Lucy and the Sheikh(31)
After he’d tied up the boat in the shed he reached for her hand and she gazed down at his rich brown skin, so beautiful, so seductive, but she couldn’t allow herself to do what she so wanted to do, to curl her fingers around his hands and feel his grip tight around her hand.
“What’s wrong Lucy?” His brow lowered, the frown line deepening.
She opened her mouth to speak but for once her mind was too full of conflicting thoughts to give voice to a single one. She shook her head and turned away.
“Regret getting carried away last night? Or is it something to do with the person you’re looking for. I was waiting for you to mention it again. Obviously you regretted having done so. So many regrets…” His voice had become hard.
She nodded once. He turned away, but not before she caught sight of an expression that held both disappointment and anger.
“I would never have taken you away if I thought you harbored any doubts.”
“I didn’t then. You know that. It’s just…hard to explain.”
“Try.”
His cell phone beeped. He swore. “We have to get back. Do you wish to leave Sitra?”
She shook her head vehemently, appalled at the thought that she could leave Sitra before she’d found Maia. “No, not at all.”
“Do you wish to see me again?”
She bit her lip, to stop them from trembling. “Yes.” She had to. He was still her only lead.
“You sure?”
“Yes. Look, I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling myself this morning.”
He stepped away, his face remaining impassive as if he didn’t believe her. “I have a few urgent meetings this morning I must attend but I’ll see you later. Is there anything you need while I’m working?” The remote politeness of his enquiry made Lucy wince. But there were more important things she needed than his intimacy.
“Internet access. Can you arrange it for me?”
“Come to my office and see my assistant. He’ll give you access to a computer.”
They strode quickly up the steps and through the luxuriant gardens, dripping with soft morning dew. The gardeners were out in force, trimming and watering, aware the King and his girlfriend were passing by, but obviously too discreet to stare. At the gardens where they were to go their separate ways, he turned to her.
“Talk to me later. Something has happened I don’t understand. And I want to, Lucy. Whatever direction your mind is taking you, know this. Last night was special to me. If our time together is short, that’s not of my doing. I want you.” He pursed his lips together as if wanting to speak further but instead, turned away and left abruptly, without a backward glance.
Once inside her suite of rooms, she leaned back against the door, suddenly exhausted, closed her eyes and groped for the bookmark that was hidden in her pocket, her fingers worrying the soft edges of the kiwi.
Maia…where are you?”
Lucy’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as she glanced furtively around the office. Two assistants were working on papers in a corner while a couple of senior advisers were having a meeting in an outer office. There was a hum of printers, keyboard clattering and the distant sound of a phone on loudspeaker. No one was paying her any attention, presumably used to strangers needing their internet fix.
She logged into her Facebook account and scanned its contents for anything from Maia. There she was. She clicked on it and read. She slammed the heel of her hand onto the desk in frustration and quickly scanned the office to see if anyone had noticed. Everyone was still absorbed in his or her own business. She continued to read.
More myths Maia believed would satisfy Lucy. She wrote of parties, of people she was seeing. She wrote of rain; she wrote of Paris. None of it was true. Maia hadn’t been seen in Paris for months. Lucy had been there before she’d joined the boat with Alex. Lucy realized if her own investigations failed she’d have to take the next step and try again to get the police involved. She’d spoken to them in Paris but they’d pointed to her Facebook pages as proof that Maia was OK. They’d also pointed out that Maia rarely stayed in one country for more than a few weeks at a time. She could be anywhere.
She shook her head at the lies posted on Maia’s Facebook wall. She sent another reply. “Maia, where the hell are you, really?”
She raked her fingers into her hair with frustration as she stared at the laptop. They’d both sworn to each other that they’d live life to the full. Maia had been dead set against a mundane life of husband and children. It hadn’t worked for their mother, she’d argued, so why risk it? And, Lucy? Lucy had other reasons not to want to tie herself into a relationship: reasons that she never held up to the light to scrutinize, reasons best left forgotten—that way they couldn’t hurt her.