Rogue

In the meantime, plans for the wedding were under way. Maxine hadn't found a dress yet, and she needed one for Daphne too. Daphne refused to have any part of it, and was threatening not to go to the wedding at all, which was yet another challenge Maxine had to face. She didn't say anything about it to Charles. She knew how hurt he would have been. So she went shopping on her own, hoping to find dresses for both of them. She had already gotten khaki suits for the boys, and one for Charles too. At least that was done.

Blake had called from Morocco, told her all that he'd accomplished since she left. The new construction to transform his palace into a home for a hundred kids was already under way. He had turned staffing, and the running of the future orphanage, over to a group of very competent people, and he had done all he could for now. He planned to come back every month to make sure they were moving ahead as planned. So he was going back to London for the time being, and he told Maxine that everything was ready on the boat for them. She and the kids could hardly wait. It was their best vacation together every year. Charles was not as sure.

Blake had told Arabella about his plans for the orphanage too. She thought it was a wonderful thing to do.

He decided to surprise her when he flew back to London. He was coming home a week earlier than he'd said he would. He had done everything he could, and he had work to do now in London, setting up the financial arrangements for the orphanage, and a hundred orphans.

He arrived at Heathrow at midnight, was at his house forty minutes later, and let himself in. The house was dark, and Arabella had said she'd been working hard, so he assumed she was asleep. She'd said she had hardly been going out, and it was no fun without him. She was desperate for him to come home.

Blake was exhausted after the flight to London, and everything he'd been doing in the past weeks. He had a deep tan on his face and arms. Beneath where his T-shirt had been, his skin was white. All he wanted now was to get his hands on Arabella, and jump into bed with her. He was starving for her. He tiptoed into his bedroom, in case she was asleep. He saw her shape under the sheet, sat down next to her, and leaned down to kiss her, only to discover that there were two bodies, not one, and they were intertwined and half asleep. His eyes flew wide open, and he turned on the light for a better look. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, and at first he wanted to believe it was a mistake. It was no mistake. An extraordinarily handsome dark-skinned man sat up in bed with her, with a look of panic. Blake suspected it was one of the important Indian men she knew, or perhaps a new one. It didn't matter who he was. He was in Blake's bed with her.

“I'm terribly sorry,” the man said politely, instantly wrapped himself in the sheet that was floating loose on the bed, after what must have been a lot of activity, and swept out of the room as fast as he could. Arabella stared at Blake in horror and started to cry.

“He just dropped by,” she said faintly, which was clearly a lie, because he was packing two alligator suitcases in Blake's dressing room, so he must have been there for a while. He emerged five minutes later in a beautifully cut suit. He was a striking-looking man.

“Thank you, sorry,” he said to Blake. “Goodbye,” he said to Arabella, and hurried downstairs carrying both his bags. A moment later, they both heard the front door slam. He had been staying with her, in Blake's house, with no shame whatsoever.

“Get out of my bed,” Blake said coldly. She was shaking and reached out to him.

“I'm so sorry …I didn't mean to …I won't do it again …”

“Get up, and get out,” Blake said plainly. “You could at least have gone to your own place. Then at least I wouldn't have known. This was a little cheeky, don't you think?” She had gotten up and was standing before him in all her naked beauty. She was a gorgeous girl, tattoos and all. The only thing she was wearing was her ruby bindi between her eyes. Blake was no longer amused. “You have five minutes,” he said clearly. “I'll send you whatever you forget.” He reached for the phone and called a cab. She disappeared into the bathroom and emerged in blue jeans and a man's T-shirt. She had on highheeled gold sandals and looked sexy as hell. But he no longer wanted her. She was used goods. And a liar. A big one.