Chapter 5
"Dorothy, your efficiency is almost frightening."
Dorothy glanced at Relena Darlian after directing both the florists and the caterers. "I am trained for this sort of thing," she reminded her.
"I must admit that I never would have thought of this luncheon benefit. How did you manage to arrange this in just two days?"
Dorothy would never admit to Relena that the true purpose was to find a way to speak privately to Sadirah Barak about her daughter. On the surface, the luncheon with the Deputy Foreign Minister was a benefit to aid the children's hospital, but in reality it was just another excuse for influential women to show off their wealth and get together to talk about their latest self-indulgent activities. When Dorothy suggested the function to her superior, he was delighted and quickly set about getting the wife of the president of the Earth Sphere United Nation to speak at their luncheon. Although the beautiful young wife of Quatre Winner would not usually be invited to attend with the upper crust of the Earth Sphere society, Dorothy included her on the list.
"I can't help wondering what is up your sleeve," remarked Relena thoughtfully.
Dorothy was consulting her digital organizer when she answered. "Can't you just accept that I have a genuine concern for the health and welfare of children." She certainly wasn't lying although her concern was centered on one child.
"You seem to have everything under control. I am going to get ready, and I'll meet you in an hour."
After Relena left, Dorothy concentrated on directing the workers who were decorating the banquet hall of the Darlian house. When she was finally satisfied with the work they had done and made arrangements for their payment, she went to a room where she would change into more elegant clothing for the affair. She wasn't quite sure how she would broach the subject of Jamila's bruises, partly because of the delicate nature - Sadirah might be responsible for them - and partly because she didn't exactly know the relationship between Jamila and her mother. From what she had seen and heard, Jamila adored her mother, and so Dorothy could not imagine that Sadirah was mistreating her.
More than likely, Jamila and her mother had a relationship very similar to the one she had with her own mother; they barely saw each other. Her mother attended the obligatory functions at her boarding school. She brought her home for holidays so that she could parade Dorothy before her relatives, then promptly forgot about her as she went on with the day to day life as a socialite descendant of a very old and very noble family. Dorothy had known, from the moment she could understand, what was expected of her. If her mother was capable of loving her, she never gave any hint. Her father had wanted a son and never made any pretense of having affection for her. Her grandfather gave her grudging respect only after her father had been killed in battle and mother had died in her last attempt to produce a male heir for the Dermail family and she was all that remained. Dorothy still had to prove herself to the old man by becoming as ruthless as he had demanded for the warmongering policies of her family.
When they had all gone, and there was no more war, Dorothy had found herself adrift, not knowing what direction to take. That was why she had been so susceptible to Quatre Winner's charm. Being with him was like no other experience she ever had. Or ever would again.
While putting the finishing touches on her makeup after dressing in a pale blue and white silk afternoon dress, Dorothy heard an almost imperceptible knock at the door. Looking in the mirror, she saw it open and a man slip in.
"I don't know if I should be surprised or not that you are here." Dorothy turned her attention back to blending some color into her cheeks.
"I go where I am sent."
She picked up a string of pearls. She had received them for her fifteenth birthday, shortly before her mother's death. Dorothy had been touched that her mother had remembered her birthday until she opened the card embossed with the name of the jeweler's shop to see a preprinted impersonal message.
"This kind of thing isn't your style," remarked Heero Yuy in his deep monotone voice.
Dorothy shrugged. "You must have been discussing this with Relena."
"Relena doesn't know that you invited Quatre Winner to your home yesterday and spent most of the morning in his company. Later, you canceled your lunch engagement with Randolph Morrison."
"Corrections," said Dorothy with a lift to her brows. "I spent most of the morning entertaining Quatre Winner's daughter, and I realized that there were many children who didn't have the privileges that she does. That is an explanation to my sudden desire to help them by throwing this benefit luncheon. I am unsure as to how long the Winners will be staying on Earth, so I had to do it quickly so that I might solicit funds from them."
She could see through the mirror that Heero was still skeptical. For a moment of uncomfortable silence, he processed her explanation, then he said, "You said 'corrections'. Did you not break you lunch date with Morrison?"
