Rogue (21 page)

He was skiing peacefully with Arabella one afternoon, and he had to admit, it was nice to get away from the children. They stopped several times to catch their breath on the harder runs, and he leaned over and kissed her. And they went back to the house that afternoon to make love. Arabella confessed that she could hardly wait till they got back to London, although she was glad to have met his children. But a little went a long way, and she felt as though she was constantly organizing things for them to do. It was also obvious that she and Daphne would never be friends. The best she could hope for was an uneasy truce, which was what she had gotten so far. It was still a vast improvement over Daphne's behavior in the beginning. But Blake didn't envy his ex-wife if this was what she had to deal with whenever her current boyfriend was around. He was amazed the guy put up with it. He suspected Arabella wouldn't have for long, if Daphne hadn't finally backed off.

For the first time ever, he was relieved to take them back to Maxine in New York. She had driven down from Vermont that day, and had just gotten home when Blake dropped them off at the apartment. Arabella was waiting for him at the penthouse, and they were leaving for London that night.

Sam immediately threw his arms around his mother with a shout of delight and almost knocked her down. And Jack and Daphne looked happy to be home too.

“How was it?” she asked Blake with a relaxed look. She could see in his eyes that it had been less than perfect, and he waited until Daphne left the room before he answered.

“Not as easy as it used to be,” he said with a rueful grin. “Watch out for Daff, Max, or you'll wind up an old maid.” She laughed at the warning. It was the least of her worries, and she'd had a great time with Charles in Vermont. She had come back relaxed and happy, and closer to him than she had been to anyone in years. In many ways, they were so much alike, they were a perfect match. Their medical careers meshed perfectly, they were both meticulous, neat, and organized. With no one else around, it was perfect. The challenge was going to be to see what happened when they were all home again.

“Did she ease up at all?” Maxine inquired about their daughter. And Blake shook his head.

“Not really. She stopped making the overtly outrageous comments she had in the beginning, but she managed to make Arabella's life miserable in every other subtle way. I'm surprised she stayed.”

“I take it she doesn't have kids of her own. That always helps,” Maxine said, and he shook his head.

“She'll probably have her tubes tied after this. I wouldn't blame her. But that works for me too,” he said, laughing, and Maxine groaned in sympathy.

“Poor woman. I don't know what we can do. Thirteen-year-old girls are famous for this kind of behavior. It's going to get worse before it gets better.”

“Call me when she gets out of college,” Blake said, as he got ready to leave. He stopped in the kids' rooms to see all of them, kissed them goodbye, and then lingered at the door for a minute with Maxine.

“Take care of yourself, Max. I hope this guy is good to you. If he isn't, tell him he'll have to deal with me.”

“Say that to Arabella too,” she said, hugging him, sorry that Daphne had given them such a hard time on the vacation. “Where are you going now?”

“London for a few weeks, then Marrakech. I want to get the work on the house started. It's not really a house, it's more of a palace. You have to come over and see it sometime.” But she didn't know when that would be. “I'll probably be in St. Bart's by the end of January. I'll pick up the boat there and float around for a while.” She knew the story. The kids probably wouldn't see him for a long time. More than likely not until their summer vacation. They were used to it, but it still made her sad for them. They needed to see more of Blake than they did. “I'll stay in touch.” Sometimes he did, and sometimes he didn't, but she knew where to look for him, if she had to.

“Take care of yourself,” she said, hugging him at the elevator.

“You too,” he said, hugged her back, and was gone. It was always a strange feeling for her when she said goodbye to him. It made her wonder at times what life would have been like if they'd stayed married. He would have been gone all the time, just as he was now. It just wasn't enough for her, to have a husband in name only. What she needed was what she had finally found, a man like Charles, who would stick around. He was the ultimate grown-up.

