Authors: EMME CROSS
“I want to go to Disneyland. Mom got us passports and everything but we haven’t had the money. Maybe if we had a place to stay?”
Linus laughed and snitched one of Johan’s fries. “I might be able to do a bit better than Disneyland. Ever ride a camel?”
* * *
Astrid was still protesting as he led them out the front door. The paparazzi had gone home, following his call to a private security company. “Is that your boss?” he asked as she reached into her purse. When she nodded, he took her cellphone from her.
“This is Linus Craig. Astrid is taking a few weeks off to recuperate, as I’m sure you can understand. I’m counting on you to look after her clients until she gets back. Did I mention I’m in the market for a house and office space here in Oslo? She’ll be looking after my interests.” A pause. “Thanks for your help.”
Astrid wasn’t certain whether to be amazed or appalled by his high-handed actions. “I haven’t packed. I don’t even know where we’re going!”
“To ride a camel.” Linus and Johan exchanged grins.
* * *
“This is my stop.” He nudged her awake.
“Are we there?”
“This is Paris. I have business here. Sit tight and soon you’ll be in Morocco. Angela will meet you at the airport and take care of everything.” He sat back on his haunches next to her seat watching as she tried to process what was happening.
“Relax and enjoy yourself. Put on some weight; you’re too thin.”
He was rewarded with the first faint genuine smile he’d seen on her face. “That’s one of the nicest things a man can say to a woman. I thought you’d be joining us.”
“You need some time alone to heal, the two of you. I might catch up with you in a week or so. Let Angela know when you’re ready to come home and she will arrange it. But,” he said, taking her cold white hand in his, “don’t rush. There’s no need to rush. Take some time for yourself for a change.” He kissed her lightly on the temple and was gone, stopping to say goodbye to Johan who was in the cockpit. “No flying the plane, kid, and don’t fall off the camel.”
The next thing Astrid knew they’d landed in Morocco and were being greeted by a bossy woman with an Australian accent.
Marrakesh’s cauldron heat, smells and colours aroused Astrid from her languor.
Behind massive carved wooden doors, a quiet cool oasis awaited. There was a tiled courtyard with a patch of blue sky four stories up. A fountain tinkled. They were served iced mint tea dripping with condensation in filigreed silver glasses.
A boy about Johan’s age greeted them.
“I’m Tim. Wanna go for a swim?”
Johan nodded, and the two of them were off. She could hear them clattering up the stairs. The pool was upstairs?
Angela led her to an elevator with scrolled iron doors.
The roof was already baking in the morning sun so they settled under a canvas sail. Astrid picked at her fruit and yogurt, nodding over her bowl despite the bracing Moroccan coffee.
Angela took charge, leading her down to a bedroom. Dusky light filtered through the slats of shuttered windows overlooking the courtyard. The only sound that drifted up was the trickling water from the fountain below.
“I’ll look after your boy and make sure he lies down in the heat of the day or at least comes inside and plays video games. With your fair skin, the two of you will burn if I don’t watch it. If you need anything, dial nine on the house phone.”
The door had barely closed before Astrid was asleep.
It was dark when she awoke. Where was she? Where was Johan? She opened the shutters and in the courtyard below her son and the other boy, Tim, were playing with a small dog.
She stepped back to look at her surroundings. The room was huge with whitewashed stucco walls. The iron four-poster bed was dressed in navy and gold and had a mattress fit for a princess and a pea.
After a shower in the navy and gold tiled bathroom, she felt ready for the world.
Angela looked up from her book. “You slept ten straight hours. After dinner, you might want to double that. I think Johan may be out for the count shortly too. I’ve put him in the room across the hall so you won’t have to go far to check on him. I figured out your sizes and fresh clothes are on their way.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
Angela waved away the comment. “Anything for Linus.”
