Barbara Dunlop - Millions To Spare

But his resolve had faltered. He simply couldn’t lie in bed fifty feet from her and not find his way to her side.

“Promised not to do what?” she asked.

He took in an opened horse magazine on the plaid couch and a steaming mug on the end table. It smelled like hot chocolate, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to hole up here with her for as long as she’d let him.

“Harrison?” she prompted, and he realized she was waiting for his answer.

“Pretend this is real,” he admitted, moving closer to her. “Pretend we can be together, and the world outside the two of us doesn’t exist.”

She tipped her head, keeping eye contact as he grew closer. “I’m afraid it does.”

He reached out and took her hands. “That’s why I told myself to stay away. That’s why I’m leaving tomorrow, putting an ocean between us.”

“You have to go back to Brittany.”

“I know I do,” he acknowledged. “Being my wife is a terrible job. But Brittany knows what she’s getting into. She can help me. She can support our kids.”

Harrison realized the person he was trying to convince was himself. Because, over the past few hours, he’d been starting to think the unthinkable. Keeping Julia.

She tugged her hands away, a trace of hurt in her voice as she turned away. “Unlike me?”

“Is that what you want?” he dared ask.

“I only wanted to get out of Dubai.” Her tone was stronger now. “The last time I checked, that’s the only thing I signed up for.”

Her words hit him like a sledgehammer. Somehow, he’d built it up in his mind as being something more, much more.

“Of course,” he answered her back.

How conceited did he have to be to assume Julia would want him in her life? His money and title meant nothing to her. She was grateful for his help. That was it.

“I guess this is goodbye,” he told her.

She nodded without turning around.

“I’ll be on the jet early tomorrow.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll send you…” He couldn’t bring himself to say divorce papers. “I’ll send you whatever we need,” he told her instead. “I’ll take care of it.”

Her voice was small. “Thank you.”

He wished she’d turn around. He wanted to see her face one more time. Hell, he wanted to see all of her one more time, and hold her in his arms, and inhale the soft scent of her hair, hear the laughter in her voice. But that was impossible.

“Goodbye,” she whispered.

“Goodbye,” he echoed, reaching for the door handle.

When Julia woke up the next morning, her heart ached, and her throat was sore from choking back tears.

Somebody was knocking on the cabin door. So she rolled out of the warm four-poster and slipped her feet into a pair of knit slippers. Still dressed in the T-shirt and sweatpants she’d borrowed from Melanie last night, she padded across the hardwood floor.

She didn’t know whether or not to hope it was Harrison. She thought she’d done a credible job last night, refraining from cracking in front of him, even though he’d broken her heart and then stomped it to dust. Better to leave things that way.

Still, the thought of seeing him again…

But it was Melanie. Dressed in jeans, boots and a red wool jacket, she carried two travel mugs and a basket of muffins.

“Breakfast?” she asked.

Julia nodded and tried to force the kinks out of her sore body. “What time is it?”

“Nearly noon.”

Julia couldn’t believe she’d slept that long.

Her glance found its way past Melanie to the cabin where Harrison had slept last night. She wished she’d had it in her to give him a final thank-you and a proper goodbye, but she’d been teetering close to the edge of her emotional control. She’d fallen hard for him, and it was going to take some time for her to heal.

Melanie strolled into the cabin, and Julia locked out the chill. She cranked up the heater then joined Melanie in the living room. After taking her coffee and one of the blueberry muffins, she settled into an armchair and draped a knitted throw across her lap.

“It was ninety-five in Dubai,” she reminded Melanie.

Melanie curled up in the corner of the couch with her own mug of coffee. “So, go ahead, give me the details.”

Julia wasn’t sure she could share much more. She couldn’t tell anyone the details of Muwaffaq’s death, or her marriage. Which meant she couldn’t let anyone see she was upset.

“Not much more to tell,” said Julia, struggling to keep her emotions at bay.

“Ha!” countered Melanie. “Let’s start with what’s up between you and Harrison.”

Julia tensed. Anything but that. “What do you mean?”

“I saw the way he looked at you.”

“We’ve been through a lot together. What with the police, and the bad guys.”

“It’s more than just that.” Melanie waggled her eyebrows. “He obviously has the hots for you.”

Julia steeled herself for her next words, hating that she couldn’t tell Melanie the truth, but needing to shut this conversation down. “He’s gone home to propose to another woman.”

Melanie’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure, it does. They’re childhood friends, from the same social class-”

“You’re not going to get all ‘you rich are different’ on me again, are you?”

“I confess,” said Julia honestly, “I’ve come to better appreciate the value of wealth over the past week.”

“Good,” said Melanie, taking a sip of her coffee. “That’s something then. Learn anything else while you were away?”

“That the desert is really, really hot, and it is amazingly easy to bribe the police.”

“Hence, your new appreciation for the value of money.”

“Harrison bribed a lot of people for me.”

“Chivalrous,” said Melanie with a touch of sarcasm.

“Under the circumstances,” said Julia, an edge to her voice, “it was.”

Melanie grinned triumphantly. “See that? You got all defensive over him. You have got to tell me what happened between you two.”

Julia took a breath. She was suddenly tired, tired of lying, tired of putting on a good front, tired of suppressing her emotions. “We had a fling.”

“Aha!”

“You have to keep it quiet.”

Melanie nodded eagerly. “I’ll absolutely keep it quiet.”

“It’s important to Harrison. He really is going to propose to somebody.” Julia swallowed. “Her name is Brittany.”

Melanie waved a dismissive hand. “Brittany, schmittany. What happened between the two of you?”

