Page 42 of Habibi: Always and Forever
A PROPERTY OF A BILLIONAIRE BONUS SCENE
Eccentric cake lover who has a passion for words of all kinds. I’m Jayne or JP, I live in the Isle of Man. A tiny place in the Irish sea where all the magic happens.
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CHARLIE
P ushing back my messy hair to see where I was going, I staggered into the walk-in wardrobe that housed the thousand and one suits Griffin had—maybe not quite that many, but there were lots.
The sun was barely up as I rubbed at my bleary eyes to look at my husband.
I’d woken to find the bed empty and with it came a sinking feeling which increased at finding him dressing for work on the Saturday we were supposed to be leaving for our holiday .
Griffin’s grumpy expression, one I recognised, spoke to what was happening right now. He was prioritising work— again .
Why do people think billionaire’s have an easy life?
I’d accepted that Griffin had responsibilities—I did—just sometimes I wanted to be his priority.
And yes, over the last few years, Griffin had slowly—snail’s pace—accepted that he didn’t need to work so hard and that he could trust others with some aspects of the hotel business he owned.
Just not whatever had him dressing in a suit when we were supposed to be on holiday.
I stepped into him, knocking his tanned fingers off the buttons of the crisp white shirt he wore. “Let me.” I needed to do something, or I might bean him with his promise that we’d have two whole weeks together with no interruptions.
Musha Cay, a luxurious exclusive island located in the Exuma Chain of the Bahamas was supposed to be where we were heading this afternoon.
The place was extremely remote and offered us the perfect getaway from life.
Griffin had organised everything, although I had peeked at the details and found the nightly rate was a mindboggling fifty-three thousand pounds.
Yes, the placed spanned a hundred and fifty acres of pristine beaches and lush tropical landscapes.
With a range of amenities, including a pool, tennis courts, and a beachfront cinema—something I was excited about—along with water activities to prevent boredom, it was still astronomical.
However, we had to get there yet .
Warm lips brushed my forehead in affection. A move that revealed Griffin was picking up my mood. Although he could be affection it, it wasn’t something that came natural to him. Mainly it was limited to only me and sometimes Nanna when she wheedled past Griffin’s defences.
He didn’t quite meet my gaze as he spoke, “I’m sorry, I know we talked about having the full two?—”
“Are you sure you have to go? I thought you’d cleared your calendar to make it just you and me,” I demanded, whining more than I liked.
I often held back my disappointment, because I understood the weight of personal responsibility Griffin placed on himself.
But fuck, we’d talked about doing something special for our first wedding anniversary.
I’d worked out the logistics with Guy, my best friend and business partner, and he had agreed to manage our joint fashion enterprise in Brighton.
The business had expanded, and we had purchased the adjacent shops without Griffin’s or Brett’s, Guy’s husband, help.
With my business growing and Griffin’s workload always full of meetings around the world, it wasn’t always easy to plan time together that was more than two or three days.
My lips pursed to stop the demand wanting to spill out of my mouth. I wasn’t that person… I wasn’t.
He ran a thumb over my lower lip and sighed in displeasure. “Barry can’t sign the contracts for the new hotel in Dubai,” he grumbled, his frown deepening as my lip poked out in a pout. “The builders have been able to bring forward the start date…” he trailed off, his gaze revealing his frustration.
I blew out a breath as his hand dropped away, he took a step back when I finished with the buttons. He moved, slipping into his Armani suit jacket, tugging at the cuffs, not looking in my direction.
He fussed for a few seconds, raking his hands through his dark hair that had gained silver flecks at his temples in the last year. It gave him a distinguished air and a sexy appeal. Who was I kidding, he was always sexy.
My gaze swept the suit encased body that I knew intimately was solid from the punishing workouts Griffin used to let off steam.
Unless he used me, which was way more fun.
The boxer briefs I wore in lieu of pyjamas did little to conceal where my thoughts headed.
“When will you be back?” I asked to distract from thoughts of stripping off the damn suit and tying my husband to the bed.
“The plane is booked to return Monday evening.”
The clipped tone got my eyebrows arching. “Three days!” I gasped. “When are we leaving for the Bahamas, then?” Three days! Three days of our holiday gone.
