Modern Romance May 2019: Books 1-4 Read online

  ‘Miss Johnson.’ He offered a thin smile and a vice-like handshake but even if his stance was polite, his black eyes were unfriendly and the message was clear—You are not welcome.

  ‘I’m very sorry for your loss,’ Aubrey offered, surprised that he knew her name and realising it hadn’t been chance that she had been allowed into the service. Perhaps they knew about Jobe and her mom after all. ‘It was a lovely service.’

  He didn’t respond.

  ‘I was actually just leaving,’ Aubrey said.

  ‘Perhaps that would be for the best.’

  Ouch.

  Khalid now came and stood at her side, like a security guard, Aubrey thought, and it angered her, for they all clearly thought she was either trouble or not good enough to be here.

  Aubrey was actually now tempted to accept a drink from the passing waiter just to throw it in Abe’s face, to tell him that his father had never looked at her or her mother with such contempt. She was suddenly sick of the Devereuxes and their closed ranks and minds, and tired of being looked at as if she’d brought in dirt on her shoe.

  Khalid could feel the tension rip through her, and privately he considered it deserved—Aubrey had been nothing but polite and discreet and had clearly been about to leave.

  It was too late for that now, though, for Chantelle had arrived.

  Ah, Chantelle.

  Khalid inwardly sighed.

  She had never quite made it to wife and remained bitter about that fact. Her hair was coiffed to perfection as always, yet her face was flushed from champagne and, if there was such a thing as too many diamonds, Chantelle, to Khalid’s mind, was just that.

  ‘I don’t believe we’ve met,’ she said to Aubrey. ‘I’m Chantelle, Jobe’s partner.’

  Khalid felt his jaw grit a little. Chantelle had been Jobe’s date on many an occasion, yes. But the great man himself had kept her at arm’s length before his demise.

  ‘I’m Aubrey,’ she said, and held out her hand. ‘I’m very sorry for your loss.’

  Aubrey’s hand wasn’t accepted.

  ‘The correct thing to do, at an occasion such as this,’ Chantelle hissed, ‘is to say who you are and your relationship to the deceased.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Aubrey said, refusing to let on she was terrified. ‘I wasn’t aware of that—it’s my first funeral.’

  And Khalid, who rarely smiled, especially on a day like today, found that he was suppressing one, as Aubrey sidestepped the demand for more information as to who she was.

  Yet Chantelle, having spent a week locked out of Devereux discussions and attorneys, having spent a week being less than magnanimously told that while she could join the family at the service, the fact was she wasn’t one of them.

  The Devereuxes were bastards to those not their own.

  And Aubrey, alone, stood in the volatile thick of it.

  ‘So where have you travelled from?’ Chantelle asked, assuming correctly that Aubrey wasn’t from the East Side.

  ‘Vegas.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Yes—oh.

  Just. How. Old. Is. She? Chantelle’s eyes screamed as she spoke. ‘Do you get to Manhattan much?’

  ‘It’s my first time here,’ Aubrey answered.

  ‘And you know Jobe, how?’

  He had a long affair with my mother, Aubrey was tempted to sweetly reply. He adored her and treated her like a queen. They used to play strip poker in our trailer. Not while I was there, mind. Jobe was a gentleman like that. He really was. I only found that out the other day when my mom was reminiscing. I was there, though, when he drank cheap whiskey while my mom cooked him spiced chicken wings. They were his favourite, not that you’d know.

  He helped with my homework. You’d twist that and make that sound sleazy, but it never, ever was. He took us to Disney and to see the Hoover Dam and we went in a helicopter over the Grand Canyon. Me! A girl from a trailer park who’d never had a daddy, let alone been on a holiday, flew over the Grand Canyon in a helicopter.

  They loved each other and my mom never took a single red cent. Not even when she got so burnt, so broken she couldn’t afford her bills, still she didn’t let him know. She wanted him to remember her as the beauty she had been and the love they had once had.

  But, of course, Aubrey didn’t say any of that.