Astrid was still pondering that statement when dinner arrived. For the first time since the storm, she was hungry. There was lamb with chickpeas and apricots and ice cold tangy white wine. She drank in the peace and night air, listening as the boys recounted their adventures. Finally, Johan began to wind down like a tired top.
Angela picked him up easily and led them to their rooms. Astrid tucked in Johan with a kiss; he already had a tan. She got in beside him and curling next to him, dozed off, feeling more at peace than she had in years.
* * *
The next ten days passed in a succession of naps in the chaises by the pool, lazy dinners under the stars with the boys and blessed silence. No demands on her and no worries. Angela appeared as if by magic when Astrid needed anything — a massage, or a call to Johan’s father.
She found her wardrobe stocked with beautiful clothes. There was flowing linen along with silk caftans in shades of lavender and grey. There were bathing suits and lingerie in white and pale blue and a silver dress cut up high on the hip. Angela told her Linus had arranged it all.
As if such a busy, important man would bother worrying about what a virtual stranger was wearing! Besides, Astrid hadn’t heard a word since he’d dropped them off in his private plane. When she asked Angela how she could get in touch to thank him, she shrugged. “Linus is in Asia. I can never figure out the damn time difference. Try a text.”
“Does he ever come here?”
“He used to when his kids were small. They liked camels as much as your boy.”
“You’re changing the subject. I was asking about Linus.”
“So you were.” Angela turned back to her book.
* * *
Astrid let herself drift, luxuriating in the sunshine. She watched Johan play soccer with the neighbourhood boys and shopped for trinkets in the medina. There were spa treatments. When she thought at all, it wasn’t about Sven and Liam, Nils or her life in Oslo. It was about Linus. There had been a brief phone call to ask if she was having a good time and now they were leaving the next day.
“Johan, make sure you behave.” He, Tim and Angela were going on a night time safari, sleeping in tents under the stars like Bedouins. A last adventure before they returned to reality. Astrid had begged off, planning on a final night of blissful sleep. Besides, she didn’t like camping.
She was enjoying a late afternoon slumber by the pool when a noise woke her.
“Should I have wakened sleeping beauty with a kiss?” Linus was sitting at the end of her chaise, smiling broadly, his eyes shining.
Astrid automatically started to smooth down her clothes until she realized she wasn’t wearing any, nothing but a tiny white bikini. Her pale skin had not so much darkened in the Moroccan sun as grown more luminous.
He handed her a flute of champagne. “You’ve gained some weight and look well rested. The break has done you a world of good.”
“I can’t thank you enough for everything.” She gestured at her surroundings, her bathing suit, the wine . . . His unwavering stare made her uncomfortable. She began to babble. “You missed everyone.”
“I caught them on their way out. Sounds like Johan’s planning a career as a camel trainer.”
The face that was normally so impassive opened into a wide smile. “I’ve never seen him so happy. He’s already invited Tim to Norway for skiing. That’s if we can work out the travel arrangements.”
“Leave that to me.” Linus leaned back, his hand brushing her leg. The slight accidental touch made her tremble.
“Angela said you rarely come here.”
“Too busy, but I hope to change that. It’s time I started enjoying the fruits of my labour.” He yawned.
I’m boring him, thought Astrid.
Linus took her hand in his. “Still jetlagged. I’m going to crash for a bit. Meet you in the courtyard in ninety minutes? We’ll have dinner and you can tell me all about your vacation.”
Astrid scrubbed in the shower. Dinner. Where? What should she wear? She hadn’t felt so nervous in years. Was this a date? Would he expect something in return for his hospitality? After all, most men did.
Astrid almost wore the sexy, silver dress to dinner, but at the last minute, switched to a white silk caftan. It was attached at the shoulders and wrists. Material billowed around her arms and body. She was covered from head to foot, and had a pair of cheap, market-bought faux-jewelled sandals on her feet. Her flaxen hair was left loose, falling to just below her shoulder blades, framing her slightly flushed face.
