Their morning had proceeded as much as their night had. Going through the motions of getting ready for the day, while painfully conscious of each other, both aware it was strange and awkward and neither really knowing what to do about it except press on until it wasn’t.
‘Not even a hint?’ Maria asked from across the cabin.
He opened his mouth to say it was somewhere she had always wanted to go, and then realised that she may have already been there. With someone else. His mouth shut with a snap. She frowned at him and then eventually looked out the window.
He’d been oddly pleased with his two-o’clock-in-the-morning idea of coming here. He’d dimmed the brightness of his phone screen so as not to wake her as he made theincrediblylast minute booking, and notified the staff of the jet. All of whom would be handsomely recompensed for the change in itinerary.
But just the thought, the mere possibility, that she’d already come here with someone else was enough to sour his mood significantly. Which was nothing but a slightly bruised ego, he told himself sternly. He just had to get over it. And if she asked him about it? Reminded him that she’d once told him how much she wanted to come here? He’d lie and tell her it was just a happy accident.
They landed three hours later, Maria peering out of the small cabin windows to try and identify where they were from what little she could see.
‘Oh!’ she exclaimed as they were hit with a wall of heat the moment the flight attendant opened the door for them. Maria looked back at him, something like excitement and hope shining in her gaze.
‘You didn’t,’ she accused.
‘Well, as I’m not one hundred percent sure what you think I might have not done, I—’
‘Oh,’ she said again, with such sheer delight it left him speechless. He hadn’t heard her sound like that since they were both teenagers.
If the palm trees planted around the lowslung building that formed Manera Airport hadn’t given it away then Welcome to Al-Maghrib did it. The architectural design criss-crossing the front and sides of the building was impressive and eye-catching.
Maria was almost jumping up and down on the spot with excitement, in direct contrast to how she’d been on the plane and for the first time since last night, maybe longer, a thin thread of tension unspooled from deep within him. He’d done the right thing. Even if she had come here with someone else. As staff checked their passports and luggage, she raised onto her tiptoes and whispered in his ear.
‘You remembered.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he denied.
‘I don’t believe you,’ she said with the biggest smile. ‘Thank you.’
He allowed a smile to pull at one corner of his mouth and she raised an eyebrow and pointed at him. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she mouthed as she accepted her passport back from the administrator and went to peer through the window that looked out at the city of Marrakesh.
It wasn’t long before they were on their way in a chauffeur driven car towards their destination. A lot of the main hotels on the strip were luxurious to the extreme, but Micha had wanted something more… His mind skated over the wordintimateand choseprivateinstead.
And the private villa, half an hour away from the city, on the grounds of what had once been a palace, had caught his eye immediately. It was modest in size, but absolutely outstanding in terms of amenities. Not only was there a bedroom suite, there was also a separate suite for massage and pampering treatments, a private pool, a personal chef, and twenty-four-hour waitstaff. No expense had been spared. Less than five hours after leaving London, Micha and Maria stepped out of the car and into paradise.
They both just stood there for a moment. The carved detail around the flat roof of the one-storey building filtered the setting sun’s rays like a cut-out paper lantern, glowing a beautiful orange yellow, before the gaze was drawn to the sea.
Micha felt the breath sigh out of him, as if the tension was beginning to leave his body just at the sight of it. He’d never come here. Never been able to, after how they’d left things. But now he was here with Maria it felt…right.
Maria couldn’t help herself. From the moment they were welcomed into the villa, she just felt thrilled. The interior design was incredible, brass finishings, incredible detailed cut-outs in the panels that divided living areas, or shielded lamps, or the exquisite tiles in a bathroom that was near pornographic in its luxury. The bath was sunken into the floor, and little sconces held flickering flames already lit, the scent of rose in the air, and petals dancing on the water.
But beyond all of that was the fact that he’d remembered. And instead of trying to hide how that made her feel, she welcomed it, let it warm her like the ambient temperature around her, so much more pleasant than London had been.
‘Dinner will be served in a short while out on the terrace,’ the house staff member announced before disappearing magically.
‘Where does he go?’ Maria whispered to Micha when they were left on their own.
‘There are hidden rooms in the walls,’ he replied with such a dead tone that her gaze snapped up to his in shock, only to find laughter dancing in his eyes.
She smiled, tried to hide it behind her hand and then wondered why she should be so embarrassed.
He caught her hand just as she was about to pull it away.
‘You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to hide your smile from me,’ he said, his burnished gaze becoming serious.
She nodded, her heart leaping. She remembered. Remembered how he would look at her when she laughed. As if she were the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. He’d do and say silly things just to make her laugh. As if her pleasure was his.
She swallowed, her heart turning in her chest. ‘I’m going to get changed for dinner,’ she said, slipping from the room before he could divine her thoughts.
