Shamed in the Sands Read online

  So what was going on beneath the surface of that cold and enigmatic face? Leila gave a sigh. She didn’t know. You could show a man love, but love only went so far. Love couldn’t penetrate brick walls if people were determined to erect them around their hearts. Love could only help heal a person if that person would allow themselves to be healed.

  Gabe made her feel as if she’d wrested every secret from him and that he found any more attempts at soul-searching a bore. Maybe she just had to accept that this was as good as it got. That the real intimacy she longed for simply wasn’t going to happen.

  But that didn’t mean she was going to stop loving him.

  She turned away from the thundery skyline to where he was lying sprawled out on the leather sofa, and her heart gave a little twist.

  She could never stop loving him.

  ‘Gabe?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘I was wondering if we could give a party?’

  He looked up and frowned. ‘What kind of party?’

  ‘Oh, you know—something revolutionary. Invite some people along, give them food and drink, maybe play a little music. That sort of thing.’

  ‘Very funny.’ Stretching his arms above his head, he gave a lazy yawn. ‘What exactly did you have in mind?’

  She drew in a deep breath. ‘Well, we’ve never really had a wedding party, have we? I mean, we had that lunch with Sara and Suleiman, but that was all. And I’ve become quite friendly with Alice and a few of the others from work, so I’d quite like to invite them. And then there’s my brother. I’d quite like to see him.’ She wriggled her shoulders. ‘I’d just like a bit of a celebration before the baby comes. Some kind of acknowledgement that the wedding actually happened.’

  He didn’t answer straight away.

  ‘As long as it’s not here,’ he said eventually. ‘But if you want to hire a hotel or a restaurant, then that’s fine by me.’

  ‘Oh, Gabe,’ she said, and walked back across the room to hug him and when she stopped hugging him she could see that he was actually smiling.

  Leila threw herself into a frenzy of organisation. She booked the award-winning wedding room at the Granchester Hotel and hired a party planner who came highly recommended by Alice.

  The party’s colour scheme of gold and indigo was chosen to reflect the colours of the Qurhahian flag and the cuisine was intended to offer delicacies from both cultures. A group of barber-shop singers had been booked for a cabaret spot at ten and dozens of fragrant crimson roses were on order.

  Responses soon came flooding in. Everyone at Zeitgeist who’d been invited said yes. Sara and Suleiman were going to be there and also Sara’s brother. Even Murat accepted his invitation, much to Leila’s pleasure and surprise. It seemed that everybody wanted to attend the wedding celebration of a desert princess and a man known for never giving parties. Leila bought a new dress for the occasion—a gorgeous shimmery thing with threads of silver running through a grey silky material, which reminded her of the mercurial hue of Gabe’s eyes.

  She took off the day before the party but Gabe was tied up with wall-to-wall meetings all morning.

  He was frowning as he kissed her goodbye. ‘I’ll meet you for lunch,’ he said. ‘And for goodness’ sake—calm down, Leila. You’re wearing yourself out with this damned party.’

  Something in his tone had made her tilt her head back to look at him. ‘You do want this party, don’t you?’

  For a moment there was silence and his smile was faintly rueful as he shook his head. ‘I never said I wanted it, did I? I agreed to it because it makes you happy.’

  She stared at the door as it closed behind him.

  Wanting to make her happy was a step forward, she guessed—even if it made her feel a bit like a child who needed to be placated with a new toy. Like a spoilt little princess who’d stamped her foot and demanded a party. The same spoilt princess who had finally remembered to throw away her apple cores and to remember that there wasn’t a squad of servants poised to tidy up after her.

  In an effort to subdue her sudden feeling of restlessness, she decided to try a little displacement therapy. Walking over to the concealed wardrobe, she pulled out her new skyscraper grey heels, which were jostling for room with the rest of her shoes. She really was going to have to ask Gabe to give her more cupboard space, since she had far more clothes than he did. Or maybe she should just do the sensible thing and acquire some for herself.

  She practised walking around the bedroom in her new shoes and decided that they didn’t hurt a bit. Then she jigged around a little and decided they would be fine to dance in. And in spite of all her reservations, she felt a soaring sense of excitement to think that she might get to dance with her husband for the first time ever.

  Pulling open one of the wardrobe doors which Gabe rarely used, she was relieved to find it almost empty. She could shift some of her clothes in here. She took off her shoes and bent down to place them neatly on the rack at the bottom, when she noticed the corner of a drawer protruding, spoiling the otherwise perfect symmetry of the wardrobe’s sleek interior.

  She wondered what drew her eyes to the manila colour of an envelope inside, but it was enough to make her hesitate. Was that why she didn’t immediately push the drawer shut, but slowly open it as curiosity got the better of her?

  She didn’t know why her heart was beating so fast, only that it was. And she didn’t know why her husband should have wedged an envelope in some random drawer when he kept all his paperwork in the bureau in his study next door. Fingers trembling, she flipped open the top of the envelope because she could see that inside there were photos. Photos of a man. A stranger, yet...

