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‘Yes, please.’
‘Ask the hotel to organise a driver to take you wherever you want to go.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Take my number with you.’
She did.
She bought some white jeans and a top and some sandals from the boutique in the foyer, along with a handbag, and she was ready for her day of adventure.
Layla was worried that she might run into Trinity or Zahid, but at the same time she was determined that even if she did she would very simply refuse to return until her week was up.
She did not use the phone to organise a driver. Instead she decided to try taking a taxi again.
It was far easier the second time around, and she put on her seatbelt and understood that at the end she had to pay him.
Everything on her list Layla did.
She stood on the top of the bridge, being battered by the wind, and life felt so exhilarating that it was as if she were on the top of the world. Then she took a ferry to Manly and ordered a burger with ‘the lot’ and a can of lemonade, and she met some Dutch backpackers who were very serious but very lovely. They told her that she had to do the night-time harbour cruise while she was there.
‘I don’t know where to go,’ she said.
‘We’ll show you.’
The cruise started long after sunset and went on for three magical hours. It was wonderful to see the Sydney skyline from the water at night. She could see the Opera House and the bridge all lit up. There was wine and a meal, though the prawns were not as nice as the ones she had had with Mikael, but she heard all the history—about Captain Cook and the convicts—and it was simply magical to sit with her new friends and listen, and feel the warm air on her skin.
She took a taxi back to the hotel, elated from a wonderful day out, tired and ready to have a bath and sleep. But as she opened her hotel door she jumped in surprise to see Mikael—and it was a Mikael that she had never seen before.
His face was grey and he did not return her smile when she walked in.
‘Layla…’ He was struggling to keep his voice even. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Doing the things on my list.’ Layla smiled. ‘I had a fantastic day.’’
‘It’s after midnight.’
‘I did a cruise…’
‘And you didn’t think to call me?’
‘Call you?’ She frowned. ‘You said to only call you in emergencies.’
Mikael had had a day like no other. The moment he had got to work he had changed his mind and called the room, only to find that she had already left.
He had got through his work as best he could but had then cleared his desk for the rest of the week, berating himself for leaving her alone.
It had been a very, very long night, and now there she stood, her hair whipped by the wind, her cheeks pink from too much sun. He pulled out his phone and fired a rapid text as, unknown to Layla, he had each night she’d been there—though never as late as it was this time.
Just to let you know, Layla is fine.
‘Who are you texting at this time of night?’
‘Your brother,’ Mikael said. ‘As I have every night.’
‘Why would you do that?’ she demanded.
‘Because he cares about you, Layla.’ Mikael was having great trouble not shouting. ‘Because he must feel sick wondering just how the hell you are and whether or not you are safe, and a text—one bloody text—must surely help, just as one bloody phone call might have…’
He stopped himself. The relief he had felt as she’d walked through the door had flicked to anger and he was not used to it, for he had never really cared enough about another person, or been scared for them before.
‘You have no idea the trouble you will have caused for me!’ Layla roared. ‘My brother will be furious that I am with a man this late at night.’
‘Well, you should have thought of that,’ he said. ‘Did it never enter your head that I might be worried?’
It truly hadn’t, and her eyes told him the same—which only incensed him even further. ‘You, Layla, are the most selfish person I have ever met.’
‘Selfish?’ she shouted. ‘How dare you call me selfish? I bought you a snowglobe.’ She went to get it out of her bag, except Mikael was picking up his keys. ‘Where are you going?’
‘You’ve got a nerve to ask.’
‘Mikael…’
He didn’t answer. Instead he left, and she stood in the lovely suite alone.
She looked out to the dark sky and waited for him to come back.
And waited.
‘Where are you Mikael?’ she said to the streets below the hotel.
She loathed it. And she was starting to understand—because she wasn’t scared for him, she just missed him, and she didn’t like the row that had taken place. She was cross, too, for him texting Zahid—and yet she was starting to glimpse why he had.
Mikael was angry for about another twelve minutes and then he pulled his car over and sat on the edge of the road. The fear that had clutched him all day didn’t come close to the fear he felt as he looked at the clock on his dashboard and saw the time and the date: it dawned on him they were at the halfway mark before Layla returned to her family.
He sat there for a long time, because it took a very long time for him to process it. He had never known love nor loved anyone before.
He had cared for others—sometimes a little, sometimes a lot—but he had never actually known love, and now here it was.
He didn’t want to get closer to her—there was no point, because very soon she would be gone.
When she called he didn’t pounce; he did not want to feel the way he did. But he answered his phone on the third ring.
‘I know it is wrong to call you so late…’
Layla gulped and he closed his eyes, for he did not want to be moved by her distress, and yet his heart twisted as she continued.
‘But it is an emergency of my heart, Mikael. I can’t stop crying.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#udf5bcffa-daff-5220-88df-914fbf2b1eb6)
SUNRISE FOUND MIKAEL back in her bed, but wearing only hipsters this time, with Layla asleep by his side. He inhaled the traces of bergamot in her hair—it was fading.
Nothing had happened last night. Layla had been crying too much and it had taken for ever for her to go to sleep.
