‘Spit it out.’
‘You should get off to work.’ She tried a smile on for size but he refused to buy into it.
‘Work can wait.’
‘So there will be no turning back once it hits the headlines,’ she mused, gazing past him. ‘Feels odd, I suppose. Just when I get accustomed to the thought of me and you...ofus... I now have to gear myself up for a press conference about it.’
‘Was there going to be any turning back for you?’ Abe wondered if a time would come when her doubts would be banished for ever. After she was wearing his ring? How many more times would he have to persuade her into truly believing him when he told her that they had the makings of a very successful union?
He looked at her, so slender, chewing her lip anxiously, a vision of feminine prettiness in a short-sleeved pale yellow tee shirt and a light skirt. She brought out an intensely protective urge in him. She was the mother of his child so that was perfectly understandable. Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his hair and continued to gaze at her.
‘No, but—’
‘Then where is the problem?’
‘There are still so many things to put into place.’
‘You worry too much.’
‘Of course I do! Can you blame me? It’s a big step and now it feels...’ She sighed helplessly and he reached out and threaded his fingers through hers.
‘The hotel knows.’ Abe decided that ticking her various concerns off the checklist might be the best way forward. It made him smile, which was odd because he had never had much time for moody female behaviour. In Georgie, it excited and challenged him; it was that simple. She would never bore him.
‘Yes. I spoke to my friend there and we had a long chat about everything. It was good of you to break the news.’
‘You were dithering. Your flat...that’s in the process of being sold. You said you wanted the money you got from it to be transferred to your next-door neighbour who helped you over the years with Tilly? It’ll be done.’
‘That’s a great help. I’m not sure how I would have managed it from over here.’
‘We have discussed the details about Tilly’s schooling. The arts council? They are ready and overjoyed to have your input when you feel you would like to go along...’ He paused. ‘This meet-and-greet with the press is simply a formality, Georgie. Nothing to get unduly exercised about.’
‘I suppose it’s the feeling that everything is rushing towards me and I can’t put up any stop signs, not that Iwantto...’
‘But you feel safe as long as you think your options are being kept open,’ Abe finished astutely, and she nodded. ‘And seeing it in print makes you anxious.’
She nodded again.
‘Like I said, it’ll be a formality. The toughest part you have already dealt with and that was meeting my father, members of my family, my friends. And bear in mind that it will not be marriage overnight. I will be expected to have a lavish wedding with a guest list of hundreds, hence the fact that we won’t actually tie the knot for another month or so. Trust me, by the time we exchange vows, all your anxieties will have been vanquished.’
‘How can you be so sure of everything?’ she asked, but she had relaxed and was half smiling.
‘No one can be sure of everything,’ Abe murmured, ‘but it’s fair to say that I usually am and I’m usually right.’ He stood up, held his hand out for her. The coolness of her fingers entwined with his sent a jolt of red-hot lust through him, but he gritted his teeth and fought off that now familiar craving to take her, however inconvenient the timing might have been.
‘Thank you for that reassurance, Abe,’ Georgie said drily. ‘It’s good to know that I’m with someone who is always right.’
‘Isn’t it?’ He dealt her a slashing sidelong grin that sent shivers through her. ‘Now I have to get to work so don’t tempt me.’
‘Tempt you to do what?’ Georgie smiled innocently.
‘I’ll show you tonight...’
The following morning, Georgie woke to an empty room. They had made passionate love the night before and she had obviously fallen into a deep sleep because she hadn’t heard Abe leaving the bedroom and neither had she been awakened by Tilly toddling in demanding cuddles.
She glanced at her phone, realised that it was nearly nine in the morning and, with a yelp of dismay, she leapt out of bed, flung on her dressing gown and burst into the adjoining suite to find Abe and Tilly in the process of choosing clothes for Tilly to wear.
‘I overslept!’ She tugged her dressing-gown belt tightly round her waist and gazed at the array of outfits scattered across the floor. ‘What’s all this about?’
‘Is it not a lady’s prerogative to choose what she wants to wear?’ Abe, sitting on the ground with his long legs stretched out in front of him, looked at his daughter with tender indulgence. ‘She’s been fed and watered, and Fatima is going to collect her in half an hour to take her to my father’s palace. She’s going to meet some of the children who will also be attending her school next term. We will join everyone after the reporters are through with us.’