Chapter 13

When Blake and Arabella got back to London, they both had a
lot to do. He had meetings, and two houses to work on, and she had a portrait to do. It was a full two weeks before they could get out of town. And when they did, Blake was relieved. It was freezing in London, and he was tired of winter. Aspen and New York had been cold too, although at least in Aspen he could ski. But he was anxious to get to Morocco. Arabella had never been, and he couldn't wait to share it with her. She was as excited as he was the day they left. They were going to stay at the La Mamounia, and he was taking his architect with him. He already had blueprints for the house, and they looked fabulous to him. The project was going to take at least a year, which was fine with Blake. The best part was the planning, and the excitement of watching it take shape. And with Arabella's artistic sense, it was going to be fun sharing it with her. They chatted excitedly about it for the whole trip. And she was struck by the beauty of the place the moment they landed. They arrived at sunset, with a soft glow over the Atlas Mountains as they flew in.

A car was waiting to take them to the hotel and Arabella was dazzled as they drove through the city. The impressive Koutoubia Minaret was the first sign of Marrakech that caught her eye, and they drove through the central plaza, Jemaa el Fna, at twilight. It looked like the stage set for a movie. Even in her travels through India, she had rarely seen anything as exotic, there were snake charmers, dancers, acrobats, vendors selling things to drink, mules being led by their owners, men in long robes everywhere. It was straight out of
1001 Arabian Nights.
Blake was telling her that he wanted to take her to the souks, particularly the Souk el Zarbia, Medina, the walled city, and the Menara Gardens, which he said was the most romantic place in the world. There was a heady atmosphere all around them, and as she lowered the tinted windows to see better, the aroma of spices, flowers, people, and animals mingled to create an impression that had an aura all its own. The traffic around them was insane. There were mopeds and motorcycles darting among the cars, the traffic was crazy and disorganized, as horns sounded, people shouted, and street musicians added to the cacophony of sounds. Arabella turned to Blake with a wide, happy smile and her eyes dancing. It was even better than India for her, because she was sharing it with him.

“I
love
this!” she said excitedly, as he beamed at her. And he couldn't wait to show her his palace. He thought Marrakech was the most romantic place he'd ever been, and Arabella agreed. In spite of her travels in India, she loved this even more. Arabella came to life in exotic places in ways Blake had never seen her before.

They drove through the gigantic palm trees bordering the driveway, as they approached the peach-colored stucco of La Mamounia Hotel. Arabella had heard about it for years, and had always wanted to come here, and doing so with Blake was the best of all possible worlds. Men in white Moroccan outfits with red sashes greeted them, as Arabella noticed the carved wood and mosaic designs outside the hotel, and the manager appeared. Blake had already stayed there several times since buying the ancient palace, and had reserved one of the hotel's three luxurious private villas, which he was keeping until the remodeling and decoration would be complete.

Just to show Arabella, they walked into the main lobby where they stood on white marble floors, bordered in black marble, beneath a huge elaborate chandelier. They had entered the lobby through multicolored stained-glass doors, in red, yellow, and blue, as a bevy of men in white pajamas, gray vests, and red hats surrounded them and greeted Arabella and Blake. There were five luxurious restaurants and five bars for the guests' convenience, Turkish baths, and every possible amenity. And when the manager took them to Blake's private villa, a staff of servants were waiting for them there. The villa had three bedrooms, a living room, a dining area, a small kitchen for their use, and a separate full kitchen for a chef to prepare their meals, if they didn't wish to dine in the city or any of the hotel's restaurants. They had their own entrance, garden, and Jacuzzi, so if they didn't want to see anyone during their stay there, that was possible too. But Arabella was anxious to see the city with him. Blake had asked his driver to wait for them, and he and Arabella wanted to go out and explore, after they had a quiet meal in their garden. It was magical and exotic just being there.