"I was going to," she confessed, "but when I called him, he took the opportunity to break it first. Apparently he was meeting with several bankers and investors..."
"Chief among them, Hassan Barak."
"You never cease to amaze me with your ability to discover just about anything about anybody." Dorothy stood and turned to face him. "Then again, that is your specialty, isn't it?"
He raised a brow. "I haven't been able to discover the reason for this inane function."
Dorothy laughed softly. "That bothers you, doesn't it?"
He almost smiled. "Someday I will find time to discover your secrets, Dorothy Catalonia. In the meantime, I am obligated to keep an eye on Hassan Barak and Quatre Winner. Barak financially backed Mahmad al-Jazar's rise to power, and he has been meeting secretly with the man. What I don't know is how much Quatre knows or what his intentions are. He may very well be holding the purse strings for Al-Jazar."
"Quatre is a pacifist," said Dorothy, probably a little too forcefully. "Al-Jazar is a miltary dictator. I think that even a child can draw a logical conclusion."
"Quatre may be a pacifist, but he owns more than one company that produces equipment that could easily be used for war purposes."
"Don't be ridiculous! Quatre Winner would never allow such a thing."
Heero looked her in the eye. "We don't know really know the Quatre Winner that would marry into the family of Hassan Barak. I can tell you this, Dorothy, that if Al-Jazar gets his hands on the Winner fortune, he won't stop at keeping L4 firmly under his heel. He'll spread his influence through the colonies and we'll see war in space that made A.C. 196 look like a Sunday picnic. This time the gundams won't be around to bring it to a swift conclusion that could save a lot of lives."
Before she could respond, Heero ducked out the door. Sighing, she checked her appearance one last time before she left the room and went below to join Relena in welcoming the guests. The usual old matrons had accepted, bringing along the daughters who needed some good press coverage to improve their marriage prospects. Dorothy fended off the women whose sons were not yet married and who saw her fortune and unmarried state as two circumstances that could not coexist.
The arrival of Sadirah Barak Winner caused a sensation for more than one reason, the foremost being that she was a newcomer to this exclusive set of illustrious self-important women of the Earth Sphere United Nation. That she was striking in a pale yellow silk and chiffon dress of Arabic design that served to accentuate her exotic beauty only made the anxious mothers both glad and envious that she was already married to the wealthiest man in the solar system. Bodyguards accompanied her, and Dorothy recognized the giant, imposing Rashid. Because the former Maganac leader was so devoted to Quatre, the fact that he was personally guarding Sadirah told Dorothy that Quatre was concerned about his wife's safety. Perhaps she had misunderstood Quatre's intentions toward her.
Relena greeted the young woman, then introduced her to dozens of fawning women before she finally came to Dorothy. Dorothy hadn't gotten a good look at Sadirah in the dark garden at the charity ball, so seeing her in the light of day made her stomach churn. She was no longer surprised that Quatre could so easily forget what had happened between them in Barbados. There was not a single flaw in the perfectly proportioned woman. Her dark eyes were like liquid chocolate, her burnished hair shone like polished mahogany and her olive skin had probably never had a blemish.
"This is Dorothy Catalonia..." Relena began to tell Sadirah.
The young woman interrupted her. "We are acquainted as I was introduced to her at the charity ball." Her voice was accented, her tone controlled although Dorothy sensed she would cut her socially if she thought she could.
"Dorothy arranged this luncheon," Relena told her. "In fact, she insisted that you be included since you and Quatre were on Earth."
Sadirah looked from Relena to Dorothy, and Dorothy saw a brief look in her eyes that she would term as hostile, but her voice did not betray her feelings. "I appreciate your consideration. I have not been to Earth very often since my school days."
"You received your education on Earth?" asked Dorothy politely although she already knew just about as much as she wanted to know of Quatre's wife.
"My father thought I should prepare to be a dutiful wife who could make her husband proud."
"I am sure Quatre is very proud of you," said Relena. She glanced at Dorothy with her brows raised as if expecting her to echo the compliment.
Dorothy could only think of the blond little girl that Sadirah was responsible for and who was being beaten on a regular basis. "I had the opportunity to meet your daughter yesterday when your husband returned a valuable piece of jewelry I dropped in his car."
