As expected, our evening started in bed before we dragged ourselves out to enjoy the meal that Omar has provided. I say provided because it’s obviously been prepared by a professional and was left in the oven until we had worked up a considerable appetite.
As we take our seats at the romantic table, he fills my glass with the most seductive red wine and raises a toast.
“To us.”
“To us.” I echo his words as I prepare to sample what smells divine while congratulating myself on my extremely good fortune.
“You say you’re here for a week.”
“I am.” He nods as he pushes a forkful of food into his mouth and chews slowly, making my toes curl at the gleam in his eyes. I am fast realising that Omar was created from my lustful dreams because if I could have drawn a blueprint of my perfect man, it’s him. I’m readying myself for the catch though and maintain an aloofness I need to hang onto.
“I would like us to spend it together.”
He smiles and I nod happily. “I would love that, but I have to work, I’m afraid.”
“What do you do?”
“Real estate. I run a company that sells to businesses mainly. I work out of the Richmond office, but it takes me all over London.”
“You have a good career.”
“It is, although…”
I’m unsure whether to tell him of my plans and my voice trails off, causing him to raise his eyes. “Although what?”
“I’ve had an offer I’m thinking of accepting.”
“Which is?”
“To move to Dubai, actually,” He raises his eyes and I grin.
“One of the friends I went with is moving her business there and said I should do the same. Search for a job selling property over there or set up on my own.”
“That sounds interesting.”
He sips his wine, looking thoughtful and I nod with a little more enthusiasm. “The trouble is, it’s come at a tricky time.”
“Why?”
I’m in two minds whether to say anything or not because Omar is still a stranger and doesn’t know my situation, so I decide to share the burden a little and say sadly, “I made a bad investment and now my home is at risk. My friend said I should rent it out and go to Dubai to help pay off the mortgage and when I come back to England, I will still have an asset.”
“She’s a wise friend.”
Omar runs his finger around the rim of his glass thoughtfully and then says in his deep, sexy voice.
“What was the investment?”
“One of the friends I was with is married to a financial guy. Stocks and shares, you know the type.”
He raises his eyes, which causes me to giggle because he doesn’t just know the type, he is the type.
It encourages me to offload my problem onto him because he may be able to help, and I say with a sigh. “He told me it was a sure-fire investment. Buy when they are low and sell when they are high. He assured me we were in at the beginning and when we sold, we could triple our investment.”
“And you believed him.” Omar shakes his head, which doesn’t make me feel any better, and I nod. “We grew up together. He’s married to one of my closest friends. Why wouldn’t I believe him?”
I’m a little defensive, probably because I was so foolish, and Omar nods as if he understands.
“So, tell me what happened?”
“It was a property investment in a plot overseas. Italy actually. It was planned to be a development with two hotels and apartments, shops, and bars. It was huge, and the land was cheap.”
I take a swig of my wine and say sadly, “Then the diggers unearthed something of historical significance and the site was shut down – permanently. The development crashed, and any money invested is being used to pay off any debts owed.”
“What is the name of this development?”
Omar’s eyes have narrowed to dangerous slits, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“Hades.”
He raises his eyes. “More like hell.”
I nod miserably. “I’ve lost everything, and I feel like such a failure.”
To my surprise, he reaches across the table and entwines his fingers with mine.
“Look at me, Ginny.”
I raise my eyes to his and witness the flashing anger of a man who surprises me more every time I see him, and he growls, “I will deal with this for you.”
“How?” I’m astonished and he says with determination.
“It’s what I do. What I’m good at and many of my contacts can find the information we need.”
“We?”
My heart leaps at his choice of words and he smiles.
“We, Ginny. We are together for as long as you say we are.”
“I don’t understand.”
It’s all happening so quickly, and Omar raises my hand to his lips and kisses it gallantly before saying huskily, “Nobody likes to be alone, my angel. We may find ourselves in that position, but it’s wrong. I have never married, choosing to marry my career, I suppose. I’ve dated many women who don’t understand my needs.”
Now I’m afraid and say with a catch to my voice. “Needs?”
“Freedom.”
He stares into my eyes and says firmly, “I work. It’s the most important thing in my life and my private life comes second. I don’t want a family and never have. Over the years, the women I met have told me they are fine with that, but after a while, they grow unhappy when they want more than what I am willing to give. We are not young anymore. We are past the age of having a family and now I have made millions I want to share them with someone. But not my freedom.”
“What are you saying?” I am genuinely confused, and he rubs his thumb on the back of my hand and stares deep into my eyes.
“I want someone to be there when I am available and, in return, I will be loyal. I never cheat and I expect the same from my partner. We don’t live together, and we don’t have friends. There will be no attending family gatherings and when we are together, there will be no distractions.”
“That sounds…cold.”
I’m shocked to say that out loud because surely that sounds like my ideal relationship, and he shrugs. “That is why I am alone and searching for a similar free spirit. Someone who shares their life with me when I’m in town, whenever that will be. Occasionally, we will travel together on holidays, business trips and extended breaks. Then we return to our own lives until we meet again with no recriminations and demands on our time. I will treat you like a queen when I am around, and you will want for nothing. To prove that I will help you with your problem. Email the details and I will look into it and if there is another way, I will find it for you.”
“You would do that?”
I’m astonished and he nods. “I can do that. It’s what I do and if there is any way out of this for you, it will be my greatest pleasure in finding it.”
My eyes fill with surprising tears because nobody ever helps me. I’ve always dealt with everything on my own and I’m not used to this.
Then there’s his proposition. It shocked me and I’m not sure what I think about it, really. If anything, it sounds so cold, yet is it any different to how I’ve operated all these years? Dating apps and one-night stands are a little demeaning for a woman plunging headfirst into the menopause.
Could Omar be the answer to my prayers, or a welcome distraction to finding my real happily ever after?
I’m not sure what I think and as if he senses my hesitation, he smiles and then winks, which scatters my resistance like oil on water. “I see you need further persuasion, my darling.”
I swear every part of me melts when he looks at me like that and I say breathlessly, “I’m open to persuasion.”
He stands and, keeping my hand in his, leads me back to carry on where we left off earlier.