Twice Upon a Time (25 page)

‘She’s in New York for a few days,’ he said. ‘It’s okay though, I understand if you don’t want to help me out.’

Cinda made a face. ‘See, now I can’t say no, when you put it like that,’ she said, shaking her head.

Gus shook his head, reddening. ‘No, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.’

Cinda smiled. ‘Relax, I can come to dinner, ‘ she said. ‘But I have nothing to wear. Where is this dinner? Can I go back to Paris and change? I might have to borrow something from Jonas.’

‘The dinner’s in London’ said Gus.

‘
London?’
Cinda exclaimed in disbelief. ‘You’re going to London for
dinner
?’ She shook her head.

Gus shrugged, smiling a little.

Cinda paused a moment longer. ‘Okay, I’ll come,’ she said finally.

‘Oh, Lucinda, thank you,’ he said, breathing a sigh of relief.

‘You know you can call me Cinda,’ she said, raising her eyebrows.

Gus just smiled. ‘I’ll have my secretary organise some gowns for you to choose from and the staff will pack an overnight bag for you. We’ll stay at the Connaught, if that’s acceptable to you.’

Cinda laughed and shook her head, thinking of some of the dives she and Jonas had stayed in across Europe. ‘I guess it’s acceptable, if you like that sort of thing,’ she said in a silly voice.

Gus went to speak and then stopped. ‘You’re teasing me, aren’t you?’

‘You’re not just a pretty face,’ she said, winking.

He laughed. ‘You make me feel . . .’ he said and she held her breath, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

‘. . . alive,’ he finished, and then, turning a shade between orchid and plum, he left the room.

They flew to London from the estate at lunchtime.

Cinda, always a slightly nervous flyer, felt like she was going to throw up the whole way across the channel. The small private aircraft pitched wildly, buffeted by the wind, and Cinda barely noticed the luxurious decor of the cosy cabin.

As the plane came in to land, she closed her eyes and didn’t open them again until Gus told her they were safely on English soil. As she took a deep, calming breath, she finally realised she had clutched his hand all the way over.

‘God, sorry,’ she said, seeing the finger marks she had left on his skin.

‘It’s fine, I understand,’ he said in his gentlemanly way. ‘We’ll go straight to the hotel. The gowns my secretary organised will be delivered for you,’ he said. ‘I had Jonas send your measurements.’

‘Jesus, you work fast, don’t you,’ she laughed, kind of embarrassed to think of him knowing her measurements. She didn’t usually care about that kind of thing, but she couldn’t help mentally comparing her hip measurement to her guess at Perrette’s.

Enough with the negative self talk
, she told herself as they were bundled into a waiting Audi.

Gus sat next to her in the back seat, occasionally taking calls, speaking in a number of languages. Cinda had never wanted anyone more, she realised, thinking guiltily of Ludo.

As she stared out the window at the passing streets, she wondered if it was because Gus was so in control.

‘Cinda? Did you hear me?’ she heard him say.

She turned to look at him with a smile on her face. ‘You called me Cinda,’ she said, knowing she was blushing.

‘Did I?’ he answered, seemingly uninterested.

Cinda felt disappointment prick at her heart, but she plastered a neutral expression on her face. ‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’ she asked politely.

‘I asked what size shoe you wear,’ he said, holding his phone away from his face.

‘Eight,’ she answered and looked out the window again.

What was wrong with her? How could she go from liking one brother to liking the other like this? She felt her eyes fill with guilty tears. Ludo was doing penance in Africa, making the world a better place, while she was here in the lap of luxury fantasising about Gus.

The car pulled into a circular driveway and then went down an alley. They paused as a door off to the right was raised and the car pulled into darkness.

‘Private entrance,’ said Gus, looking intently at his phone.

Cinda said nothing.

The car stopped and her door was opened by a man in a suit. ‘Welcome to the Connaught, ma’am,’ he said. Gus just nodded curtly but Cinda smiled at the man and took his extended hand to shake.

‘Thank you,’ she said warmly. ‘I’ve heard wonderful things about the hotel. I’m thrilled to be staying here.’

Gus looked at her with an odd expression on his face, but the man in the suit seemed genuinely pleased and proud.

‘Yes, thank you,’ said Gus. It sounded like an afterthought, Cinda thought, but it was better than nothing.

They were escorted upstairs and the suited man used a card to unlock the door.

Cinda was about to step through when one of the bodyguards put his hand out and stopped her. Two guards entered the suite and swept it quickly but effectively. Then they came back and nodded to Gus.

‘Thank you,’ said Gus to the man, and Cinda noticed his tone was more pleasant than usual. ‘We’ll let you know if we need anything.’

They bodyguards and the man left Gus and Cinda alone in the suite. They stood facing each other.

‘You were very nice to the manager of the hotel,’ said Gus. ‘I must remember to be more patient.’

Cinda smiled. ‘Everyone’s just doing their job. It doesn’t take much to show people you appreciate their help.’

Gus looked down at the blue carpet. ‘Your cuts are always expertly placed, Cinda,’ he said, and for a moment she thought she’d really offended him, but then she saw a small smile on his face.

‘You’ll live,’ she said cheekily.

Cinda looked around the suite. Decorated in blue and white, it was classically luxurious and chic.

‘Which one’s my room?’ she asked.

‘You choose,’ said Gus casually, walking to the window to look outside at the grey London day.

