Caught in His Gilded World

She was already feeling humiliated enough after being trussed up and thrown over his shoulder like a naked turkey.

Better to say nothing.

She folded her arms. She really didn’t want him to know just how utterly out of her depth she was feeling. The most excitement she ever got was pedalling a bicycle down the hills of Montmartre. She might play at being Gigi, Queen of the Amazon, onstage, but frankly she was Gigi, Queen of the Ordinary, in her everyday life. Tearing down a Moscow highway at midnight in a supercharged sports car with a man who dated supermodels wasn’t exactly the usual end to a night onstage for her.

The problem was it seemed to be turning into one of those episodes with her father, where she’d been forced to keep her opinions and fears to herself because he hadn’t wanted to hear them—and even if he had it would just have been something he’d expected her to get over.

‘You’ve grown soft, Gisele Valente,’ she could hear him saying. ‘Life’s tough—you need to toughen up.’

‘Gigi?’

She sniffed.

Which was when something landed in her lap.

It was a phone. An elaborate little device.

‘Eight-ten-thirty-three.’

‘Pardon?’

‘The international code to phone Paris. I thought you might want to ring someone,’ he said gruffly. ‘Your friends might be concerned.’

The fact that it hadn’t even occurred to her until now startled Gigi.

Of course Lulu would be frantic! She hadn’t been at the theatre tonight, but no doubt some of the other girls had spread the news of her being carried out in his arms.

Lulu probably had her stepfather pulling all kinds of strings at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, where he pretty much ran the show.

She made the call. Lulu picked up immediately and shrieked her name, confirming her fears and forcing her to hold the device away from her ear.

It was even more awkward explaining herself with Khaled right beside her.

‘I’m fine. He’s not a murderer.’

She glanced at him, wondering what he was making of this, but Khaled’s expression gave nothing away. She might have been talking about her shopping list.

‘No, it’s okay—I’ll be back in a few days.’ She turned towards the door and tried to keep her voice down. ‘No, it’s not a stunt. I’m in Moscow.’

‘We’re on Kashirskoe Shosse.’ Khaled’s deep voice cut through the shrill sounds of disbelief in her other ear. ‘Your friend can find it on a map.’

‘Did you hear that, Lu? Yes, that’s him. Yes, he is.’ She lowered her voice. ‘No, he hasn’t.’

Khaled shifted beside her and Gigi wished the seat would swallow her up.

Lulu’s description of the protesters’ arrests and the media’s interest was alarming. None of it had apparently been an over-exaggeration on Khaled’s part. Then again, he had not yet struck her as a man given to anything but the stripped-down facts. It was something, given her murky past with her shyster father, she really liked about him.

Had liked about him...before he’d started going on about her act.

She listened as Lulu described how she’d had to wade through paparazzi to get into the apartment building and how she and Coco were staying with her parents tonight.

Khaled had told her the truth.

She glanced at him, feeling a little stupid for all the fuss she had made.

‘People at the cabaret are talking about it like it’s the romance of the century,’ Lulu went on. ‘I think some of the girls have even talked to the press.’

‘Romance?’ She said it out loud, before she could censor herself. ‘I don’t think—’

Khaled plucked the phone out of her hand. ‘She’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

Lulu must have said something cutting, because Khaled’s expression was cool as he ended the call.

‘She does not like me.’

What on earth had Lulu said?

‘You might want to rein her in on making threats. They’ll get her into trouble.’

Gigi blinked. ‘It’s Lulu,’ she said faintly. ‘She’s not a threat to anyone.’

‘Nor are you to feed stories to her while you are here.’

‘Stories?’

‘“Romance of the century...”’ he drawled.

Gigi went hot. He’d heard Lulu’s end of the conversation. He must have ears like a cat. A big, predatory cat—the kind who brought down the unwary.

She was beginning to feel distinctly savaged herself by this line of discussion.