"Yes, my husband told me about it," said Sadirah, her voice even. "I am glad that he could be of service to you."
The tension growing between Dorothy and Sadirah had become obvious to Relena because she suddenly announced that lunch would be served in the garden. Sadirah gave Dorothy a scathing glance that Relena didn't see, so Dorothy knew the discussion she had planned to have with the woman would not go smoothly.
Dorothy was seated several places away from Sadirah, so she observed her at her leisure. Sadirah was polite if not cool to the women around her, but that was not an unusual affectation among these haughty people. She couldn't find any fault with her manners, and she watched as Sadirah listened to the address delivered by the president's wife with very well feigned interest. When the collection hat was passed around at the conclusion, Dorothy knew there would be a substantial contribution from the Winner family.
When the luncheon had come to an end, some of the women left, others who knew each other well drifted together to talk about their empty lives, and Dorothy took the opportunity to seek out Sadirah. She found her standing alone, looking about anxiously, probably to alert Rashid that she wished to leave.
"Have you had the opportunity to admire the roses in garden?" Dorothy asked her when she came to her side.
Sadirah turned her head, her brow raised. "I have no desire to admire roses, especially with you."
Her voice was so low that Dorothy was sure only she could hear her. "I have no desire to admire Miss Darlian's roses either, but there is something we must discuss."
Sadirah turned her head in a vain attempt to ignore her.
"It is in your best interest to accompany me," Dorothy told her, then turned and headed out the open French doors.
She didn't have long to wait before Sadirah joined her in the deserted garden.
Sadirah didn't waste time in voicing her opinion. "You have offended me by insisting that I speak to you when I know of your relationship with my husband."
Dorothy made a sound of disgust. "I have no relationship with your husband. Whatever was between us has been over for a long time, even before he married you. I am involved with another man."
"I am not a fool," hissed Sadirah, her eyes dark with anger. "You invited me here so that you could assess your chances in getting him back, and I hope you realize the futility."
"You couldn't be further from the truth." Dorothy continued before Sadirah could argue. "I wished to speak to you about your daughter."
"My daughter!" Sadirah's eyes widened, and for moment there was a panicked look on her face. "What...what could you possibly..."
As diplomatically as she could, Dorothy explained the events that lead to her discovery of the bruises on Jamila. The play of emotions on her face made it difficult for Dorothy to read her accurately, but her angry distress when she finished echoed what Dorothy felt herself.
"I had no idea that Atifah was mistreating her!" cried Sadirah, and she reached up to dash away tears from the corner of her eyes. "Fortunately I have already released her from her duties and sent her back to L4. I intend to inform her family of her unacceptable behavior." Sadirah fumbled in her handbag for a handkerchief which she used to dab at her eyes. When her red eyes met Dorothy's, she asked, "Did you discuss this with my husband?"
"No, I did not," Dorothy told her. "I thought I should bring it to your attention first." She had done enough research on the culture of the Arabic settlers on L4 to know that the woman of the household was completely responsible for the children.
Sadirah nodded and smiled gratefully at her. "Quatre would be very angry with me to know that I let such a situation develop. I...I never imagined that anyone would hurt a child as you have described. I confess that I have been very busy the last few months, and so I have not been able to give as much attention to Jamila as I should."
"I am quite sure that your daughter adores you," Dorothy told Sadirah kindly.
When Sadirah reached out to take her hands, Dorothy found them cold and stiff. "I thank you for the kindness you have shown to my family and for opening my eyes." Releasing her, she walked away, leaving Dorothy in the garden.
Dorothy watched as Rashid appeared, stepping away from the shrubbery to follow Quatre's wife. She thought she could rest easy having done what she could to alleviate Jamila's plight. Perhaps now Sadirah would give her daughter the attention she craved.
The breeze was still warm blowing off the sea when they finished the meal. Quatre had asked her some questions about what she had been doing since the end of hostilities between the Earth Sphere United Nations and the army built up by Dekim Barton. She hadn't been doing much of anything so the conversation was rather short-lived. His question, while posed with innocent motives, forced her to acknowledge once again that she didn't have a clear direction to her life. She felt uncomfortable knowing that she could continue as she was now for many years into the future, living alone in the Dermail Mansion. Before this trip to Barbados, Dorothy hadn't left the mansion very often and visiting her one afternoon, Relena joked that she was becoming agoraphobic, that she was afraid to leave the ancient home of her ancestors. Dorothy scoffed at that, and perhaps she was trying to prove Relena wrong by coming to Barbados.
