Twice in a Lifetime (Carina) (6 page)

He closed the space between them. “It is not on my list. What do you say, Sarah? I know how it relaxes you. And it would be nice to see that face you make right before you come.” Her mind flashed back to all the times they had been together. They had only had sex the night before he left. But the two years leading up to that, they had been the most sexually active virgins in Scotland. Whenever they had a spare moment they were together, hours of exploring, learning, and loving. He taught her about her body and she did the same for him. She had had more orgasms with Liam than she had had with all her other partners put together, but she was hardly going to tell him that.

Her body remembered the way his mouth felt against her skin and responded as if it were happening now, his tongue hot and wet against the most sensitive parts of her. Years had passed but her desire had not changed. She opened her mouth to speak several times before a coherent sound came out. “No, thanks.” Her legs felt like jelly.

“I think that is the problem. You haven’t had a proper seeing-to in too long. Were Jonathan and Richard not up to the challenge? Could either of them make you scream?”

Her eyes widened. “What? How do you know the names of my ex boyfriends?”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear lobe as he spoke. His breath was hot against her neck. She shivered from the exquisite sensation of heat on her bare skin. She could not stop herself from thinking about the other places that would benefit from his expert touch.

“That is not an answer.”

Sarah straightened and pushed the thought as far back in the recesses of her mind as it would go. “I am serious. Did my granny tell you who I was dating? That is really messed up.” Sarah would be having a stern word with her when she got home.

“Still not going to answer? I will take that as a no.”

“I am not going to discuss my sex life with you!”

“Then you better leave, because we won’t just be talking about sex if you stay here much longer. I don’t remember you having a whole lot of will power. And I seem to have misplaced mine.”

Sarah’s gaze darted from Liam to the bed and back again. She had remarkable will power, just not where he was concerned, but she was not going to tell him that. “Goodnight, Liam.” She turned and made a dash for the door.

“Sarah,” he called after her. “I almost forgot to give you these.” He handed her a white paper bag.

Her eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“You said you needed them for your holiday.”

She opened the bag—SPF thirty-five sun block and a twelve- pack box of extra-large condoms. She closed the bag and rolled her eyes. “I won’t be needing these.” She handed the bag to him but then snatched it away when she remembered just how bright the sun was in Dubai. “Actually, I could use one of those things.”

“Might as well take the sun cream too—it gets pretty hot here. Wouldn’t want you to burn.” He winked at her as he shut the door to his room.

Two hours after he finally went to sleep, Liam’s alarm went off. For the first time ever, he considered phoning the office and not going in. But he had a conference call with a defence company at eight and then he had to go to the consulate to arrange a visa for Sam. The bile rose in the back of his throat when he thought about all the energy he was putting into his once best friend. Sam was such a fuck-up, he had thrown his entire life away and he was doing his damnedest to make sure Sarah didn’t fare much better.

Why did she always get sucked into everyone’s drama? She was a one-woman crusade. She was as addicted to rescuing people as Sam was to heroin. If there was a more frustrating woman on Earth, he prayed he never met her. But at least Sam would not be a battle she would be fighting, for at least the next twelve months. Liam was under no illusion that Sam would come out a better man, or even come out clean, but it would give Sarah twelve months where she wasn’t wiping Sam’s nose like the giant fucking toddler he was. The only potential stumbling block was securing the visa. Immigration officials were obstreperous at the best of times. America wasn’t exactly going to welcome Sam into the country with open arms. It was going to take more palm greasing and arm twisting than he first thought but Liam would get there in the end; he always did.

He took a quick shower and towelled off before realising his clean shirts and underwear were in his bedroom where Sarah was sleeping. He paused at her door. He took a deep breath and filled his lungs to capacity. No doubt about it, she was Liam’s addiction. She had proved as much last night. He should have left Sam to rot, but he couldn’t because of her. When he looked at it logically it made no sense. She frustrated and infuriated him in equal measure. She wasn’t even the prettiest woman he had been with, but she was the only one he could honestly say he craved. He just had to look at her, with her flushed cheeks, and he was ready to throw her down on the bed and make up for lost time. Ten years later and making her blush was still his favourite pastime; well, second—having sex with her was his first. But he wouldn’t because, unlike Sam, he had will power. And sleeping with Sarah wasn’t an option. He wasn’t going to screw her and then show her the door, and that would be the only possible outcome, because she was even more messed up than he remembered. There were probably fifty other Sams waiting for her in Edinburgh, needing to be saved, wanting to be fixed. And she loved it, being the one who took care of the world. She would not be able to function without broken people. But Liam did not need her, so he was not going to sleep with her. But he would flirt with her until her cheeks were redder than a baboon’s arse, because a man had to have his fun.

