Джеки Браун – The Sheikh's Untamed Bride: Lost to the Desert Warrior / Sheikh in the City / Her Ardent Sheikh (страница 14)

It felt like the longest day of her life, and she spent most of it alone, sitting by the oasis, aware of the unfamiliar soreness and aching in her body.

Several times she heard children laughing and the sound reminded her so much of her sister that a lump wedged itself in her throat. Where was she? Had Salem found her? Was she in trouble? Dead?

If Hassan had found her before Salem then the chances were she was already in America.

As darkness fell the noise of chatter faded, leaving only the sounds of the desert at night.

Layla lay still on the bed, staring at the single candle that had been lit for her, so tense she could hear her own breathing in the silence of the tent.

Would he come?

Would it be like the night before?

The question swirled around in her head until eventually she fell asleep. When she woke it was light, his side of the bed was still cold, and she had her answer.

He hadn’t come.

She was still alone in the bed and she had no idea if Raz had even returned.

Seriously concerned, she swallowed her pride and sought out Nadia once more.

‘I do not know where he is, Your Highness.’ Her voice was frosty and hovered on the edge of rude. ‘He never reveals his plans. And now he’s brought you here the risk to him personally will be even greater.’

With no hard evidence with which to refute that challenge, Layla bowed out of the conversation. Guilt gnawed at her, driven by anxiety that Nadia could be right. Had she increased his problems? Had she made things worse, not better?

Or did his unexplained absence have nothing to do with Hassan?

What if it were driven by something even more personal?

Something to do with the night they’d spent together.

Was he thinking of his wife?

Layla spent a second day alone, with only her imagination for company, and was beginning another night the same way when she heard the sound of horses and knew it was him.

The rush of relief was quickly followed by other, more complex feelings.

All day she’d wanted to see him, but now he was here she wished she were on her own again. She had no idea what to say or what to do. She was hardly in a position to play the role of concerned wife, but still she was concerned.

Embarrassed, uncomfortable, and burning hot at the thought of the night before them, Layla sat rigid, wishing that there was a rulebook she could follow, an instruction manual—anything that might give her clues about how she was supposed to behave.

She heard his voice, deep and instantly recognizable, as he responded to people around him, but still he didn’t appear in the tent. It seemed he had time for everyone except her. Or maybe he was once again waiting for darkness. Maybe he just couldn’t face looking at her.

As that explanation occurred to her embarrassment turned to humiliation.

Everyone would know the Sheikh had stayed away from his new bride.

That indisputable fact was a stark reminder that physical intimacy didn’t mean emotional intimacy.

Curled up in a ball under the covers, Layla felt more alone than she ever had in her life.

At least back in the Citadel she’d had Yasmin. Her life had been wretched, but familiar. She’d known the rules, known what was expected of her and been able to rationalise every one of her thoughts and feelings.

Here, she was totally isolated, living with a man who apparently loathed her so deeply he couldn’t bear to set eyes on her, tormented by emotions and feelings that were totally unfamiliar.

She heard a splash from nearby and assumed he’d gone for a swim in the oasis.

The fact that he hadn’t even greeted her first upset her more than she could rationalise. She shouldn’t care, should she? She wasn’t allowed to care.

Layla hesitated for a moment, but then slid quietly out of the bed and peeped through the slit in the tent. It was dark, but without the pollution of the city there was sufficient light for her to make out powerful shoulders as he swam.

She stared at those bare, powerful shoulders, fascinated and shocked in equal amounts. If anyone had told her days ago she’d be hiding in a tent in the hope of getting a glimpse of a naked man she would have laughed at them. But this wasn’t any naked man, of course. This was Raz. And because he’d blown out the candles she had yet to see his body.

And she couldn’t really see it now—just the occasional tantalising hint of male muscle and power as he swam with smooth, steady movements.

He reached the far side of the pool and turned. Layla shot back into bed, terrified of being caught.

By the time he walked into the tent she was safely under the covers with her eyes closed.

She heard his soft tread, then silence, and she knew he was looking at her although surely the lack of light would restrict his vision.

Feeling as if someone had set fire to her, Layla kept her eyes closed and tried to breathe evenly. She stayed completely still. Even when the mattress moved under his weight she didn’t move.

She lay rigid, churned up inside by his reappearance, shocked that he’d stayed away for two days and then not even greeted her on his return, and shocked that such an action on his part could hurt so badly.

‘A tip for the future. No one is that tense when they sleep.’

His voice was deep and soft and she turned, giving up the pretence. What was the point?

She saw that he had lit a single candle. Not much, but enough to send a golden shadow of light across the bed. Enough for her to see his face.

‘Where have you been?’

Shock flared in his eyes. ‘I’m not in the habit of disclosing my plans to anyone—least of all to a woman I met for the first time only three days ago.’

She wanted to point out that it might only have been three days but that he knew her more intimately than anyone, had revealed a part of her she hadn’t even known existed, but she realised there were dark depths to him she hadn’t begun to uncover.

‘Has there been any news of my sister?’

His gaze was shuttered. ‘None.’

Just one word but it made her feel sick, and suddenly all the daydreams were blown out of her head and replaced by stark reality. ‘That’s bad, isn’t it? We should have heard something.’

‘If she is alive then Salem will find her.’

‘If?’

‘Do you want false hope? Because I won’t give you that. Lies destroy trust and create nothing but confusion. But until we have evidence that something has happened to her I urge you to stay positive. We have to hope she will have found a way to survive.’

‘How? Neither of us spent any time in the desert when we were growing up.’

‘And yet Tazkhan is ninety-eight percent desert. How can you serve a country when you are ignorant of the life its people lead?’

Thrown off balance by that unexpected attack, Layla sat up, clutching the silk sheet to her neck as she rose to her own defence. ‘That is an unfair accusation. You know nothing of the life my sister and I led.’

‘You were in a position of power and lived a life of luxury. There must have been something you could have done.’

Luxury? ‘There was, and I did it. I came to you.’

Cold black eyes met hers. ‘I am supposed to believe that was an altruistic act on your part? How do I know you didn’t just have the sense to move to the winning side?’

It was like being slapped.

‘If you believe that, why did you marry me?’

‘Because your motivation has no impact on my decision. I am doing what is best for Tazkhan. My personal wishes have no part in this.’

‘So when we were in bed you had to force yourself to do those things to me?’

His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. Two streaks of colour highlighted the hard, savage lines of his cheekbones. ‘For a virgin whose first glimpse of a naked man was from behind a curtain, you suddenly have a great deal to say for yourself.’

She had the distinct impression that he was trying to pick a fight, and suspected she knew why. It was logical, wasn’t it?

‘You’re angry,’ she said softly, banking down her own feelings to try and understand his. ‘You feel guilty and it’s making you angry.’

‘You know nothing about my feelings, Princess.’

‘And you know nothing about my feelings, either. I may be inexperienced, and I admit I’m shy, but don’t ever assume you know what my life has been. The reason my sister and I have no knowledge of the desert is not because we weren’t interested but because we were unable to leave the city walls.’