Quatre tossed his cloth napkin on the table and stood. Dorothy didn't really want the evening to come to an end, but she knew it was getting late, and she knew she probably wasn't the most enjoyable dinner date he had ever had.
He walked to her side of the table and pulled out her chair, then slid his hand under her elbow to raise her. "Would you care to dance, Miss Dorothy?"
"You don't seem to be giving me much choice in the matter," she remarked as he led her a few feet away from the table. She wondered where the music was going to come from until he nodded toward the silent servant who waited in the shadows. The sound system was so good that Dorothy could almost swear that an orchestra was playing.
He drew her into his arms and held her at a respectable distance as they swayed to the slow music. Dorothy had danced with men before, but none had made her feel what Quatre was. When he looked into her eyes, she knew he saw something other than gold and properties and power. Quatre had all those things already and didn't need to pursue Dorothy Catalonia for them. His blue gaze made her feel uncomfortable in a decidedly pleasant way. Her lashes fluttered shut when he moved closer to her, and as her pulse began to race, she willed this moment to be imprinted in her memory so that when she was back home and alone, she could call it back to relive.
Sensing, rather than seeing his face approaching hers, she dropped her head back and shivered when his lips brushed her neck, then her chin before settling over her lips. Nameless, faceless young men at school dances had kissed Dorothy before, but she had never felt what she did now as Quatre's lips moved over hers, slowly, lingering, then demanding that she respond. She didn't have much choice in that either and her arms moved up around his neck, pulling him closer.
When he gently nudged her mouth open, Dorothy felt an excited shock to her senses as his tongue slipped inside to caress her own. This had never happened to her before, and deep inside she knew that if she didn't put a stop to this kiss that was turning into something she couldn't handle, she might have a bigger problem to deal with. But she couldn't stop it and allowed him to make her breathless and mindless until she became dizzy and had to break off the kiss. She had barely gotten some air before he was kissing her again, and this time his hands slid over her body, down her back until he grasped her backside and pulled her against him so intimately that Dorothy's inundated senses were suddenly shocked back to Earth.
Dorothy jerked herself away from him and slapped his cheek.
Quatre stared at her incredulously, his hand reaching up to touch the pink imprint hers had left behind. "Why did you do that?"
She was finding it very difficult to regain her composure. "I would think that should be obvious."
"To you, perhaps." He ran a hand through his hair. "Did I read your signals wrong, Dorothy?"
"Signals?" she repeated numbly. Dorothy felt a strange, crushing feeling in her chest.
"I admit that I thought your act was rather clever, and quite refreshing since I thought I'd seen everything."
Dorothy stared at him, hardly daring to believe what he was telling her.
"But I think we can close the curtain on this performance," he continued. "You're a big girl, Dorothy Catalonia. You knew what you were getting into when I picked you up at the restaurant last night."
"Picked me up?" Dorothy suddenly felt like a cheap harlot and a naive fool all at the same time.
Quatre fell silent as he stared at her, and Dorothy was ashamed to feel a tear roll down her cheek.
He reached out to catch the tear on a finger, and his brows drew together as he silently contemplated it. Then his eyes met hers, and she had to look away from his surprised gaze.
"I'm sorry, Dorothy," he said softly as he took a step toward her.
But she backed away, and before he could say anything else, Dorothy turned on her heel and hurried to her room. Quatre followed her, but she closed the French doors and latched them then threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the pillow to muffle her sobs.
Why did she allow her to think that there was any romance involved in Quatre Winner's actions? Dorothy had been a fool, and she had read in his eyes that he knew exactly how innocently she had perceived his intentions toward her. Quatre could have any woman, and he had settled on her because he was bored and thought she would amuse him. For a while she had, but Quatre expected more than she was prepared to give.
When there was a knock at the bedroom door, she didn't respond, and after a moment she heard his voice on the other side. "I'll take you back into Bridgetown tomorrow, and I'll have my pilot to fly you back to Europe wherever you want to go."