  Her heart missed a beat as she pulled out another photo. This time there were two men and one she recognised instantly because it was Gabe. But of course she recognised the other man too, because his features were unmistakeable.

  High, slashed cheekbones. Piercing pewter eyes and dark golden hair. She swallowed. Two men standing outside what looked like a Parisian café. One of them her husband and the other very obviously his father.

  But Gabe had never met his father! He’d told her that. She remembered the way his mouth had tightened and the bitter look which had darkened his eyes as he’d said it.

  The envelope slipping from her fingers, Leila slid to her knees. He had met his father. There was photographic evidence of it right in front of her eyes. He had told her that this marriage would be based on truth, but it seemed that it was based on nothing but a tissue of lies.

  Lies.

  She felt the acrid taste of bile rising up in her throat and in that moment she felt utter defeat, wondering how she could have been so blind. So stupid. They didn’t have love, no matter how much she wanted it—and now it seemed that they didn’t even have trust either.

  But she had ignored all the signs. She had blithely done what women were so good at doing. She had refused to listen to all the things he’d told her, because it hadn’t suited her to listen. He’d told her that he didn’t do love but she had thought—arrogantly, it seemed now—that she might just be able to change his mind.

  And in that showy-off way, she had decided to throw a party which he clearly had no appetite for—he’d even told her that, too. She was planning to dress up in her new, shimmery party frock and her slightly too-high grey shoes and to explode into the flower-decked wedding room of the Granchester and make as if it were all okay. As if she were just like every other bride—happy and contented and expecting a baby. But she wasn’t, was she?

  Maybe she could have been that bride. Maybe she could have settled for sex and affection and companionship, without the magic ingredient of love. She knew that plenty of people were happy enough with that kind of arrangement. But not lies. Because lies were addictive, weren’t they? You told one and you might as well tell a million.

  T
he walls felt as if they were closing in on her, even though they were made of glass. But claustrophobia was all in the mind, wasn’t it? Just like trust.

  She scrabbled around and found a sweater and pulled it on, because suddenly she was shivering. Shivering as if she’d caught a violent bout of flu. She grabbed her handbag and took the elevator downstairs and the porter she’d seen on her wedding day was there.

  She rarely saw him these days, because usually she was rushing past with Gabe, or because they took the elevator straight down to the underground car park. It was as much as she could do to flash him a smile, but something on her face must have alarmed him for he rose to his feet, a look of concern on his face.

  ‘Everything all right, Mrs Steel?’

  The unfamiliar use of her married name startled her but, with an effort, Leila pinned a smile to her face. ‘I’m fine. I just want some fresh air.’

  ‘Are you sure? Looks like rain,’ he said doubtfully.

  Yes. And it felt like rain, too. Inside her heart, it felt as if the storm had already broken.

  She started walking; she didn’t know where. Somewhere. Anywhere. She didn’t really pay attention to the route she was taking. She wasn’t used to the streets of London, but she didn’t care. A reckless gloom came over her. Maybe it was best that she got used to these streets now, so that when she was living on her own she would have a better idea of the geography of the city.

  The rain began to fall. Slowly at first and then harder and more relentlessly, but Leila barely felt it, even though after a few minutes she was soaked right through. During the gaps between the loud thunderclaps above her, she could hear her phone vibrating in her handbag, but she ignored it.

  She walked and walked until the riverbank became unfamiliar and the houses and shops less glitzy and much closer together. She saw people with angry dogs straining at their leashes. She saw youths huddled in shop doorways sheltering from the rain, dragging cigarette smoke deep into their lungs.

  She didn’t know how long she’d been walking when she found a café. Her wet hair hung in stringy rat’s tails as she sat dripping in a steamy corner and ordered a mug of strong tea. Her phone began to ring and, uninterestedly, she pulled it out. She saw that it was Alice and that she had four missed calls—three of them from Gabe.

  She pressed the answer button. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Leila, is that you?’ Alice sounded frantic.

  ‘Yep. It’s me.’

  ‘Are you okay? Gabe’s been going out of his mind with worry. He says he hasn’t been able to get hold of you.’

  Leila stared at the steam which rose from her mug like smoke from a bonfire. ‘I’m fine,’ she said tiredly. ‘I just needed some fresh air.’

  ‘Leila.’ Alice’s voice now dipped to soft and cautious. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It does. You sound...strange. Let me send a car for you.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then at least tell me where you are,’ pleaded Alice. ‘Just to put my mind at rest.’

  Wearily, Leila looked down at the laminated menu and gave the name of the café. She would leave before Alice had a chance to send anyone, which was clearly what she had in mind. But her feet were aching and she was cold. Like, really cold. As if somebody had taken her bones and turned them into ice. So she just sat there as the minutes ticked away and the chatter of the other customers seemed to be taking place in a parallel universe.

  She felt hungry, too. Hungry in a way which was unfamiliar to her and she knew that this was the baby speaking to her. Finding herself unable to ignore the unfamiliar cravings of her body, she ordered a white bread sandwich stuffed with thick slices of cheese and smothered in a sharp and pungent brown chutney.