  She had nothing left in the tank. Fuelled on no sleep and a single granola bar, suddenly she felt a little sick and also terribly close to tears when Chantelle, her eyes bulging, finally snapped. ‘Who exactly are you?’

  Aubrey could feel all the eyes on her. She had no idea what to say and was ruing her decision to come. Her heart felt as if it had moved up to her throat and she wanted to turn and run.

  Khalid could feel her silent agony as she stood before the inquisition.

  While his brief was to protect the Devereux family from Aubrey, his instinct was suddenly to protect her from them. As much as he loved them, Khalid knew their might and, aware of their ruthlessness with outsiders, he stepped in. ‘Aubrey is here with me.’

  Aubrey blinked as he spoke and dared not turn to him; instead she watched as Chantelle turned from angry, to confused, to mollified, right before her eyes.

  ‘Oh...’ Chantelle’s pursed lips parted in surprise. ‘I must apologise. I didn’t realise.’

  ‘Why would you, Chantelle?’ Khalid responded. ‘I never discuss my private life.’

  ‘So, how long have you two been—?’ Chantelle persisted, but Khalid would not be interrogated by anyone and interrupting the question he turned to Aubrey. ‘Come on.’

  Oh, the blessed relief of walking out of the wake with Khalid by her side where it felt no harm could come to her. She liked it that he did not take her hand or snake an arm around her waist, just because the scenario he’d created possibly meant he could, and in the foyer Aubrey turned and faced him, and was suddenly shy. ‘Thank you for that.’

  ‘It’s no problem.’

  ‘I just didn’t know what to say...’

  ‘You don’t have to explain your dealings with Jobe to me.’

  Dealings? Aubrey frowned at his choice of word, unsure quite what he meant. ‘Well, thanks again.’ She offered her hand and perhaps that was the wrong thing to do, for he did not accept it, though for a reason Aubrey hadn’t thought of—‘Isn’t that a little formal when we’re supposed to be a couple? Chantelle is just over there.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ She nodded and pulled her hand back, and then nerves caught up and generated the most stupid thing Aubrey could possibly say. ‘Perhaps I should have kissed you instead?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Khalid responded.

  She flushed in embarrassment at her stupid words but then he stepped in and saved her there to. ‘Aubrey, even were you my date there would be no affection between us and Chantelle would know that.’

  ‘Oh.’ She smiled in relief and even made a little joke. ‘So, no public displays of affection. Noted.’

  Khalid was about to correct her—no, no affection. Period.

  But that would have led them into dangerous waters indeed, for she might ask him to clarify just what he’d meant by that.

  And Khalid would love to clarify.

  They stood in a busy foyer, yet it felt as if only they two were there. There was warmth in the air between them and there was an awareness too great to share with a stranger on a funeral type of afternoon.

  Khalid realised then that he had been wrong earlier about her wearing too much blusher, for colour now spread on her pale cheeks. He understood the effect was because of him. Or, rather, them. For though Khalid did not blush, of course, there was heat elsewhere. The effect of Aubrey on him had been unexpected, for she was not to his usual, sophisticated, taste.

  And, as they stood there, Aubrey found that she wanted to know the name of his scent, and to know how the silk of his suit felt to touch. And she wished now that he had snaked a hand around her waist, just to know brief physical contact with this imposing man. And for Aubr
ey, those feelings were so unfamiliar that suddenly she had to get away.

  He was simply too much.

  The whole day had been too much and the antibiotics had made her feel sick. She felt overwhelmed and, not so much dizzy, more that she just had to sit down, so she flicked her eyes from his gaze and thanked him again.

  ‘My pleasure.’

  Such a rare pleasure, Aubrey thought as she went and sat on one of the plush lobby chairs and tried to summon the energy for the journey home.

  Well, not home—her night would be spent at the airport. Aubrey was just wondering how long she could stretch out sitting here before being moved on when she saw his dark suited legs and even without looking up she just knew it was him.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

  ‘I will be.’ She nodded. ‘I just needed to sit down.’

  ‘Are you staying locally?’

  ‘No, I’m headed for the airport,’ Aubrey said, a little taken aback when he sat down on one of the plump seats beside her.

