with Sofia and Maurizia,’ Chrissie swore, springing upright and dashing the tears from her eyes. ‘Jaul stole all that away from me!’
Lizzie knew that was true but she deemed it wiser to say nothing. Chrissie had had a very hard time while she was carrying the twins because it had not been an easy pregnancy and all the pastimes of youth had been lost to her. Her little sister had had to grow up too soon and face heartbreak and betrayal at a time when all women were very vulnerable but that she had done so without a single whine of self-pity and had gone on to establish a career in teaching had made Lizzie feel incredibly proud.
* * *
It would have been a challenge to know which of the parties was the most surprised when Jaul showed up at Lizzie and Cesare’s home that evening.
Lizzie hovered and hurriedly called her husband, feeling that Cesare would be politer and more diplomatic than she could be when forced to deal with the detestable man who had married her sister and let her down so badly.
‘I would like to see Chrissie...’ Jaul announced without a shade of discomfiture.
‘Unfortunately that’s not possible,’ Cesare declared smooth as butter. ‘She’s out—’
‘Out?’ Jaul repeated in apparent surprise.
‘Clubbing,’ Lizzie supplied with pleasure.
‘Then I would like to see the twins,’ Jaul advanced grimly and Lizzie enjoyed a first-hand experience of the stone-statue image Chrissie had employed.
Cesare sighed. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible either. I couldn’t let you see the children without their mother’s permission—’
Jaul’s gaze flamed bright gold. ‘They are my children—’
‘But it doesn’t say so on their birth certificates, does it?’ Lizzie cut in with unashamed satisfaction. ‘You’ll have to come back tomorrow when Chrissie is here—’
‘Where has she gone...clubbing?’ Jaul asked with distaste.
And to Lizzie’s annoyance, Cesare gave Jaul information that she would have withheld.
‘Why on earth did you tell him?’ she demanded when Jaul had driven off again in his glossy limousine adorned with official Marwani flags.
Cesare shot her a sudden unreadable look that disconcerted her. ‘He’s Chrissie’s husband.’
‘But she hates him!’
‘It’s not our place to interfere. Making an enemy of him isn’t likely to help anyone and least of all their children, cara mia,’ he reasoned.
* * *
Escorted into the plush VIP area of the exclusive club, Jaul was restless. His bodyguards had perked up though, he noted with a sudden amusement that pierced his exasperated mood. His protection team was overjoyed to be in what his father would have described as a ‘Western den of iniquity’. He stood on the balcony overlooking the dance floor packed with scantily clad girls below but his thoughts were far removed from the sight.
Chrissie’s family disliked and distrusted him and in the wake of the chaos his father had created that was hardly surprising, Jaul conceded grudgingly. Even so, such a poor reception struck at his pride and his sense of honour for in twenty-eight years of life he had never once shirked his responsibilities. With the exception of Chrissie, he acknowledged bitterly, running through all the reasons why that had happened. He cursed his own pride and vanity for not finding some way to make enquiries of his own and check out what his father had told him.
Yet such misgivings about his only parent would never have occurred to Jaul before. Jaul had been very close to his father and positively coddled. A man who had virtually panicked whenever his only child succumbed to common childhood illnesses was not a man to inspire distrust. Jaul tucked the memories away hastily, working through the bitter bite of his lingering grief for the older man while feeling disloyal about the vague doubts that Chrissie’s condemnations had stirred up.
Instead Jaul found himself wondering how often Chrissie came to such clubs. He told himself that in the circumstances that was none of his business. Unhappily, traits stronger than reason and a bred-in-the-bone possessiveness for what was his quarrelled with that rational conviction. He was hoping that she had more clothes on than women normally wore in such places. He was also already questioning the wisdom of having followed her to such a venue. He had acted on an angry impulse, an urge that rarely led to a satisfactory conclusion. And in the same second that he was about to leave the club he saw her, a bright figure in a short fuchsia-pink dress accompanied by two other young women. She was laughing, smiling, clearly not in turmoil, he noted, gritting his teeth at the sight. He wondered why he was agonising when she, so patently, was not.
Blessing her foresight in their exchange of numbers, he texted her, watched from above as she literally froze, full pouty pink mouth down-curving, shoulders tensing. Annoyance licked through Jaul’s long, lean frame at the clear message that his presence was as welcome in the club to her as a marauding gorilla’s. He summoned the waiter to order champagne and snacks.
* * *
Rage crackled through Chrissie when she read the text.
Please join me in the VIP section
Her one night out on the town in months and Jaul had to ruin it by reminding her that she was not as free as the other young women around her. Suddenly she wished she had a man in tow, rather than being with Cesare’s sisters, who were simply excited to death to be invited to the VIP section. But no, whether she liked it or not she was Jaul’s wife and the mother of his children and telling him to get lost wouldn’t work because Jaul was relentless about getting his own way.
Once she had believed that Jaul was incredibly solid and trustworthy and honourable. She had virtually worshipped the ground he walked on and remembering that now made her feel nauseous. But then, to be fair, the night their relationship had at last changed into something more at university, Jaul had played a blinder, she recalled numbly.
She had finally started dating someone while still suppressing her attraction to Jaul with all her might. Adrian had been blond, blue-eyed and sporty and as different from Jaul as day was from night. She had gone out with Adrian several times, enjoying casual dates in cinemas and cafés and telling him no when he got too pushy about sex. Back then she’d had a complex about sex and hadn’t known or much cared whether she would ever get over it because it had stemmed from something sordid that had frightened her when she was still a child. And she had never told anyone, not even Lizzie, about that sleazy secret.
Adrian and his mates had taken her to a party in a big house and at some stage of the evening her memory had shut down. She suspected Adrian had put something in her soft drink and it had been Jaul who had found her slumped by Adrian’s side and clearly out of it. He had stepped in to rescue her because he had known that, like him, she didn’t touch alcohol. Jaul had punched Adrian when he’d tried to object and had carried her out of the party. She had no recollection of the rest of the night, only of waking up the next morning to find herself safe in Jaul’s apartment. For the first time she had seen another side to Jaul. He hadn’t taken advantage of her. He had stepped in to look after her when she’d needed help, had protected her from what could have been a very nasty scenario, making her suddenly painfully aware that he was miles more mature and decent than many of the young men she met. All her prejudices against him had crumbled
