A Proposal Worth Millions

CHAPTER FOUR

IT ALMOST FELT like a date, Dylan thought as they sped down the Turkish roads towards the town centre. The Azure Hotel wasn’t quite close enough to walk in—another point against it—but with Sadie sitting beside him in a pale cotton sundress, her dark hair loose to her shoulders, he found it hard to be objective.

Because this—being alone with her, exploring a new place, relaxing in her company—was everything he’d dreamed about once, in the secret places of his mind he’d never fully admit to. Back in the days when he’d let himself think about a world without his best friend, or one where he’d met Sadie first.

He hadn’t let the fantasies into his mind often—he’d learned early in life there was no point wishing the world to be any different than it was unless you were willing to do something to change it. And he hadn’t been willing, not in the slightest. If even imagining it had felt like betrayal, the idea of acting on those fantasies had been beyond contemplation.

Adem had been the right guy for Sadie—he’d always known that. Known he couldn’t offer her half as much, so he’d never considered trying—not that he’d have risked or betrayed his friendships that way anyway. A woman like Sadie needed love, commitment—she deserved forever. And he didn’t have that in him.

But now, with Sadie in the driver’s seat, sunglasses on and legs bare under that sundress, he could feel those imagined possibilities rising again. And just for a moment he let himself believe that she wanted him here—for more than just his money.

A light turned red and they pulled to a stop, the jerk breaking the moment, and reality sank back in. If this were a date he’d planned, he’d know where he was going. Sadie would be smiling at him, not looking tense and nervous and sad. The familiar guilt wouldn’t be sitting in his chest—smaller than when Adem had been alive, sure, but still ever present.

Plus he’d probably be driving.

The lights changed again, and Sadie manoeuvred expertly past waiting cars and swung into a suddenly vacant parking spot by the marina that Dylan hadn’t even noticed. He had plenty of experience driving abroad himself, but for once he was glad to be driven. It was nice to see Sadie so in control in this place.

‘Come and look at the ocean,’ she said, sliding out of her seat and into the sunshine. ‘It’ll give you a feel for the place.’

They stood by the railings together, staring out at the Aegean, and Dylan felt a comfortable warmth settle into his bones—one he wasn’t sure was entirely due to the sunshine. He was enjoying Sadie’s company just a little too much. He’d always found her presence relaxing, to a point, but before he’d never allowed himself to indulge in that feeling too much. Here and now, though, it felt all too natural.

He shut his eyes against the sparkle of the sun on the water. Business. That was what he was here for, and that was what he needed to concentrate on. He couldn’t afford to forget himself here—he needed to keep on top of his other projects while he was away, as well as work on the Azure proposal with Sadie. Already that morning he’d had enough emails from his assistant back in Sydney to remind him that things never worked quite as smoothly when he was away. He had to stay on top of everything.

Eyes open again, he shut his mind to the view and the warmth of the sun, and turned his attention instead to the practical aspects of the place. A marina, filled with top-end private yachts—and further up, cruise ships. Suddenly he understood exactly why Sadie had parked where she had.

‘So, this is your subtle way of telling me that Kuşadasi is a popular cruise-ship destination?’ he said, turning his back on the marina to lean against the railing and study her instead.

She gave him a perfectly innocent smile. ‘Pure coincidence, I assure you. But as it happens, yes, it is! Tourism is the heart blood of this place. The ships stop here regularly, filled with people ready to explore the town—and spend their money on souvenirs.’

Which all sounded good until you studied the logic behind it. ‘But how many of them make it up the hill to the Azure?’

‘That’s not the point.’

‘Of course it is. If the bulk of the tourists visiting this place are only here for the day, what do they need with a hotel?’ She winced at his words, but recovered quickly. He had to admire her tenacity, even if her argument was weak.

‘The cruise ships are only a small part of the tourist industry here—and, actually, they’re the gateway to a whole new market. Some of the people who visit for a day might never have even considered Turkey as a holiday destination before—but after a few hours here they may well decide to come back for a longer stay. Or to tell their friends that it was a great place to visit. Or even look into buying holiday apartments or hotel time shares here.’