  ‘What time is your flight?’

  ‘Nine.’ She didn’t add that it was at nine a.m. tomorrow but she could see concern in his eyes. ‘I’m just a bit wiped.’

  ‘Perhaps because you haven’t eaten?’

  ‘I have, there was loads of food...’

  ‘No,’ Khalid said, surprising himself that he had noticed, but he had seen her decline the hors d’oeuvres each time the waiters had come around. ‘You didn’t eat anything.’

  ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘My stomach was in knots.’

  ‘Would you like me to have something brought to you...?’ He was about to raise his hand and summon someone, but she halted him.

  ‘Really, I’m fine, just a little tired—I’m getting over an ear infection and I flew through the night to get here.’

  Khalid lived a luxurious life, but did understand that not everyone travelled in the style that he did. She was, he guessed, more than a little tired. He watched as she managed to stand and he glanced at her shoes, which were slightly too large, and then up to her face, which was suddenly slightly too pale.

  ‘Well, it was nice meeting you,’ Aubrey said, and all Khalid knew was that he did not want her walking off, weary, hungry and sad.

  ‘Wait,’ Khalid said, and of course she swung around. And now he had to think of a reason for calling her back. ‘Aubrey, do you want to go for a lie down?’ He saw the flare in her clear blue eyes and immediately realised she had misinterpreted his words. He didn’t blame her, for even Khalid was having difficulty qualifying what he had just said.

  ‘Excuse me. What I meant was that my suite will be vacant for a couple of hours.’ She gave an owl-like blink of her huge blue eyes that forced Khalid to explain better. ‘I have to see the family back to the house, then stay for drinks and, no doubt, dissect who was who at the funeral...’

  ‘Such as me,’ Aubrey said, and for a second she thought she saw a flicker of a smile grace his lips, but then decided that she must have imagined it for that glimmer had gone.

  ‘I have already explained to them that you are with me.’ Khalid could not quite believe he had offered her the use of his suite. Even his lovers did not get freedom to roam like that. Yet she moved him in unexpected ways. ‘You are more than welcome to use my suite for a couple of hours before you go to the airport.’

  God, but a lie down sounded nice, Aubrey thought, and then remembered she hadn’t been born yesterday. ‘I don’t think—’

  But he interrupted her. ‘The choice is yours. I doubt I shall be back till late this evening, so there would be plenty of time for a sleep before you head off.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘My role today is to take care of Jobe’s friends and I believe you are one of them.’

  ‘But why would you trust me?’

  ‘Trust you?’ he checked.

  Aubrey saw his frown and wondered if she had used a word he did not comprehend. ‘I might trash the room, take off with your things,’ she explained further.

  But, no, Khalid knew very well what she’d meant. ‘Why would you do that, Aubrey?’

  He was so measured.

  And so very withheld.

  Aubrey didn’t even know what she meant by withheld, except that was the word that sprang to her mind.

  He did not jump to provocation.

  It was as if nothing could possibly faze him but, most importantly, he did not faze her. Oh, Khalid was overwhelming to her senses, and more male than any man she had ever met, but there was not so much as a flicker of fear making itself known. And while heading up to a stranger’s bed might seem less than wise, it certainly beat lying on the airport floor. As well as that, Aubrey had been born with a radar attached.

  It was how she survived.

  With Khalid there were no red flags waving and Jobe had clearly thought the world of him.

  There was something else, though—this man intrigued her. From the way he had stepped in and saved her from Chantelle’s inquisition. The way he had offered her food.

  And now rest.

  Aubrey didn’t trust men.

  As a little girl her mom had told her to put a chair against her bedroom door at night and as a not much older girl she had stood on a stool to get ice for her mom’s bruises from the freezer.

  Khalid, she was aware, brought down her defences, for she wanted to trust this man.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, and her voice was a little croaky and the flush was back to her cheeks as she graciously accepted his kind offer. ‘But only if you’re sure?’

  ‘Of course.’ He handed her a card for the suite and told her the floor. ‘If you’re gone when I get back—’ He was interrupted by the shrill call of his name.

  ‘Khalid!’