She didn't answer him, and she sensed that he stood outside her door for a few minutes, but he didn't say anything else. Dorothy was too ashamed to speak to him, and she wasn't sure how she would face him in the morning. Reviewing everything that had happened between them since he ran across her at the restaurant, Dorothy understood how he could have gotten the wrong impression. Dorothy had never been in a situation like this, had never attempted to seduce a man nor shared more than the most innocent of kisses, and those stolen and promptly rewarded with a slap. She was a twenty-year-old woman with the experience of an adolescent. Quatre was probably feeling like a child molester.
Dorothy tossed and turned most of the night, finding it impossible to sleep as she considered her actions the last couple of days if not the last week, beginning from the time she decided to come on this vacation. Allowing herself to be seduced by Quatre Winner she should chalk up to an experience she could not forget too soon.
When she finally fell asleep, the last thought she had was the memory of Quatre's words. "You're a big girl, Dorothy Catalonia. You knew what you were getting into..."
Morning came too soon, and when Dorothy left her bed, still wearing the dress she had worn the previous evening, she was not surprised to see her two suitcases in the room. She thought she would be glad to have her things back, but when she snapped open a case to find clothing to wear on her trip home, she found herself staring at the contents with no desire to withdraw any of her garments.
She shut the suitcase and went to the closet. Knowing that the decision she was making would change her forever, she pulled out the swimsuit and the floral, wraparound cover-up skirt. When she unlatched the French door and stepped out onto the terrace, her heart was beating so fast that she felt dizzy, but she managed to keep her feet moving toward the table where he was sitting, a newspaper in his hands as he sipped from a teacup.
Hearing her footsteps, he was setting aside the newspaper as he said, "As soon as you are ready to go..." The teacup rattled on the saucer and tipped as his eyes fell on her and he spilled hot tea on his half-open white shirt.
Dorothy crushed the urge to cross her arms over her chest to hide her bare midriff. "I've decided to stay," she told him, her voice not nearly as confident as she would have liked.
Quatre didn't say anything as he stared at her, but she knew he understood how much this meant to her. Dorothy was afraid that he would reject her, something he should probably do, and she would probably allow him to send her sensibly back to Europe.
But he reached for a napkin to dab at the spill on his shirt, while his appreciative attention was on her. "It looks as though you are planning to take a swim."
Dorothy sat on the chair across the table from him. She didn't look away from his face. "I don't know how to swim," she confessed to him, then added, feeling the blush heat her cheeks, "there's a lot of things I don't know how to do."
The slow smile he gave her made her insides melt as the rest of her heated up. "We'll have to do something about that, Miss Dorothy."
While Sadirah attended the luncheon, Quatre spent most of the day in business meetings, reviewing operations on Earth and hearing propositions from entrepreneurs looking for financial backers. Sadirah's father made his recommendations and Quatre usually followed his suggestions although in some cases he forestalled going against Barak's counsel by requesting further information. Quatre wanted nothing to do with any company even remotely associated with manufacturing weapons or military supplies. Because Barak had been an associate and friend of his father, Quatre thought he would understand, but Hassan Barak seemed to have forsaken the ideals they used to share in his pursuit of money.
After the last visitor had left his temporary office in the Winner Industrial Complex, Barak remained behind to discuss his decisions, and when they had finished, he turned the discussion to more personal matters.
"My daughter is very pleased that she was included in the charity luncheon," stated Barak. "I would not want her feelings to be hurt if she knew you had something to do with it."
Quatre relaxed against the leather back of his chair as he looked at his father-in-law. "I don't know what you are getting at."
"I have discovered that the luncheon was arranged by the assistant to the public relations director of the Earth Sphere United Nation, Miss Dorothy Catalonia."
Although he knew the point Barak was trying to make, Quatre knew nothing of Dorothy's duties or any motive she might have for arranging the luncheon aside from the most obvious, which was to benefit needy children. "I am sure that Sadirah was invited because she is a wealthy young woman, and because we are on Earth now, it was convenient to introduce her to the society that frequents those kinds of affairs." He turned his attention to a file lying on the desk. He wasn't really interested in studying it, but he hoped Barak would take the hint and leave the matter alone.