He knocked on the door. When she did not answer he opened it slowly so as not to wake her. The white covers were pushed down below her waist. She was on her front so all he could see was a cascade of honey-blonde hair and the side of her breast. God, she had nice breasts. She had nice everything. He glanced down further at the curve of her ass, perfect for holding onto. He shook his head. If there was going to be no sex this week, there was going to be a hell of a lot of masturbation. He checked his watch to see if he had time for another shower. Was there enough water in the desert?

Sarah woke up after ten. It was the longest she had slept in since university. It was seven in Edinburgh, which meant her grandmother would be being prepped for surgery. Hip replacements were routine enough but Sarah would still feel better once it was done and dusted. She comforted herself in the fact that Leslie would call her if anything went wrong. She put Liam’s robe on and went to scavenge for breakfast. She might have to order in because the OJ Liam had in the fridge was not going to cut it. She had decided not to worry about how much things cost; she would deal with it when she got home. This week was going to be a moratorium on worrying, except for Sam, and her granny, but that was it—everything else could wait until she got home.

On the couch, her clothes were laid out, washed and folded. On the table there was a silver tray with a note.

Turns out they do sell Irn-Bru – Liam

She smiled as she opened the lid and the compressed air whooshed out. On the tray was a baked potato with cheese and broccoli. He remembered. Sarah hated breakfast food. She did not see the point of eating cereal and coffee in the morning just because everyone else did.

She ate breakfast and contemplated getting dressed. She had no desire to put on jeans and a jumper. Which left her two choices: she could take scissors to her clothes or she could go shopping. Before she could calculate which would be cheaper in the long run, she remembered her resolution to not worry about money for the next six days.

Shopping it was!

In the meantime she would have to make do with her jeans but there was no danger of her putting on a sweater in this heat. She went to Liam’s closet and picked the least masculine top she could find, a purple pinstripe shirt. She buttoned it halfway down and then tied the end together at her waist before rolling up the sleeves to the elbow. She glanced at herself in the mirror; it would do.

She picked up her phone and searched for shopping malls in Dubai. She clicked on the first one and jotted down the name and address and then she searched public transportation but had less luck. She found listings for loads of taxi companies, even a women’s only taxi company, but she could not find a bus service. She was loath to take a taxi, even if she wasn’t going to worry about money; she wasn’t going to waste it. She was Scottish after all.

“Darn it,” she said before she gave up and dialled Liam’s number. God only knew if he would pick up. He never had before, but that was OK—Sarah was sure that Office Barbie could point her in the right direction for the local bus service.

“Morning, Sarah,” Liam’s deep baritone answered on the first ring.

“Oh, hi,” she said, caught off guard. She’d thought she was going to go through to the secretary. “Is there a bus that goes from here to the Mall of the Emirates?”

“Why would you take a bus?” He sounded truly appalled at the notion. “I will send my driver. He will take you wherever you want to go.”

“I don’t want your driver to take me. I want to take the bus.”

“Don’t be awkward, Sarah. Ahmed will be there in fifteen minutes. Wait for him in the lobby.”

“I will be on a bus in fifteen minutes so don’t waste his time. I want to people watch and get a lay of the land. You can’t do that in the back of a Rolls-Royce. No offence to Ahmed. I am sure he is a lovely chap. But I want to be a tourist today.”

She could hear him banging keys in the background. “You are not taking a bus.”

She had almost softened to the idea of splashing out on a taxi before he said that, but now she was determined to find a bus. “Bye, Liam. Sorry to bother you. I just found a listing for the bus company,” she lied as she put down the phone. She would take a bus all the way back to Scotland if she wanted.

She brushed her teeth and then made her way into the lobby and over to the concierge desk. “Good morning, Tariq,” she read his name badge.

“Good morning, madam. How can I help you?” His perfect English was punctuated with a slight Indian accent. She was quickly learning that most people in Dubai hailed from other places.

“I would like to take the bus to the Mall of the Emirates. Could you point me in the right direction? Also could you tell me where the nearest ATM is located?”

“The bus, madam?” he asked politely, though clearly sceptical. Did no one take the bus here?

“Yes, the bus.”

“There is a bus stop a few streets down but there is also a taxi rank outside.”

“Which bus do I take to get to the mall?”

He looked at her sheepishly. “I am not sure, madam. I can tell you how to get there on the metro. It is only ten stops.” He handed her a city map.

She nodded. A subway, even better—she had not even known Dubai had a subway. The underground was always good for people watching. “Perfect. Thank you.”

“Nice shirt,” a familiar deep voice said from behind her.

“Liam!” she squeaked as she spun around on her heel.

“Good morning, Mr McPherson,” Tariq said.

“Morning, Tariq.” Liam nodded. He slipped a hand behind her back and guided her away from the desk.

“I hope it is OK I borrowed your shirt. My jumper was too hot.”

