The food was amazing and, sandwiched between the chair of the arts council and a distant relative of Abe’s, she felt that it was a successful evening.
But how much had she seen of Abe?
Virtually nothing at all. He had briefly chatted to her when she’d arrived and then he had promptly left her to her own devices for the remainder of the evening and when, eventually, shehadseen him because he had been sitting close to her at the dinner table, he had shot her a reassuring smile, raised his eyebrows in a silent question, asking her if all was going well, and then, again, had promptly turned his attention to the attractive brunette next to him.
For the first time since she had arrived in Qaram, Georgie felt that she was getting a glimpse of what life would look like in the weeks and months and years to come. The hand-holding had come to a close and this was now her end of the bargain, to fulfil her duties as his wife, without the emotional reserves there to bolster her because underneath the ‘rubbing along nicely’ was a void that would never be filled. He would have her back, because she was Tilly’s mother and because that was his obligation, but if she’d thought that he would be the one to offer her love and support, someone who would feel her doubts and sometimes her insecurities and ache for her because she meant the world to him, then she’d been kidding herself.
Her job would be to acquit herself well and he would be proud of her. They would have sex and, for him, everything would be just as he wanted it to be. Would he stray? He had a high libido and there was no doubt that, married or not, he would have a million women ready and willing to sleep with him, but he would expect them to continue being lovers and so why would he stray if by doing so he risked Georgie leaving him, thereby jeopardising his daughter’s security?
She would have wished her dreams away on a man who was incapable of giving her the love she wanted, and for the first time she felt that fact truly hit home for her. Dreams and hopes and reading into things had turned the need for pragmatism into lovesick compliance, against all of her best instincts.
A trickle of unease filtered through her, but she kept going until the last guest had gone, at which point Abe went to fetch Tilly from where she was still sound asleep, and still sleeping in exactly the same position as she had been three hours previously. She literally hadn’t moved so much as a finger.
It was a little after midnight.
Many of the relatives were staying at the palace with Basha. Others had been ferried away in chauffeur-driven cars, which had begun circling the courtyard just before midnight, waiting for their clients.
They both fell into the back seat of their car and Georgie lay back and closed her eyes.
‘Tired?’ Abe queried and she looked across at him. He still had Tilly in his arms and she had settled against him, her small body floppy in sleep.
‘Exhausted.’
‘You did very well tonight. I was proud of you.’
‘Good.’ She turned to stare out of the window even though there was nothing to see because it was pitch black outside now that the bright lights of Basha’s palace had been left behind.
She didn’t want to talk even though she didn’t want the space to be able to think either. She didn’t want to give house room to the hurt bubbling inside that she had been practically ignored by Abe for the whole of the evening.
Fatima had long since retired to bed so they both took Tilly up to her bedroom and Georgie began busying herself changing Tilly into pyjamas, aware of Abe hovering in the background and then, eventually, turning on his heel and heading out of the room.
She was yawning as she finally entered the bedroom where Abe, having had a shower, was brushing his teeth, completely naked but for a white towel slung low on his hips and loosely knotted.
He disappeared into the bathroom and emerged a couple of minutes later and strolled towards her.
‘You looked lovely in that dress, Georgie, in case I failed to mention it.’
He ran his fingers along the neckline and she drew in a sharp breath, her body responding on cue, nipples tightening, straining against her lacy bra.
He cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her towards him so that his naked chest lightly brushed the silky fall of her evening dress. Of its own wilful accord, Georgie’s hand rested against his chest, so hard, so broad and so intensely masculine with its dark hair and flat brown nipples she adored running her tongue over.
She skimmed her fingers along his waist and resisted the temptation to tug the damn towel off him.
She didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want her thoughts to be obliterated by the feverish, frantic pleasure of sex.
He did that, she realised. His language was the language of sex and he knew how to use it to his greatest advantage, but the unease that had sprung up during the course of the evening wasn’t going away and for the first time she wasn’t in the mood.
‘I’m tired,’ she said flatly, spinning around and making straight for the chest of drawers to pull out a nightie.
‘Yes, it was a long night,’ he acknowledged slowly, suddenly sounding wary.
She didn’t answer. She locked the bathroom door behind her, changed into her maiden-aunt nightie and emerged to find him lying in bed with the bedside light on. One arm was folded behind his head and his eyes followed her thoughtfully as she busied herself getting her book and checking her phone before slipping into bed next to him and securing the duvet very firmly around her.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or will you stew in silence until the lights get switched off?’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ she denied curtly.
Abe rolled onto his side to stare at her with a frown. She had seemed at ease this evening, even enjoying herself, he would go so far as to say. Had someone said something to upset her?