Unfortunately he wasn't satisfied with Quatre's explanation. "My daughter informed me that you accompanied Miss Catalonia to her home the night of the charity ball."
"I returned to the hotel before Sadirah," Quatre pointed out. He didn't like where this discussion was heading.
"You saw her again on the following day."
"I returned a valuable heirloom to her, an earring which she dropped in the car."
Barak was relentless. "Then it is simply coincidence that Miss Catalonia went out of her way to arrange this luncheon on a moment's notice, specifically insisting that Sadirah attend?"
"Perhaps she did it out of gratitude? What difference does the reason make when Sadirah was happy to be included?" Barak knew more about his past relationship with Dorothy than anyone because he had been in Barbados. When it had concluded badly, Quatre had turned to the only father figure in his life for advice, so he knew how much Quatre cared about Dorothy. Barak was obviously bothered by her reappearance in his life and Quatre wondered if he would actually voice his suspicions about his intentions toward her.
He apparently thought it unwise. Despite the power Barak had gained in the last few years, he still owed it to his son-in-law and he dared not offend him. "I do not wish to see Sadirah hurt."
Quatre found it difficult to echo that sentiment, yet he did want to put Hassan Barak's mind at ease. "If Miss Catalonia insisted on Sadirah's attendance at the luncheon, then it was out of respect for her position and nothing more."
Barak held his gaze for a moment, and Quatre could almost read his thoughts, that Quatre would feel deep regret both personally and financially if he allowed his marriage to Sadirah to crumble.
He waited a few moments after the other man had left his office before finding and dialing the number for Dorothy's office. Checking his watch he noted that the luncheon was probably over and she might have returned to her office, and if not, he would get her home number from her secretary.
His call to the Earth Sphere United Nation offices was forwarded to her personal assistant, Tracy James. The woman appeared to be efficient and no-nonsense, like the woman for whom she worked.
"Ms. James, my name is Quatre Winner and I would like to speak to Miss Catalonia if I might. I know she arranged a luncheon..."
"I will check with Miss Catalonia right away."
Quatre drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited, and he was rewarded by a prompt response. "At the moment, she is quite busy with a press conference. May I take a message?"
He wasn't used to leaving messages and Quatre was more than a little annoyed. "I would like her to meet me for an early supper..."
The brusque woman interrupted him again. "I know that she has a supper engagement with Mr. Morrison this evening, so she will be unable to meet you."
Quatre almost swore. "I'm sure if you inform her of my invitation..."
"I will tell her that you called." He could tell by her tone that his call would be low on her list of priorities. Before he could find some other way to talk her into leaving a message for her, he found that his call had been disconnected.
He stared at the telecom phone in disbelief for several moments before he did swear. Quatre hadn't considered the possibility that Dorothy wouldn't be available to see him and Jamila, and he had already told Jamila that she could dine with her. He didn't want to her to suffer the same disappointment that he was at the moment.
So he found the number for Randolph Morrison's offices and contacted the man with whom Dorothy had plans for the evening. Knowing that Morrison was a lying cheat, Quatre found it difficult to hint to him that he might be interested in investing through him. Morrison told him that although he had plans for the evening with Dorothy, he knew she would not mind if he canceled them.
Quatre thought his opinion of the man could not sink any lower, but he was wrong. He suggested meeting with the two of them, that he would enjoy catching up with Dorothy during their informal meeting, then Morrison slyly suggested including his wife. Quatre almost relented, thinking that Sadirah had already spent some time with him again when her father took her to a meeting with him. Maybe if she saw the handsome investment broker again, she might be tempted to explore her personal options. Morrison obviously wouldn't be adverse to such a situation. But Quatre wouldn't stoop so low as to arrange the opportunity for his wife to commit adultery. He told Morrison that his wife was busy, but that he would be bringing his daughter. The man had a hard time hiding how repugnant he thought a dinner would be with a four-year-old child in attendance.