  She fell on it with an instinctive greed which seemed beyond her control and that was how Gabe found her. He walked into the humble café, his face sombre and his dark golden hair so wet that it looked almost black. Raindrops were running down over the high slash of his cheekbones and for one crazy moment it looked almost as if he were crying.

  But Gabe didn’t do tears, she reminded herself. Gabe didn’t do emotions because he didn’t feel. Gabe’s hurt and pain had made him immune from the stuff which afflicted normal human hearts, like hers.

  He walked straight over to her and leant over the table. Holding on to the back of a chair, he seemed to be having difficulty controlling his breathing and it was a moment before he could ice out his incredulous question.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Leila?’

  ‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m eating a cheese and pickle sandwich.’ She finished chewing a mouthful which now tasted like sawdust and stared at him. ‘Anyway, I thought you were in meetings.’

  ‘I cancelled them when I didn’t hear from you. I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.’

  ‘So Alice said.’

  ‘So Alice said,’ he repeated, and then his eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you care?’

  At this, she put the rest of the sandwich down on the plate but her hands were still trembling as she met the accusation in his eyes.

  ‘Don’t I care?’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I did. I cared very much. But I realise now how incredibly stupid I’ve been. I mean, how could I possibly think that ours was a marriage worth saving? You told me that our relationship was to be based on truth and you lied. A loveless marriage I could just about live with, but not lies, Gabe. Not lies.’

  And with that, she pushed back her chair and ran out of the café.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE COOL RAIN hit Leila’s face as she met the fresh air, but Gabe was hot on her heels. She ran straight past the chauffeur-driven car which was obviously his, but he caught up with her before she’d reached the end of the street.

  His hands on her elbows, he hauled her round to face him and held on to her tightly, even though she tried to struggle out of his grip.

  ‘You can’t run away,’ he said grimly.

  ‘I can do anything I like. And I want to be as far away from you as possible. So go away and leave me alone.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere without you and I’m not having this discussion in the middle of the street in the pouring rain.’

  ‘Terrified it will ruin your ice-cool image?’ she mocked.

  ‘Terrified that you’ll catch a cold—especially in your present condition,’ he said. ‘You’re pregnant, Leila. Remember?’

  ‘Oh!’ She gave a howl of frustrated rage as she struggled again. ‘As if I could ever forget!’

  But he was levering her gently towards the waiting car, and the chauffeur had leapt out to open the door. Gabe was easing her onto the back seat and Leila was appalled at how relieved she felt as warmth and luxury wrapped themselves round her body like a soft and comforting mantle.

  That’s just the external stuff, she reminded herself bitterly. Money just makes things more comfortable. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make the hurt and betrayal go away.

  She turned to face him as he slid onto the seat beside her. ‘I’m not going back to your apartment!’

  ‘We don’t have to do that,’ he said evenly. ‘Where would you like to go instead?’

  And wasn’t that the saddest thing of all—that she couldn’t think of anywhere? The place she most wanted to be was in his heart, and there was no place for her there.

  ‘I don’t care,’ she said.

  ‘Then let’s just drive around for a while, shall we? And you can tell me what’s wrong.’

  ‘What’s wrong? What’s wrong?’ She hated the way he was talking to her as if she were aged a hundred and had forgotten where she lived. It was as much as she could do not to bang her fists frustratedly against his chest. And sudden all her hurt and pain and disappointment came bubbling o
ut. ‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong! You told me that our marriage was to be based on truth. You told me you couldn’t promise me love, but you could promise me that. And I believed you.’ Tears sprang from her eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks. ‘I believed you even though I wanted the impossible from you. I wanted your love, but I was prepared to settle for the truth.’

  ‘Leila—’

  ‘And then this morning.’ Angrily, she shook away the hand which he’d placed on her arm. ‘This morning I found some photos stuffed away in a drawer in the wardrobe.’

  He went very still. ‘So you’ve been spying on me, have you?’

  ‘Don’t you dare try to turn this on me! I was actually looking for a bigger home for my shoe collection—but that’s not the point! The point is that I found photos of you with a man who was clearly your father. A man you told me you’d never met. You lied to me, Gabe. You lied to me.’

  There was silence in the car, punctuated only by the muffled sound of her sobs and, reluctantly, she took the handkerchief he withdrew from his pocket and buried her nose in it.

  ‘Yes, I lied to you,’ he said heavily. ‘I lied to you because...’

  His voice faded away and it was so unlike Gabe to hesitate that Leila lifted her nose from the handkerchief to look at him. Her vision was blurred through her tears but she saw enough to startle her, for his eyes looked like two empty holes in a face so ravaged with emotion that for a moment he didn’t look like Gabe at all.

  ‘Because, what?’

  He shook his head and turned to her as the words began to spill from his lips, as if he’d been bottling them up for a long time. ‘What if you were a man and you met a woman who just blew you away, in a way you didn’t recognise at the time—because it had never happened to you before? Maybe you were determined not to recognise it because it was something you didn’t believe in. Something which, deep down, you feared.’