“It’s fine. You fill it out quite nicely.” His gaze lowered to her breasts.

She took a deep breath and willed herself not to blush even though it was clear from the look in his eyes he was undressing her in his mind. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?”

“Because apparently we are going to the mall.”

“I don’t need your driver to take me to the mall.”

“Good, because I gave Ahmed the morning off.” He reached inside his suit pocket and produced a pair of sunglasses and handed them to her. “You spent all afternoon yesterday squinting,” he said by way of explanation.

She examined the designer shades. She had seen the same oversized style in a magazine last month and knew for a fact they cost more than her car payment. They were far too expensive for her to accept but she did need a pair of sunglasses. The brightness of the country was second only to the sun. “Um, thanks. Do you have lots of women’s accessories kicking about?” She tried to make a joke to cover the fact she was touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

“No, I sent Gemma out for them this morning.”

“Thank you. You realise Gemma has really expensive taste?”

His answer was a smile.

She needed to thank Office Barbie next time she saw her, and stop calling her Office Barbie. “I discovered Dubai has a metro,” she said, a bit more animated than she had intended.

“Tell me more,” Liam said with mock enthusiasm.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling. He was teasing her the way he always did. “Well, according to my new friend Tariq, it is only ten stops to the mall.”

“Brilliant. Why aren’t more people taking the metro?” He paused long enough for her to see two straight lines of white teeth. “Oh, that’s right, because they have cars.”

“Well, this person doesn’t have a car. So I am taking the metro to the mall. In the spirit of our new-found friendship, I am going to have to be honest: I don’t think the prospect of shopping has ever excited me more. The mall has the world’s largest Cheesecake Factory. It is like they knew I was coming.”

Liam couldn’t help smiling. The only thing that rivalled Sarah’s blushing was her unbridled enthusiasm for the smallest things. He had once seen her jump up and down because he had got an A on his English A Level. “Did your new friend Tariq tell you about that too?”

“No, I read about it on the Internet. You don’t have to walk me to the tube station. I can find it.” She waved the map as proof.

“I am not going to leave you to fend for yourself in a foreign country.”

He expected her to say he had left her before to fend for herself but she didn’t. Instead she said, “I am perfectly capable of taking the metro to the mall. I have your number. I will call if I need anything.”

“Do you even have any dirham on you?” he asked.

“No. But I have a bank card with an overdraft, and I am not afraid to use it.”

He couldn’t imagine still being reliant on an overdraft; no one as educated as Sarah should. She should have a proper job, worthy of her qualifications.

He followed her onto the busy street. They were the only pedestrians. Everyone else had the good sense to be in an air-conditioned car. She studied the map for a few minutes and then began walking. He let her lead the way until it was obvious she had no idea where the metro station was located. “It is over here, Sarah.” He pointed to the other side of the street.

“Really? Are you sure? Because according to the map—”

“I’m positive.” He turned his head so she could not see him smiling. She still didn’t know left from right. She could conjugate verbs in Latin and differentiate an equation faster than anyone he knew, but she still could not remember her left hand made an L when she held it up. It was just one of the many quirks he had loved about her.

He led her down the stairs and into the electric-blue-lit underground.

“Wow,” she said as she looked around the pristine building. “Where are the homeless people and the buskers and the graffiti?”

“Not in Dubai.”

She slowly turned around three hundred and sixty degrees. “I am going to have to take a picture. No one back home will believe how clean it is. Look, Liam,” she whispered, pointing to a cleaner. “She is using a feather duster to clean the chandelier. They have a chandelier in the tube station!” Sarah took out her phone and started snapping pictures. “Here, I need one of you too.” She snapped a picture before he had a chance to think about smiling. “The ladies in the office will appreciate the eye candy. I hope you don’t mind being objectified.”

“No, objectify away,” he said.

“Well, in that case, when we get back I’m going to need to take a picture of you hoovering topless for my friend Leslie.”

“Why?” he couldn’t resist asking.

“Come on, a hot man doing housework. It doesn’t get any better than that. It is like lady porn. You can have your
Maxim
and page three, just give me a strong man, doing the washing-up.”

“I thought you said the picture was for Leslie.”

A pink cast crept up her neck and settled on her cheeks. “All right, I might be keeping a copy for myself.”

For the next ten stops, Sarah did not speak. She studied the people on the carriage and took pictures of the building once the train was overland. “It is like a clean version of New York,” she said eventually.

“Have you been to New York?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I presented a paper there on harm reduction a few years ago. Did my granny not mention that? That surprises me—she told everyone else on her stair. I am sure they are sick of hearing her go on about me.”

“Nope, it didn’t come up. I lived in New York for a year after I graduated.”

“I know,” she said.

“How?” It was his turn to question.