  ‘Yes, Chantelle.’

  And he gave Aubrey the tiniest eye-roll before he turned to the approaching woman; he shared with her his irritation.

  It was like being handed the sun.

  ‘We’re heading back to the house,’ Chantelle said. ‘Aubrey, I do hope you’ll come...’

  Best friends now, Aubrey thought, but Khalid swiftly dealt with the invitation.

  ‘Aubrey shall not be joining us. She has a headache.’ He met her eyes and instead of the sun offered her gold. ‘Rest now.’

  As simply as that, Aubrey escaped.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SHE TOOK THE elevator to the designated floor and then found the necessary door, and stepped into heaven.

  Through arch windows Central Park beckoned lush and green against a stunning blue sky, but it would have to wait for her inspection as she took in her surroundings.

  There were powder-blue velvet sofas arranged around a huge, ornate fireplace, and the ceilings were so high that, not for the first time in this city, Aubrey chose to look up and gaze at the chandelier that caught the late afternoon light. There were ornaments and a decanter filled with liquor as if someone lived here, rather than stayed for a night or two.

  Oh, she had heard of suites like this. Aunt Carmel had visited a penthouse suite once and still spoke about it as if it were yesterday. Yet she wasn’t here for the same reasons as Aunt Carmel had been, Aubrey thought as she looked around.

  Even the powder room was incredible, with gold-plated faucets, which Aubrey turned on for no reason other than the pleasure of washing her hands, then drying them on fluffy white towels.

  And Khalid had let her up here?

  Things like that just didn’t happen in her world.

  Aubrey wandered around, peering into his bedroom and seeing the huge king-size bed where Khalid had invited her to rest.

  It never dawned on her that there might be a guest room behind one of the many doors.

  Aubrey wandered in; yet more luxurious than her surroundings was a hit of the heady scent of him. The suite even had its own private terrace and Aubrey stepped out from the cool silence to the bustle and noise and wanted to wave to the traffic and people below.

  She stared right down
Fifth Avenue and she knew, from her mom, that Jobe lived on this very street.

  Had lived.

  Aubrey knew now she’d been right to come today to say goodbye to him properly.

  Jobe wasn’t the father she’d had never had, but he had been the closest thing to a father she’d known. And when he’d broken things off with her mom, he hadn’t simply walked away from her daughter.

  ‘Take this chance,’ he had said to Aubrey. ‘You’ve got talent, Aubrey. Don’t let history repeat itself...’

  It soon would.

  The bills were piling up, and Aubrey could only make so much from the trapeze. She was good but not brilliant like some of the girls, and she wasn’t skilled at anything else. Had she gone to music college, she might now be carving out a career, but even that felt like an impossible dream, because how could she ever leave her mom?

  Aubrey came in from the terrace, closing the French door and breathing in the relative silence as she slipped off her heels. There was a gold watch by the bed and she picked it up and felt its weight. It was a couple of years of wages and tips that she held in her hand, Aubrey guessed.

  Probably a whole lot more.

  She felt guilty for touching his things and put it down.

  Next to where she placed it was a thick wad of cash that caused her throat to tighten. Not just the cash but the diamond money clip that held it.

  Aubrey stood in his affluent world, in borrowed clothes, and wished she’d had the nerve to eat the plentiful food at the wake. She could ring for room service, Aubrey guessed, doubting he would even notice or care.

  Yet she cared.

  Aubrey didn’t want to abuse his hospitality. And so she took a piece of fruit from a lavish bowl and ate it instead, wondering if he’d mind if she took a shower.

  Stepping inside the stunning bathroom, Aubrey’s jaw dropped. It was incredible, with gorgeous mosaic floors and walls, a huge double shower and also a bath.

  There was a little card beside it, reminding the guest to ring #71 and their bath would be drawn.

  That made Aubrey smile. She did not call #71, but instead filled the bath herself, adding scented, fragrant oils to the water. It took ages to fill, but Aubrey had another apple and then, when it still wasn’t deep enough, she removed her make-up with the lovely cotton pads and make-up remover all provided by the hotel.