Cinda, desperate for something to do other than stare at Gus, went over to a door on one side of the suite. Peeking inside, she found a stunning bedroom with a white four-poster bed. The other bedroom, a little smaller, was no less beautiful. The suite also had a dining room off the living room, and even a balcony with pots full of geraniums spilling over the railing.

As she came back inside, the sound of music filled the suite. Gus was looking through an iPod, flicking through the playlists, his face a study of handsome concentration. Cinda watched him, leaning against the door.

He looked up from the iPod and their eyes met and she felt warm tingles spread through her body.

He put down the device and they stood on either side of the room. He looked like he wanted to say something to her, and he took one step towards her when the door chime rang.

‘
Cazzo!’
she heard him mutter as he went and opened the door.

The man in the suit was back with a rack of dresses in bags.

‘The dresses you ordered have just arrived, Your Highness,’ he said, wheeling them into the suite. ‘Which bedroom would you like them in?’

‘The main one is fine,’ he said and Cinda followed the man into the room where he left the rack.

‘Thank you,’ she said as he left the room.

She unzipped the first bag. A frothy concoction of sea-green chiffon emerged from the bag. Cinda made a face.

‘Not your colour?’

She looked up to see Gus in the doorway, hands in pockets, a wry smile on his face.

Unzipping the next bag, she pulled out a black sequined number. ‘This might work,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘If I was a porn star,’ she added as she noticed the plunging neckline.

Gus snorted with laughter. ‘I’m sure there are better ones,’ he said.

Cinda continued unzipping bags, and soon all the dresses were revealed.

She started two piles, one of ‘no ways’ and one of ‘maybes’. When she was done sorting, she looked up at Gus, who had watched the sorting process without comment.

‘Which one?’ she asked.

‘The sheikh is quite conservative, but his wives appreciate fashion, so my picks are this or this,’ he said, picking up a long, fitted black-lace dress with cap sleeves and a white Grecian-style gown, with a silver rope tie at the back.

‘God, I don’t know,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘Try them on,’ he said casually, leaving the room.

Cinda pulled off her jeans and top, then stepped into the white dress. She pulled it up and adjusted it. Surveying the array of shoes that had arrived with the dresses, she selected a pair of silver heels. Putting them on, she eyed her reflection in the mirror.

It was a beautiful dress, there was no denying it. But was it her?

She opened the door and walked out into the living room, where Gus sat on a chair, his legs crossed elegantly, one arm draped over his knee.

Cinda felt herself blushing, as though she was walking up the aisle on her wedding day.

‘It’s lovely,’ he said, his eyes running over her. She blushed under his piercing gaze. ‘But try the black one.’

Cinda turned back to the bedroom and pulled off the dress, laying it out carefully on the bed. Slipping the black-lace dress over her head, she did up the side zip and looked in the mirror.

She almost gasped at the transformation. The dress caught her every curve in a pleasing way. The tiny capped sleeves made her arms seem longer, more elegant, and the scooped neckline showed just a tantalising glimpse of her bust line. She followed the line of the dress down her body. It was fitted at the waist, then fell in lacy waves around her feet.

Not bothering to put on heels this time, she opened the door and looked across at Gus as she walked out of the bedroom.

His eyes widened as she walked towards him. ‘That’s it,’ he breathed.

Cinda looked down at herself. ‘It’s not too risqué for the sheik?’

‘No,’ said Gus shaking his head slowly. ‘Not even a bit.’

Cinda smiled and their eyes met. She had never felt more beautiful in her life than she did at that moment with Gus’s eyes on her. Her heart leapt uncomfortably as she remembered it was the wrong brother making her feel like that.

She turned abruptly back to the bedroom, breaking the spell. Shutting the door, she flopped onto the bed and put her head in her hands.

FML
, she thought as she stared at the closed door, wishing Gus would come bursting in and declare that he was madly in love with her. But he was outside, no doubt texting Perrette to find out what he should wear to dinner or something.

Sighing, she lay back on the bed, not caring about crushing the dress now. All she cared about was the crush that was breaking her heart.

30

Gus watched Cinda out of the corner of his eye as she charmed the sheikh’s wives. The women’s faces were covered, but even from across the room he could see their eyes sparkling.

He tried to imagine Perrette in the same situation. Her barely concealed bigotry when faced with people different from herself was sometimes problematic in situations like this. If she’d come tonight, she would have stayed by Gus’s side all night, barely speaking to the women, and certainly not making them laugh as Cinda was now.

His eyes wandered down her body. The dress was a perfect fit, and the way it hugged her waist was making it difficult to concentrate on his conversation with the sheikh.

Gus had just realised that he had no idea what the sheikh was talking about when the waiter walked into the room and announced that dinner was ready.

They moved into the exclusive restaurant’s private dining room and Gus sat down at the right hand of the sheikh, Cinda was directed to sit opposite Gus. As they sat down, their eyes met across the table. They held eye contact for a moment and in that second, Gus felt all at once that he wasn’t born to be king; he was born to be with Cinda.

Get a grip
, Gus told himself firmly as they broke eye contact. There was no way he and Cinda could be together. There were simply too many obstacles. And besides, he had a duty to Perrette.

The dinner was a great success. Each of the five courses was more sumptuous than the last, and Cinda spoke easily to the sheikh and his wives. Even though he tried, Gus could hardly keep his eyes off her throughout the entire meal.