Linus was waiting, dressed in black linen pants. The matching shirt was open at the neck displaying his chest hair, speckled with grey. He looked unexpectedly approachable out of his familiar, formal suits.
“I was hoping you’d wear that.”
“Angela said, but I never thought. You really picked out these clothes for me?”
“You should always wear clean, simple lines. Nothing should detract from that face.” He touched her right cheekbone with a finger, tracing its high arc, until he saw a glint of panic in her eyes.
“I stopped in Sydney on the way back from Asia and thought of you.” Relieved at the interruption, Astrid opened the padded box in his hand and was startled to find a necklace and matching earrings of huge mottled stones shimmering in shades of grey, pearl and lavender.
“I bought an opal mine. You’re the perfect person to model my latest acquisition.” Astrid trembled as he lifted her hair to do up the clasp and fasten the long chunky earrings.
“Perfect. Like Diana, Goddess of the Hunt.”
“You shouldn’t . . .”
“Shhh. It gives me pleasure.” His voice took on a deeper timber, that resonated in her body to her toes and up again.
Astrid swallowed.
He took her by the hand. Instead of leading her out the front door, they slowly climbed the stairs to the roof. A table had been set up under the stars. Lighted candles floated in the pool and star-shaped lanterns dangled from the pavilion roof. Everywhere there were white roses and their scent infused the night air. The only sounds were the wind rustling in the palm fronds, the drift of street noise below and the tinkling of fountains.
“Don’t thank me. Angela arranged this.”
“She didn’t say anything about you coming.”
“I asked her not to.” He pulled out her chair and placed a linen napkin on her lap. “I wanted to surprise you, one last time.”
“It’s lovely.” She looked away from those intense brown eyes as her own filled with tears. Wait staff appeared from nowhere to pour the water and wine.
Over dinner she told him about the last two weeks. Linus asked about Johan, his camel rides and their jeep ride over the sand dunes. She asked him about his business trip and about the challenges for an American doing business in China. They discussed where he wanted to live in Oslo. He asked her to compile a shortlist of her dream properties for him to see.
“I can’t eat another bite. My clothes won’t fit when I get home.”
“Maybe you could wear caftans.”
“In Oslo?” Unimaginable. In Norway, Astrid was prim and proper, a working woman and mother who was aloof and unapproachable. Here, under the stars, Linus thought she was a dream made real.
They took their wine to the edge of the roof and looked out over the sprawling city and the desert beyond.
“He’s fine.”
“How did you know I was thinking about Johan?”
“You’re a mother. Liam’s fine as well. I talked to Sunny the other day. She’s watered your plants and collected the mail.”
“That was kind of her.” He noticed the catch in her voice.
“Don’t hate Sunny for getting close to Liam. It’s what she does and he could use an ally. Besides, disliking Sunny isn’t worth the effort. In the end you’ll love her like everyone else.”
“Do you love her?”
“Of course. But I’m not
in
love with her. I thought I was, once.” He laughed. “My ex called it ‘my infatuation with that perpetually pregnant pedomorph.’ Maybe she was right. Perhaps it was a mid-life crisis. But I’m over it now and I’m happy for her. Even more surprising, I’m actually starting to like Sven.”
“I think I was in love with the idea of loving Sven. He made me feel young and attractive and sexy.”
“You are young,” Linus leant forward, his lips brushing her smooth, silken hair. “You are incredibly beautiful, both inside and out.” The lips grazed a shoulder blade. “And you are so sexy.” They moved to hers in the slightest of touches, like the wind. Not a cool soothing wind, a sirocco — hot and dry.
She moaned, waiting for him to grab at her but he didn’t. He stared; their faces were millimetres apart and the tension mounted. Astrid read the passion in his eyes, inhaled his quickened breath. Why wasn’t he touching her? She had always had been the passive one. But Linus was waiting. Hesitant, she carefully put aside her wine glass, clasped her arms around his neck and kissed him.