“I don’t know,” she said, pulling her muffin into two sections. Something about confessing to Melanie had improved her appetite. “Adrenaline?”

“They say it’s an aphrodisiac.”

“Well, it’s something. Or maybe Harrison is something. But whatever it was, it hit us like a ton of bricks at the oasis.” Raw memories threatened to swamp her.

“I’m glad it wasn’t all danger and intrigue.”

Julia forced herself to smile, but it was growing more difficult. “Then back at his palace-” She blinked her burning eyes. “Well, that was-”

Melanie came to her feet, a worried expression on her face. “Julia?”

Oh, no. Julia could feel her chest tightening. She clenched her jaw and fought the rising emotions. But all she could see was Harrison in the palace bedroom, comforting her after her nightmare, kissing her, holding her, making her feel as though an insane world would really be all right after all.

“Julia?” Melanie asked again. “What the hell happened over there?”

Julia looked up at her friend.

Melanie’s shoulders slumped. “You fell for him.”

Julia nodded miserably.

How, oh, how could she have let that happen?

“And he’s gone back to propose to another woman?”

“Yes,” Julia squeaked out. “She’s a lovely woman. She has a title, and she looks like a movie star. And she’s nice.” A couple of tears escaped, and Julia swiped them away. “She’s genuinely nice. I don’t blame him for wanting her.”

“Do you want to go after him?” asked Melanie.

“No!” Julia frantically shook her head. “That would be a disaster.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I do. He’s a baron. He actually has the title ‘The Honorable’ in front of his name.”

“So what?”

“So what?”

“Yeah.” Melanie nodded.

“You don’t know what he said to me last night.”

Melanie waited.

“He said being his wife was a really hard job, and Brittany knew how to do it. She could help both him and their children.”

Melanie sat back down. “Oh.”

“So, you see. He’s gone back to his own world, and I can’t go after him.”

Melanie didn’t seem convinced. “Are you sure he didn’t mean-”

“It was pretty clear what he meant.”

Melanie slumped back on the couch. “What can I do to help?”

Julia gave a watery smile. “Thanks for listening.”

“There’s got to be more than that.”

“There isn’t. But thanks.” Julia set the muffin aside. “I think I’ll head home now. I hope you get Leopold’s Legacy figured out soon.”

“This sucks,” said Melanie.

“Life does sometimes,” said Julia, trying desperately to be tough and pragmatic. “But at least I’m not in a jail cell.”

She’d cling to that reality. Even if Harrison hadn’t fallen in love with her, he got her out of jail in Dubai, and he saved her life. She’d always be grateful for that.

Harrison spent most of the trip across the Atlantic telling himself to buck up and be a man about it.

Sure, he’d missed Julia last night. But it was obvious she was ready to walk away, and he’d had no choice but to respect her wishes. Although every minute took him farther away from her, he tried to remind himself he was also heading toward something else, a course of action that would ultimately make the most sense.

But, by the time they crossed the Azores, he knew he had to stop in London. He also knew he had to tell both Brittany and his grandmother the engagement wasn’t going to happen. He’d betrayed Brittany in the most fundamental way a man could betray a woman. It wasn’t that he’d slept with Julia. Problem was, he’d fallen in love with Julia.

He’d asked his pilot to refile the flight plan, and now they were easing onto the runaway at Heathrow.

He’d also forced himself to go over a backlog of business e-mails, composing answers while they were in the air. Once the jet was taxiing at Heathrow, he hooked up his connection and sent everything off.

There was some good news on the pipeline front. France and Turkmenistan were ready to start formal talks. Harrison would have to be in Paris for that at the end of the month. He’d also contacted a top-notch, international private investigative firm. They’d get started on the investigation around Millions to Spare’s death immediately and, hopefully, have some information for the Prestons soon.

His jet stopped at the private boarding gates, and he headed down the gangway into a blustery fall evening in London. There was a limo waiting for him, and he made a few calls while half watching a news station on his way to Brittany’s family home near Hyde Park.

“We’ve arrived, sir,” the limo driver informed him as the car came to a halt.

One of the Livingstons’ footmen quickly opened Harrison’s door, and Harrison thanked him as he got out.

Another staff member greeted him on the lighted, stone porch and offered to announced him to Brittany. The Livingstons had always lived on the formal side, even for the aristocracy, and Harrison couldn’t help but contrast their lifestyle to the cozy little cabin where he’d spoken with Julia just last night.

Brittany appeared almost immediately in the marble and gilded entry hall.

“Harrison.” She smiled politely, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “How good of you to stop by.”

Again, Harrison’s brain brought up a contrast to Julia. If he’d arrived unannounced on her doorstep at nine in the evening, she’d probably ask him what the heck he wanted.

“Shall we go into the parlor?” Brittany offered.

“I came to apologize,” said Harrison as he fell into step with her. “I’m sorry I had to leave so suddenly.”

They crossed through a set of double doors to a dark paneled room with French provincial furniture, heavy oil paintings and ornate, antique crystal chandeliers.

Brittany gestured to a burgundy upholstered chair. “I understand completely,” she told him.

He waited for her to sit down in the opposite chair before taking his own seat.

A butler arrived.

“Would you care for a cocktail?” asked Brittany. “Or perhaps some tea?”

“Tea would be nice,” said Harrison. “I’m time zone challenged at the moment.”

“Of course.” She nodded to the butler, who exited the room.

Immediately a trio of maids appeared, setting out cups and spoons, sugar, cream, honey and lemon. Then another maid arrived with a tray of sweets, and yet another with a pot of tea.