They both showered and changed, and ate a light meal at the table in the garden, and then went out together hand in hand. They walked through the main square, kept their distance from the snake charmers, and took a carriage ride around the ramparts of the city. It was everything Arabella hoped it would be, and after sitting in the Jacuzzi in their private garden, and inhaling the heady fragrance of the flowers, they retired to their bedroom and made love for hours. It was nearly dawn when they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, their staff at the villa prepared an enormous breakfast for them. Blake showed her his plans for the palace he was rebuilding, and after breakfast they drove out to see it. It was even more fabulous than she expected. It had turrets and arches, and an enormous inner courtyard with beautiful old mosaics inset into the walls, and the rooms of the house were huge. It truly was a palace, and Blake's eyes danced as he walked through it with the architect and Arabella. She made some terrific suggestions for paint colors and the decor. And suddenly as he walked around, he knew he wanted to share it with her. He pulled her into his arms on a balcony overlooking the Atlas Mountains, and kissed her with the passion that had characterized their relationship from the first.

“I want this to be our love nest. It will be perfect for us. You can paint here.” He could see himself spending months there once it was finished. It was a perfect little town, with the restaurants, the bazaars with their exotic wares, and the beauty of nature beyond them. And there was a lively social life as well. Arabella had several French friends who had moved to Marrakech, and she and Blake had dinner with them before they left. It had been a terrific trip.

They dropped the architect off in London, and then flew to the Azores, and from there to St. Bart's. Arabella loved his house there, and a week later they took off on his boat. It was the largest sailboat she had ever seen, and they headed for the Grenadine Islands, just north of Venezuela. She had had to reorganize all her portrait sitting sessions to be with him, and travel with him, but it was worth it. She lay naked on the sun deck with him, as they glided quietly through the transparent green waters. It was February by then, and they both agreed it was the perfect life. It was snowing everywhere else in the world but eternal summer for them. Best of all, it was the summer of their love.

Maxine was walking through snowdrifts then on the way to her office, and she was busier than ever. She'd had a number of new referrals, and a rash of school shootings around the country had her flying to several cities to consult with teams of psychiatrists and local authorities about how to deal with the children who'd been involved.

In her personal life, things were going well with Charles. The winter was flying by. And even Daphne was settling down. She and Charles might never be best friends, but she had stopped making overtly rude comments about him, and once in a while she even let her guard down when he was around, and they had a good laugh. He was making a superhuman effort with her kids. It was easiest for him with Jack and Sam, and he had taken both of them to several basketball games. Daphne was too busy with her own social life to join them, although he always invited her as well.

Maxine was extremely careful not to let them know that she and Charles were sleeping with each other. He never stayed at the apartment, except when all the kids were staying with friends. She tried to stay at his apartment once or twice a week, but she always came home before the children got up to go to school. It made for short nights for them, and very little sleep for her, but she thought it was important to do that. And once in a while, they went away for a weekend. It was the best they could do.

They had been dating for two and a half months on Valentine's Day, and Charles had made a reservation at La Grenouille. It was their favorite restaurant for dinner, and he called it their cafeteria and took her there at least once a week. He was a regular at their family dinners now on Sunday night, and he even cooked for them now and then.

Maxine was touched when she got two dozen red roses from him at the office on Valentine's Day. The note said simply “I love you. C.” He was a very sweet man. Her secretary brought them in with a big smile. She liked Charles too. And Maxine wore a new red dress for dinner with him that night. He told her she looked great when he picked her up, and Sam made a face when Charles kissed her when he arrived, but they were used to it by now.

It was a perfect evening, and Charles came upstairs afterward. She poured him a glass of brandy, and they sat in the living room, as they often did, talking about what was going on in their lives. He was fascinated by her work, and after the recent school shootings, she was scheduled to speak to Congress again. This time he was going to come. He told her he was proud of her, and then he reached up and took her hand. The children were all sound asleep.

“I love you, Maxine,” he said gently, and she smiled at him. She had finally broken through that barrier herself, particularly once she felt that he was making a real effort with her kids.

“I love you too, Charles. Thank you for a lovely Valentine's Day.” She hadn't had one like that in years. Their relationship worked perfectly for her. Not too much, not too little, he didn't monopolize her time, and she could count on seeing him several times a week. And she still had plenty of time for her work and her children. It was exactly what she wanted.