Page 39 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

She sat on the little bench, still holding the candelabra. She was excited for the night and the adventure ahead. Okay, and a teeny bit nervous, Violet admitted. And she felt suddenly shy as he came through the wooden door.

‘Running off with the silver?’ he teased.

‘I think my arm would fall off if I tried to run off with this.’

She both blushed and smiled, but his words hadn’t hurt or offended, and she hadn’t jumped as if she was being accused, as she so often did. Violet was simply pleased to see him.

‘I was just admiring it.’ She frowned then, remembering he’d said he’d bought them a candle stick. ‘Is this your gift?’

Sahir nodded. ‘It is...’ He paused. ‘Carter and I are working on a project together in Janana.’

‘So, this is from your country?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gosh.’ She went to hand it to him, but paused again to take in its absolute beauty. It was so solid, and yet so intricate. ‘This part is different,’ she said. She couldn’t stop staring. ‘The wax catcher. Perhaps they ran out of silver and had to use brass?’

It was rose gold, and the bobèches—or wax catchers, as Violet described them—depicted a full moon with Mars in opposition to the sun.

To Sahir’s surprise he wanted to share that with Violet—to sit on the bench and tell her about the Setarah collection, even to describe the palace, how it was shaped like a star.

She tried to hand it to him, but it was truly heavy, and she pulled a funny face as he took the weight.

‘Beats my tulip vase,’ she said as he replaced it on the table, and then she stood.

‘Here.’ He gave her his jacket and suggested that instead of walking out through the restaurant they leave by the rear exit.

‘Are you famous?’ she asked as they walked down a cobbled side street. ‘It’s all very cloak and dagger.’

‘In some circles.’ He nodded. ‘I guess you could say that.’

They walked along another beautiful street and then came to a gate. She looked at the very smart house that backed onto a formal garden as he punched a code into the gate.

‘You live here?’ she checked as they walked through the garden and he entered another security code, and another...

‘When we get in,’ he said, ‘if you just want a drink—’

‘If you send me home after a drink I’ll beextremelyupset!’

She would—because for her whole life she’d been looked at as second rate. Sahir made her feel first rate.

Sahir would be her first.

Her eyes widened and then narrowed as she took in the size of his residence, frowning when she saw the dining table. ‘Are those the same candle—?’

‘Do you really want a tour?’ he asked.

‘No.’ She laughed as they stepped into the lounge and she pointed to a decanter. ‘But I’ll have a glass of that.’

‘Not if you’re staying,’ he said. ‘I want us both to remember this...every last moment.’

She thought she should feel shy, but it had faded, and there was not even a glimpse of it.

The light of the moon was streaming in through the French doors and she looked out at a glorious balcony.

‘Oh, my goodness...’ she said.

Under any other circumstance she would have been tempted to step out, for the view of London must be stunning from there...but as he came and stood behind her there was something rather more vital occupying her attention.

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