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He swiped it from her proffered hand and balled it in his fist, flinging it onto the floor.
‘I think we both know I won’t be needing that.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KADAR STEWED IN HIS empty apartment for two entire days being constantly reminded of where Amber wasn’t to be found. Wearing an achingly short checked cloth in his shower. In the bed he’d grown used to seeing her in. Against the glass doors while she counted the ships sailing by as he...
She wasn’t in any of those places, but he saw her all the same.
So he would put his coat on and shove his hands deep down in his pockets and he would walk the windy, rain-streaked streets of Istanbul, walk till he was sure her ghost must finally be gone, only to go home and find himself still sensing her in the movement of a shadow, still catching her perfume when he least expected it.
Two days of torture and he was over it. He’d done the right thing, hadn’t he? He’d cut off the offending limb and cauterised the wound. So why was this black mood hanging over him like a dark cloud?
Because he was still angry at himself, he reasoned. Because she’d lied to him and he’d almost fallen for it. Almost imagined that she was special, and that he would be a fool to let her go.
Lying sleepless and alone at three in the morning in his big wide bed, he knew the truth.
He was a fool, and it wasn’t because he’d let her go.
Because with Amber, he’d actually believed the impossible—that it was possible for him to feel love for a woman. Love with Amber, at any rate.
Fool!
He’d let a liar and a thief work her clever cunning way into his heart, and if anything he should feel relieved.
Maybe what he needed was a change of scenery.
He thought about visiting his three friends, even just for a couple of days for a change of scenery, but Zoltan and Bahir were married and had young families and he would be a third wheel, and besides, his friends weren’t stupid. One of them was bound to sniff out that there was something on his mind. Something he’d rather not confess.
And God only knew where Rashid was in the world at the moment. Which was a shame, because he could do with talking to another confirmed bachelor right now. The competitiveness between them alone would have been enough to convince him he was better off without her.
Fed up with his mind going in ever-decreasing circles, he left his meeting with the advertising agency that wanted to use his fireworks, and had his driver pull up outside the Spice Market. He would visit Mehmet and tell him of his time in Burguk and his visit to the Pavilion of the Moon.
Maybe a visit to his old friend would brighten his dark mood.
But the Spice Market only reminded him of Amber and those red jeans and blue eyes and a smile that could light up the marketplace, and he scowled at the man serving him the dates and apple tea as if it were all his fault, and left the market in an even darker mood.
Mehmet at least was happy to have a visitor. It was something. ‘I brought you apple tea and some dates. Would you like some tea now or would you prefer coffee?’
Mehmet waved his thanks. ‘Come in, come in. It is good to see you, my friend.’ He cocked an ear. ‘But you are alone?’
‘Of course, I am alone.’
‘And your friend?’
He ground his teeth together. ‘Amber left two days ago.’
‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I liked your young woman.’
‘She was never my young woman,’ he growled, already heading for the kitchen, making an executive decision. ‘I’ll make us some tea.’ Sure, maybe for one moment he’d almost fallen for her wiles. For one second he’d imagined—but no. He was never cut out for love and marriage and family. He’d been a fool to forget that for even a second.
Besides, she was a thief. An opportunist. He’d known it from the start and she’d proved him right. When all was said and done, he’d had a lucky escape. Mehmet himself had had a lucky escape. Which reminded him, as he boiled water and made tea for them in copper pots, and found a dish for the dates, he still had to get the bracelet back to the Pavilion of the Moon. Strange that nobody had missed it, but then, the university students cataloguing the collection might still be on holidays. Maybe that was where he should go. Not that visiting the Pavilion of the Moon would make him forget about Amber. Her ghost would be everywhere there.
He poured the tea into glass cups and took it and the dates through to the other room.
