a coaster onto the bar in front of the nearest stool and said, ‘Your usual?’
She eyed him warily as she slid onto the stool. ‘Just a lemonade, please.’
It might be a work night but that had never stopped her drinking before. Not that she ever got rollicking drunk. She’d once told him she drank in an effort to anaesthetise herself to the mind-numbing mundanity of her life. It had made all the sore places inside him ache.
Fellow feeling—that was what he and Sarah had shared from the first.
And attraction. At least on his part. It had been instant. And insistent. And it had had nothing to do with his covert—and not so covert—scheme to rid her of Superior Sebastian.
He set her lemonade in front of her. ‘Has Sebastian been giving you any trouble?’ Was she seeing him again?
She paused in the act of reaching for her drink. ‘Good God, no. Not since...’
Not since Majed had thrown him out of her apartment?
‘And good riddance to him.’ She drank deeply and then shot him a mischievous, if half-hearted, grin. ‘Sebastian who?’
He wished he could believe her. She deserved better than the likes of the Sebastians of this world. He took in her pallor, the dark circles under her eyes, and wondered how long it would take her to get over him. ‘You’re better off without him.’ Sebastian had never been worthy of her, had never appreciated her the way she ought to be appreciated.
‘I know.’
He could almost believe her...
‘Look, Majed, I didn’t come here to talk about Sebastian. I—’
She broke off to bite her lip. Something in Majed’s gut coiled at the way her gaze slid away, at the way she compulsively jiggled her straw in her drink. ‘What have you come here to talk about?’
She glanced around the room. It was a quiet night but there were still a dozen people in the bar. ‘It’s not the time or place. I was hoping to talk to you once you’d closed. Or...some other time when you’re free.’
He didn’t want to be alone with her. He folded his arms. His right foot started to tap. ‘Can’t you just tell me now?’
She stopped jiggling her straw to fix him with a glare. ‘No. You deserve more respect than that. And so do I.’
Her gaze slid away. Again. She had a lock of hair that always fell forward onto her face. She’d push it back behind her ear, but it would always work its way free again. Majed held his breath and waited... He didn’t release it until it had fallen forward to brush across her cheek. That silly, defiant, joyful lock of hair could always make him smile.
Stop it!
He continued to gaze at her. She didn’t look like other women. At least, not to him. Which made no sense at all because, of course, she looked like a woman. And while she wasn’t stunningly beautiful, she drew his gaze again and again. He found her...lovely.
Her hair was neither gold nor brown, her skin was neither fair nor olive, and it had taken him a while before he’d realised her eyes were a clear brilliant blue, but once he had he couldn’t forget them. Her features were regular, though some might claim her mouth was too wide, but nothing about Sarah immediately stood out. Not physically. Except... She exuded warmth, as if she housed her own internal sun, and everything about her made his fingers ache to reach out and touch her. He had to fight the urge now, and the effort made his muscles burn.
But... There was something in the set of her shoulders.
It hit him then, why she was here, and his hands slammed to his hips. Her eyes caught the movement...followed it... The pink of her tongue snaked out to moisten her full bottom lip and he went hot all over. He cleared his throat. ‘You’ve lost another job.’
His rasped accusation had her gaze spearing back to his but the heat continued to circle in his blood. Her cheeks went pink but, whether at the accuracy of his accusation or the fact he’d caught her staring, he didn’t know.
‘Well, yes.’ One shoulder lifted. ‘But that’s not what I came to talk about either.’
No?
She stared down her nose at him. ‘Mike told you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he? He told you to give me a job if I needed one.’
He had, but Majed had no intention of admitting as much.
‘Don’t worry, Majed, I haven’t come to beg you for a job.’
He gave thanks for that mercy. If he had to work with her day in and day out, he didn’t know how he’d manage to keep from touching her.
‘Mike asked me to look out for you too, you know?’
He jerked upright. ‘I don’t need looking out for.’
A smile hovered at the corners of her lips. ‘Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You’re an island unto yourself.’
That was exactly what he had to become if he was to ever return to Keddah Jaleel, and the fact she found the idea so nonsensical irked him. Sarah was more than happy to tell anyone who’d listen that she was a complete flake, but she had a perspicacity that was remarkable in its accuracy.
‘I don’t need looking after either, despite appearances to the contrary. I might be a flake...’
There she went, putting herself down.
‘But I’m an independent flake.’
‘I don’t consider you a flake at all.’
She gave a short laugh. ‘I’m going to ask you to hold that thought in the forefront of your mind when we have our conversation.’
What on earth had she come here to discuss?
He stiffened. Was she leaving Melbourne? Had he somehow left her feeling that she had to leave?
Damn it all to hell!
He strode into the middle of the room and clapped his hands together. ‘Excuse me, everyone, but something has come up and I need to close early. Can I ask you all to finish your drinks and leave?’
When he’d locked the door behind the last customer he spun to face Sarah. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’
She stood and wiped her hands down the sides of her trousers. ‘I think you should come and take a seat and—’
‘Stop fudging! Don’t delay any longer, Sarah. Out with it.’
‘Fine!’ She folded her arms and stuck out a hip. She swallowed but lifted her chin. ‘I’m pregnant.’
For a moment her words made no sense. He even momentarily revelled in the relief that she wasn’t planning to leave Melbourne. ‘You’re—’ he rubbed his nape ‘—pregnant?’
She nodded. ‘That’s right.’
‘And...?’
