Midnight Under The Stars. Оливия Гейтс
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you’re right or not because it wouldn’t enter her head that you wouldn’t be.’
‘That could be because I am right.’ He saw the smile curve her soft lips and felt a rush of irritation. ‘Kalila is a sweet-natured, compliant young woman.’
‘As I said—’ she adjusted her glasses with a perfectly manicured finger ‘—perfect for you. Oh look! Are those gazelle?’
Dragging his eyes from those slim fingers, he followed the direction of her gaze and watched as a small herd of slender gazelle sprinted away. From this distance they appeared to be floating on the sand. ‘Yes. You think I am afraid to be challenged?’
‘You hate to be challenged, Mal. And it happens so rarely you’re unlikely to have the opportunity to get used to it. Which is why you always assume you’re right. Isn’t it unusual to see herds of gazelle here? What type are they?’ She reached into her bag for her phone so that she could take a photograph. ‘They’re gorgeous. So graceful.’
‘They are sand gazelle—the word gazelle comes from the Arabic ?az?l. We support numerous conservation projects. Protecting wildlife and preserving their natural habitat is important to us. Killing and capture of all wildlife is illegal in Zubran. And you should stop changing the subject.’
‘I love the colour of their coats. So pale.’
‘Typical of you to comment on their appearance.’ His gaze flickered briefly to the plait of blonde hair that gleamed like gold in the sunlight. ‘The sand gazelle has adapted for life in the desert. The coat reflects the sun’s rays instead of absorbing them and of course it provides camouflage. And, by the way, I have no objection at all to being challenged.’ He knew she was trying to rile him and wondered why she would feel the need when the atmosphere in the car was already heavy with tension. ‘My wife will be my equal.’
Her laughter was spontaneous and genuine and she was still laughing as she slipped her phone back into her bag. ‘Sorry, but you have to admit that’s funny.’
‘What is funny?’
‘You thinking that your wife will be your equal. In which universe, Mal?’
It was a struggle to hang onto his temper. ‘She will be my equal.’
‘As long as she agrees with you.’ Laughter gone, she was cool and suddenly he wanted to shake that cool.
‘So the thought of me marrying her doesn’t upset you?’
‘Why would I be upset?’ The sunglasses were back on her nose, obscuring her expression. ‘You are free to marry whomever you choose. It’s none of my business, although I’m wishing now I’d made it my business. I should have called Kalila and given her the chance for girl talk. Poor thing.’
‘Poor thing? You and I were together for over a year.’
‘It felt much, much longer, don’t you think? And now we’re not together, which is a big relief for both of us. If you’re asking me if news of your wedding was a shock, then the answer is no. I always knew you’d get married. You’re the marrying kind, Mal.’ Her answer was just a little too swift. A little too glib.
‘And what is “the marrying kind”?’
‘Someone who wants to get married, obviously. People get married for different reasons. Sometimes it’s because they need financial security. Sometimes it’s because they’re too maladjusted to live by themselves—’ she suppressed a yawn ‘—increasingly it’s because they see divorce as a lucrative option. In your case it’s because you have a sense of responsibility towards your father and your country. You feel a duty to produce children and for that you need a wife because you wouldn’t contemplate any other alternative.’
Mal had forgotten just how cynical she was about marriage.
He assumed her extreme reaction was somehow linked with her own background but, apart from telling him her mother had raised her alone, she’d given him no details. They’d spent their time in the present, never revisiting the past.
Would things have been different, he wondered, if he’d questioned her more? Would it have helped if he’d gained more insight into the workings of her mind?
‘You think those are the only reasons for marriage?’ He drove fast, speeding along one of the wide roads that crossed the desert, wishing they’d never started this conversation. Truthfully, he didn’t want to talk about his impending marriage. He didn’t want to think about it until the moment came to make his vows. He’d delayed for as long as he could and now it was oppressively close, reality pressing in on him like dark clouds.
It was true that he’d proposed marriage to Kalila within weeks of his relationship with Avery breaking down, but there were reasons for that. Reasons he hadn’t shared with her and didn’t intend to share with her.
What was the point?
Her phone rang and she took the call. Already this morning she’d been on the phone to the office at least four times, addressing problems.
‘Doves?’ Mal failed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice as she ended yet another call. ‘You really do deal with the big issues, don’t you?’
‘If you’re implying that my business has no value then I feel obliged to point out that the success of the launch party I arranged for the opening of the new hotel in Zubran has resulted in such effective publicity that the place is now running at one hundred per cent occupancy, thus offering a considerable boost to your local economy both in terms of employment and increased tourism, which has additional benefits for the surrounding area.’ Without looking up, she scrolled through her emails. ‘But it’s true that as well as the proven commercial benefits of employing my company, there are less tangible ones. I create memories for people. Memories that will last for ever. I am often privileged to be present at the happiest moments of people’s lives. Anniversaries, engagements, weddings—moments that would undoubtedly always be special, but which I can make unforgettable. By recommending those doves that you consider to be of so little importance, I have probably saved his marriage. It’s ironic, don’t you think, that I, a self-confessed cynic about marriage, should be working to preserve one while you, a staunch supporter, mock my efforts.’
‘I wasn’t mocking you.’
‘You mocked my business, Mal. You never took my business seriously.’ There was a snap in her voice and she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. ‘Sorry. This is history. I don’t know why we’re talking about it except that it passes the time.’
‘I apologise,’ he breathed. ‘No one could fail to admire what you’ve achieved with your company.’
‘Is it the “frivolous” nature of my business that disturbs you most, or the fact that I work like a man?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ But he did know what she was talking about and his hands gripped the wheel just a little bit tighter.
‘Oh come on, Mal! You like to think of yourself as progressive, but you’re not comfortable with a woman who is as passionate about her work as a man would be. You don’t think I should fly around the world, live out of suitcases and occasionally sleep in my office. That’s what men do, isn’t it? You believe that work is what a woman does until she finds a man, marries and has a family. It would be quaint if it weren’t so exasperating.’
‘I have no problems with your work ethic. I admire it.’
‘From a distance. Even now, you can’t admit the truth.’
‘And what is “the truth”? Enlighten me.’ They were snapping at each other, releasing the almost intolerable energy they created together in the only way open to them.
‘You want a woman barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. No opinions. No life of her own. That is why you are marrying Kalila.’
He