He didn’t love her, Mikael decided in the warm light of morning. Instead, he told himself, it was as Layla herself had once said—he was attracted to her, perhaps a bit infatuated.
His world operated much more easily when it was devoid of love.
He picked up the snowglobe she had given him as she stirred awake beside him and watched snow fall for the first time on the Opera House.
‘It doesn’t snow in Sydney,’ he said. ‘Not since 1836.’
‘It’s a global warming snowglobe,’ Layla said, curling into him, loving the feel of her leg sliding over his. ‘The weather is doing crazy things everywhere.’
He stared at the settling snowflakes, wishing that she did not make him smile so easily.
If he did love her, then it was a very pointless love.
‘What time are we leaving?’ she asked, and Mikael’s jaw gritted—because just to stop her crying he had suggested that today she check out of the hotel and they go to his home.
He’d rather hoped she might have forgotten his offer. Mikael’s home was his haven. He had needed to be there the other night just to get away from the case, and he did not like sharing it with anybody else.
It was either here or to his city apartment that he brought women.
‘I was just thinking about that,’ he said. ‘It’s probably not such a good idea. There are no clubs or anything—just beach.’ He’d hoped that Layla would decline, yet she seemed delighted with the idea.
‘I would love to go to your home,’ she said. ‘And even if there aren’t any nightclubs there shall still be dancing,’ She smiled. ‘Thank you!’
She felt calmer this morning. Last night had been horrible. After Mikael had stormed off she had realised just how selfish she had been—not just to Mikael. She was glad he was putting her brother’s mind at ease but so terribly worried too, because Zahid would demand to know why Mikael had been with her at those times.
He would sort all that out, Mikael had said.
She hadn’t believed him last night, but this morning she did. Because, warm and safe in his arms, she was sure that there was nothing he could not do.
‘Before I take you to my home I have to go and see Demyan,’ Mikael said. ‘His wife has just had a baby and I need to visit. While I am gone you can sort out your stuff, and then I will come back and you can check out.’
‘What present are you taking for the baby?’
‘A snowglobe?’
‘Mikael!’ Layla scolded. ‘That was my present to you. You have to keep it for ever. Though you do have to take a present for the baby,’ she said. ‘We can go shopping and choose one, and then I would love to meet your friends. We can go on the way to your house.’
He said nothing, but Layla was becoming literally too close to home for him.
* * *
Checking her out proved just as complex as checking her in.
A case was needed for the rather remarkable amount she had accumulated, and even the chef came to say farewell to her. Terrence carried the flowers that Mikael had bought her.
It was only as they drove off that it dawned on Layla that she wouldn’t ever stay there again, and as they passed the court she struggled to come to terms with the fact that the magical day she had spent watching Mikael was the only one she would ever have.
She had planned her getting here so hard, and had been so determined to have fun and to cram all she could into her one special week, but it had never occurred to her that it might kill her to say goodbye.
And that was just to the hotel staff.
It was starting to dawn just how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to the other.
For both of them.
They stopped at the very boutique Layla had escaped from and bought a cashmere blanket and some little clothes and waited as they were giftwrapped. Then they stopped at another boutique and bought a bikini and some beach dresses for Layla, before heading to Demyan and Alina’s very luxurious penthouse.
‘What is Demyan like?’ Layla asked as they took the elevator up.
Mikael just shrugged, not quite comfortable with the cosiness of it all.
‘Surely he’s not as talkative as you?’ she teased. ‘What about his wife?’
‘I have only met her a couple of times,’ Mikael said. ‘She seems more pleasant than the first wife, but the bar was not set very high.’
Back to cynical, Mikael told himself. It was safer that way.
‘This is Layla,’ Mikael introduced her.
Alina was sitting down, holding the baby, and Demyan looked as if he hadn’t shaved or slept since they’d last spoken. Mikael tried to ignore the slight start of surprise on Demyan’s face. He had never brought a woman to his friend’s home before.
‘Actually, this is Princess Layla, and she’s on the run.’
‘You said not to tell anyone,’ Layla scolded. ‘You said that I was not to use my title.’
‘Demyan and Alina are fine,’ Mikael said. ‘Congratulations!’ He gave Alina a brief kiss on the cheek and then peered at the baby. ‘She’s beautiful,’ he duly said.
‘It’s okay, Mikael.’ Alina smiled. ‘I’m not going to breastfeed in front of you.’
Mikael actually smiled at someone who wasn’t Layla. ‘Okay, I will have a seat, then!’
Despite his reluctance to bring her along with him, Layla made the whole visit so much easier for Mikael. She handed over their gift to Alina and oohed and ahhed over the baby while Mikael and Demyan walked over to the bar, where they chatted for a while as they shared a congratulatory drink, speaking in Russian.
‘She’s gorgeous!’ Demyan said. ‘You are good together.’
‘We are good together because she’s temporary,’ Mikael said.
‘So was Alina,’ Demyan said, and they shared a wry smile because Alina had started as Demyan’s temp.
‘Well, in this instance it really is temporary. Layla has to return to her family in a few days.’ Mikael shrugged as if it really didn’t matter. ‘I’ll probably be bored with her dramas by then.’
He very much hoped that he would be.