A slim possibility. People who liked cruises—like his mother and her third husband—tended to take more cruises, in Dylan’s experience. But who knew? Maybe she was right. He’d need more figures before he could make a value judgement.

‘Okay, then,’ Dylan said, pushing away from the railings. ‘So what is it about this town that will make them come back?’

‘The history,’ Sadie replied promptly. ‘The shopping. The atmosphere. The food. The views. Everything.’

‘So show me everything.’

‘That could take a while.’

Dylan shrugged. ‘We’ve got all day. So, what’s next?’

Sadie looked around her then nodded to herself. ‘Let’s take a walk.’

That date-like feeling returned as they walked along the seafront towards a small island, linked to the mainland by a walkway. Dylan resisted the urge to take her arm or hold her hand, but the fact it even needed to be resisted unsettled him. Not just because this was Sadie but because he’d never really thought of himself as a hand-holding-in-the-sunshine kind of guy. He tended to work better after dark.

Sadie turned and led him along the walkway leading out into the sea towards the island, and Dylan distracted himself by reading the signs of fishing tours on offer and checking out the tourist trap stalls set up along the way, selling bracelets and temporary tattoos.

‘What is this place?’ he asked, nodding to the island up ahead. Covered with trees, it appeared to have a fortified wall running around it and plenty of people wandering the path along the edge of the island.

‘Pigeon Island,’ Sadie replied promptly. ‘You see over there, above the trees? That’s the fortress of Kuşadasi—built in the thirteenth century. It was there to protect the Ottoman Empire from pirates—including Barbarossa himself.’

‘I didn’t realise I was here for a history lesson, as well as a tourism one.’

‘There’s a lot of history here,’ Sadie pointed out. ‘And a lot of tourism to be had from history. Wait until you see the caravanserai.’

‘I look forward to it.’ History wasn’t really his thing, but Sadie seemed so excited about taking him there he was hardly going to mention it. Maybe it would be more interesting than he thought, looking back instead of forward for once.

‘There’s a seafood restaurant and café and stuff inside,’ Sadie said, as they reached the path around the island, ‘although I thought we’d head back into town for lunch. But I wanted you to see this first.’

She stopped, staring back the way they had come, and Dylan found himself copying her. He had to admit, Kuşadasi from this angle was quite a sight, with its busy harbour and seafront. He could see what Adem had loved about the place.

‘Does Turkey feel like home now?’ he asked, watching Sadie as she soaked up the view.

She turned to him, surprised eyebrows raised. ‘I suppose. I mean, we’ve been here for a few years now. We’re pretty settled. I can get by with the language—although Finn’s better at it than me.’

‘That’s not the same as home.’ At least, from what little Dylan knew about it.

‘Well, no. But, then, I never really expected that anywhere would be home again after Adem.’

One quiet admission, and the whole mood changed. He was wrong, Dylan realised, and had been all along. This was nothing like a date at all.

He looked away, down at the water, and tried to imagine what kept her there in Kuşadasi. It couldn’t just be history and sheer stubbornness, could it? Especially given how strange and lonely it must be for her there every day in Adem’s place, without him beside her.

She shook off the mood, her hair swinging from side to side as she did so, and smiled up at him. ‘What about you? Where’s home for you these days? Neal says you’re operating mostly out of Sydney?’ Changing the subject. Smart woman.

‘Mostly, yeah. My mum left Britain and moved back home to Australia when she remarried again, and my sister is out there too now, so it makes sense.’ And this time, finally, he had faith that they might both stay there now they’d each found some happiness in their lives. He felt lighter, just knowing they were settled.

‘Do you see them often?’ Sadie asked.

Dylan shrugged. ‘It’s a big country. We catch up now and then.’

‘Between business trips.’ Was that accusation in her tone? Because he wasn’t going to feel bad for running a successful business, even if it meant always being ready to jump at a new opportunity and run with it—often in the opposite direction from his family.

‘Pretty much. Between the office in Sydney and the one in London, I probably spend more time in the air than in my apartments in either city.’