With the meeting arranged, Quatre returned to the hotel to find that Rashid had already delivered Sadirah safely to their suite. She was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine while Jamila sat at her feet quietly, her hands clasped in her lap. Quatre knew that meant his daughter had misbehaved in some manner and was being punished, but Jamila hurried to greet him, and he pulled her up to swing around and kiss her plump cheeks.
Sadirah set aside the magazine. "Go to your room, Jamila."
Jamila slipped her small arms around Quatre's neck. "Must I, papa?"
"Did you misbehave for your mother?" he asked her with raised brows. To Sadirah, any exhibition of exuberance was misbehavior, which was confirmed by her answer.
"I was very noisy when mama was napping."
Quatre looked over Jamila's head to his wife. "I have made plans to take Jamila out to dinner. Have you hired a nanny who can dress her?"
Sadirah pursed her lovely lips in a rather unattractive straight line, then responded, "I did not have the opportunity and the hotel nanny has left for the evening. I will not be joining you for supper as my father has already made plans, but I will dress Jamila."
Quatre hadn't planned to invite her so he was spared the unpleasant task of excluding her. He set Jamila on the floor, gave Sadirah instructions to have her ready in forty-five minutes, then went outside to smoke before he would prepare for what might be a difficult evening.
Only a moment passed before Rashid joined him, and he didn't take his eyes off the sunset as he enjoyed his cigar.
"Sadirah behaved in a manner that would give you no cause to complain," reported Rashid.
"I'm delighted to hear that." Quatre didn't really care how Sadirah comported herself.
"Before she left, she spoke privately with Dorothy Catalonia."
Quatre slid his gaze to Rashid. "Of what did they speak?"
Rashid shifted uncomfortably then proceeded to tell Quatre about the conversation he had heard in the garden. As he listened, Quatre grew rigid with anger, at himself for allowing himself to be so uninvolved with Jamila that he didn't even know someone was hurting her, and at Sadirah for ignoring a situation she must have been aware of. He ground out his cigar, gave Rashid instructions, then went to his room to change for dinner.
Several minutes passed before a knock at the door preceded Sadirah's entrance. As he knotted his tie, he looked at her through the mirror. She met his gaze, her face composed and showing no emotion. "Rashid told me that you wished to speak to me," she said when he did not speak.
"You are responsible for Jamila's welfare," he said through gritted teeth. "Since you have decided that she will have no siblings, I suggest that you keep her safe because she is my only heir."
"I am sorry," she said humbly, and he saw her lower her head.
"About what? That you fail as a mother as much as you fail at being my wife?" He straightened his tie and turned around to face her, but she did not look at him. Another man might think she was so full of remorse that she couldn't face him. Quatre knew better. Sadirah didn't want him to see the contempt he knew she felt. "I'll never forgive you for allowing Atifah to abuse her, and if I ever find a bruise on my daughter, I will see that you have one to match."
He pushed past her without waiting for a response, and he found it difficult to control his emotion when Jamila skipped to him, swinging her fancy skirts, a smile on her face. Quatre knelt and hugged her close for a moment, silently vowing to protect her from anyone who would try to hurt her.
Jamila wriggled out of his embrace and she showed him the small satin purse that matched her blue and white dress. She held up her gloved hand and whispered behind it, "I have the angel in the bag." Carefully she pulled open the drawstring to show him the pilfered objet d'art. "I didn't let mama see it. She would be angry."
Sadirah did not come out to see them off although Jamila watched for her. Before Quatre entered the elevator with their bodyguards, Quatre stepped away for a moment to speak privately with Rashid while Jamila modeled her elegant dress for the guards who were profuse with their compliments for the little princess.
"I want to speak to Atifah," he told Rashid. "Find her and bring her to my office tomorrow."
Rashid raised a brow. "In what condition?"
Quatre thought about what he had said to Sadirah, but he wouldn't lower himself to punish the woman. In his mind, Sadirah was responsible. "In one piece, my friend. I want to discuss the matter with her."
Rashid nodded then moved away, and Quatre joined his daughter in the elevator. When she smiled up at him and reached up to take his hand, Quatre felt moved to tears, but he managed to control them because he knew Jamila would be upset if she saw him cry.
"I can't wait to see Miss Dorothy," she said without curbing her excitement.
"Neither can I," he responded with a smile and a squeeze to her hand.