“I have to go.” He was grinding his back molars; I could hear it.
“Go then,” I snapped in disappointment at his lack of response to my question. Was he not telling me something else?
“Sorry,” came in a heartfelt murmur as he reached to cup my face, his thumb stroking over my unshaven jaw. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised huskily.
The kiss that followed held passion, deep and wanton.
The level of intimacy between us I suspected Griffin had never experienced with anyone else, when he seldom let go.
I accepted this was his apology, moving closer to him, clinging to his broad shoulders.
Sexual tension went from a slow hum to more a fast blast to my cock.
A whine of disapproval left my throat as he released me, and I saw the deep flush coating his skin and need in his heavy-lidded eyes.
I swallowed back my desire to beg when it would add to his confliction.
“Ring me when you land in Dubai,” I said instead, taking a shaky step back, clasping my hands behind me to prevent then reaching out.
I ran my finger over my wedding ring, reminding myself that we had all the time in the world for holidays.
Did it help?
Not really when I watched him slip his wallet and keys into his trouser pocket, pick up the overnight bag I’d not initially noticed and leave without a backward glance.
The stiffness across his shoulders said he found this hard too.
I didn’t sigh until I heard the front door close and moments later the hum of a car engine disappearing leaving the quiet behind.
I trudged through into the bedroom and flung myself down on the messy, queen-sized bed, burying my nose into the duvet cover, inhaling the lingering scents of sex and Griffin’s aftershave, missing him already.
“Charlie boy… Charlie boy, are you awake? Why is Griff leaving?” came Nanna’s bellowing voice from below.
I rolled over and off the bed knowing fine well she’d attempt to climb the stairs if I didn’t appear to answer her. Of late it was more obvious how frail she was becoming.
I glanced over the stair rail at the woman who could create mischief from absolutely nothing at all and arched a brow.
How Griffin tolerated her at times was beyond me.
“You know bellowing like that means even if I were asleep, I wouldn’t stay that way for long.
” A quick glance down to check everything was covered—Nanna had no boundaries—I started down the stairs.
“You could wake the dead with that caterwauling.”
“Caterwauling. Nonsense.” The walking stick she had to use was lifted and waved like a sword in my direction before I got halfway down the first flight of stairs. “Did I hear Griff leave?” Her silver brows merged as she wobbled on unsteady feet giving my pulse a nasty bump.
“Nanna the stick is supposed to remain on the ground.” I tried not to think about her age. Mostly it was easy when she acted like an adolescent.
She rolled her eyes at me.
“He’s got to go to Dubai… for three days!” Did I whine? Absolutely.
“Bollocks to that,” Nanna huffed the unladylike comment. “That boy needs a good hiding.”
It was hard to prevent the chuckle when she meant every word.
She’d threatened to do it a time or too and Griffen knew she was serious after she’d managed to come up behind him once and land two good whacks before he could move.
He never got away with anything with Nanna because she loved him as much as she loved me.
“He does, but Barry can’t sign the contract for the new hotel and the builders have brought forward the start date.”
“Rich sheiks.” she shook her head.
Without my glasses I wasn’t quite sure what the look she gave me meant, except it gave me a jumpy belly. Mischief, the woman could create it from nothing.
“They are not at all like the brits who could drag out a funeral date,” she continued. Down went the stick and she turned slowly waving a hand in my direction. “We need to fix this Charlie boy.”
Regardless of how much I’d like to be leaving for holiday right now, Nanna’s interpretation of fixing things would only mean trouble for me—for Griffin. “No Nanna, we aren’t fixing anything.” A shudder ran down my spine despite the warmth in the house imagining how she would go about fixing this.
“Now don’t you fret, I’m good at this sort of thing.”
Charlie gave chase as she disappeared into her part of the house with a determination that spoke volumes to the initiated of a ‘Nanna attack’. “You’re not, please Nanna, he’ll be back Monday night. We’ll go away after that,” I pleaded, forgetting the upset from earlier at losing days of my holiday.
Rachael, Nanna’s companion/nurse was in the kitchen making tea as I came in behind Nanna. “I mean it, you are not to interfere!” I aimed for dictatorial and failed when she took a seat and ignored me, reaching for her iPad which was sat on the table in the sunny kitchen.