He’d meant it as a joke, but even as the words came out he realised he’d never thought of it like that before. All those years trying to get his family settled, and he’d never stopped to notice that he didn’t have the same grounding at all. He’d just assumed his business—solid, profitable and reliable—was enough to give that security. But in truth he was no more settled than Sadie was, in this country she’d never chosen for herself.

Maybe they were both drifting.

‘We’re both very lucky to live in such beautiful places, though,’ Sadie said.

He tried to return her smile. ‘Yes, I suppose we are. So, why don’t you show me some more of the beauty of this place?’

‘Okay.’ She stepped away, back towards the promenade to the mainland. ‘Let’s go and take in the town.’

* * *

Home.

Sadie considered Dylan’s question again as she led him into the town of Kuşadasi proper. She took him by the longer back route to give him a true feel for the place. In comfortable silence they walked through narrow cobbled streets filled with shops. Half their wares were hung outside—brightly coloured belly-dancing costumes and leather slippers butting up against shops selling highly patterned rugs, or with rails of scarves and baskets of soaps on tables in the street. The smell of cooking meat and other dishes filled the air as the local restaurants prepared for lunch, the scent familiar and warming to Sadie.

As they walked she could see Dylan taking everything in—reaching out to run his fingers over the walls, his eyes darting from one shop display to the next. Had she been so fascinated when she’d first visited? It seemed so long ago she could barely remember.

Would this place ever truly be home? Could it? Or would it always just be the place where she’d lost the love of her life?

When she thought of home she thought of her family—and so, by default, of the pretty English village where she’d grown up, just outside Oxford. She remembered playing in the woods with her sister Rachel, or taking walks on the weekend with their parents and stopping for lunch in a country pub. And she thought of later meeting Adem and his friends in Oxford, when she’d travelled in every day for her first proper job after training in a small, independent spa and beauty salon there. She thought of the first flat she and Adem had rented together in London, after they’d been married.

She didn’t think of the Azure. Not because she didn’t love it but because it seemed so alien to all those other things. Like a permanent working holiday.

She loved Turkey, Kuşadasi, the Azure. And maybe Dylan was right in an odd, roundabout way. If she wanted to stay there, she needed to find a way to make it feel like home.

They emerged from a side passage out onto the bigger main street, with larger stores and the occasional street vendor stall. Here, after the charm of the old town streets, Kuşadasi looked more modern, ready to compete in the world tourist market. It was important to show Dylan that they had both here.

Suddenly, Dylan stopped walking. ‘Hang on a minute.’ Turning, he walked back a few paces to a stall they’d just passed. Curious, Sadie followed—not close enough to hear his conversation with the stallholder but near enough to see what had caught his attention.

She rolled her eyes. A sign advertising ‘Genuine Fake Watches’. Of course. In some ways Dylan really was just like Adem—they had the same absurd sense of humour and the same reluctance to let a joke lie untold.

Still, she smiled to see that Dylan wasn’t pointing out the error to the stallholder, and instead seemed to be striking up a friendly conversation with him as he took a photo on his phone and examined the watches. Another way he was like her husband, she supposed—that same easy nature that made him friends everywhere he went. She’d never had that, really, and couldn’t help but envy it.

‘Enjoying yourself?’ she asked, as he returned.

Dylan grinned. ‘Immensely. What’s next?’

She’d planned to take him to the caravanserai—she just knew his magpie mind would love all the tiny shops and stalls there, too, and it was a huge tourist attraction with plenty of history. But it was getting late and her stomach rumbled, nudging her towards the perfect way to remember why she was so lucky to live in Kuşadasi—her favourite restaurant.

‘I think lunch,’ she said, watching as Dylan slipped his own no doubt authentic and ridiculously expensive watch into his pocket and replaced it with the genuine fake he had just bought.

‘Fantastic. I can show off my new toy.’ He shook his wrist and, despite herself, Sadie laughed, feeling perfectly at home for the first time in years.

* * *

From the way Sadie was greeted at the door of the restaurant with a hug from an enthusiastic waitress, Dylan assumed she was something of a regular. Despite the queue of people ahead of them, they were led directly to a table right in the centre of the glass-roofed portion of the restaurant, with vines growing overhead to dull the power of the sun as it shone down.

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