of man because he pretended to care, pretended to understand what vulnerable people needed, and then he destroyed them.”
Jemma closed her eyes.
“Who befriends older women and then robs them?” he demanded.
Eyes closed, she shook her head.
“Your father told my mother to refinance her house and give him the money to invest, promising her amazing returns, but didn’t invest any of it. He just put it into his own account. He drained her account for himself.” Mikael’s voice vibrated with contempt and fury. “It disgusts me.” He drew a rough breath. “We should not talk about this.”
She nodded, sick, flattened.
Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.
Mikael left his chair and paced the length of the pool. Jemma’s eyes burned and she had to work very hard not to cry.
She was so ashamed. She felt raw and exposed. In the Arab world, she represented her family. She was an extension of her family, an extension of her father. Here in Saidia his shame attached to her. His shame would always taint her.
Silently Jemma left the pool, returning to the Chamber of Innocence to shower in the white marble bath, and shampoo her hair to wash the chlorine out. As she worked the suds in, she gritted her teeth, holding all the emotion in.
She wasn’t sad. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t lonely. She wasn’t miserable in any way.
No, miserable would be living in Connecticut, trying to find a place to stay, wondering who might take her in, if maybe one of her mother’s few remaining friends might allow her to crash on a couch or in a guest bedroom.
Rinsing her hair, she lifted her face to the spray. It was so hard to believe that her family had once had everything. Hard to believe they’d been placed on a pedestal. Their beautiful, lavish lifestyle had been envied and much discussed. Magazines featured their Caribbean home, their sprawling shingle house in Connecticut, the log cabin in Sun Valley. They had money for trips, money for clothes, money for dinners out.
Jemma turned the shower off, wrung the excess water from her hair wondering if any of it had been real.
Had any of it been their money to spend?
How long had her father taken advantage of his clients?
Bundled in a towel, she left the bathroom, crawled into the white and silver bed and pulled the soft Egyptian sheet all the way over her, to the top of her head.
It was hard being a Copeland. Hard living with so much shame. Work had been the only thing that kept her going, especially after Damien walked away from her. Work gave her something to do, something to think about. Working allowed her—even if briefly—to be someone else.
Now she just needed to get home and back to work. Work was still the answer. She simply had to get through these next seven days. And seven nights.
Jemma drew a big breath for courage, aware that the night would soon be here.
CHAPTER TEN
SHE WAS TO dress for dinner.
That’s what the card attached to the garment bag instructed: Dress for dinner. I will collect you at nine.
Jemma unzipped the bag, and pushed away tissue to discover a sumptuous silk gown the color of ripe peaches. Ornate gold beading wrapped the hem and the long sleeve of the asymmetrical gown. The gown gathered over one shoulder creating a full flowing sleeve, while leaving the other shoulder and arm bare.
It was beautiful. Exotic. A dress for a desert princess.
There was a jewelry box in the bottom of the garment bag containing gold chandelier earrings studded with diamonds and pearls. They looked old, and very valuable.
She lifted an earring, holding it to her ear and looked in the mirror. The delicate gold and diamond earring was stunning against her dark loose hair. She’d wear her hair down tonight, dress like a desert princess. She hoped Mikael would not be angry this evening. The morning had been fun. He’d been a great companion. For a couple hours she’d forgotten why she was here.
He arrived at her door promptly at nine. Jemma had been ready for almost an hour. Opening the door she discovered he was dressed in his traditional robe again and she felt a stab of disappointment, preferring him in Western clothes. She felt more comfortable when he looked familiar, and not like the foreign sheikh he was.