Читать книгу The Sheikh's Untamed Bride - Jackie Braun - Страница 14
ОглавлениеLAYLA PACED THE width of the tent and back again, so upset she didn’t know how to calm herself. Once again she was ripped apart by emotions new to her and she tried desperately to rationalise them.
Why would he trust her? He didn’t know her. Of course he’d be reluctant to allow her near his child—a child whose existence he’d taken great care to keep secret from her family. It was a sign of his love for his child, and she was the last person ever to criticise a father for loving his child.
So why did his attitude towards her hurt so badly?
And why couldn’t she share the same space with him and not think about sex?
Hyped up and unsettled, she picked up a ripe peach from the bowl on the table and then put it down again, knowing that she was already in possession of the answer. And the answer was that it hurt so badly because it felt as if he cared. When his mouth was on hers, when his hands were holding her face and his body was buried deep in hers, it felt as if he cared. And it felt incredible. So incredible she wanted more. And in wanting more she also wanted it to mean something.
The whole thing was turning her brain into a churning mess. She was used to using logic, but the feelings inside her defied logic.
With a murmur of frustration Layla turned and paced back again, trying to filter out the facts, but even the facts were confusing. To be so intimate in bed and so distant out of bed was muddling her brain. In bed, the signals were that he cared. Out of bed, it was clear he considered her on a level with the life forms occupying the bottom of the oasis.
Having admitted that to herself, it horrified her when he strode into the tent and closed the flap between them and the rest of the world.
‘Go away—’ Her voice cracked and she stepped back from him, still reeling from their conversation and feelings that were new to her. She wanted to turn them off and had no idea how. ‘Don’t say anything else. I can’t take any more right now. I got the message. If you really don’t want me near your daughter I won’t go near her, but please make sure that someone does because I can’t lie here listening to her screaming.’
‘And that is very much to your credit.’ His voice was low, his expression guarded as he watched her pace from one end of the tent to the other. ‘I came to tell you that you’re wrong.’
She couldn’t focus.
She couldn’t concentrate on the conversation because she wanted to look at him all the time. Not just because he was a man who naturally commanded attention, or even because he was sensationally good-looking—although that had to play a part—no, it was something so much more personal. It was because he knew her in a way no one had ever known her before. Whenever he was near she felt as if they were being pulled together. She had to fight the impulse to walk up to him and touch him. And because she had no experience of feeling that way she had no idea how to cure herself.
She’d never felt like this before and it was driving her mad. They had huge issues, but all she could think about was the feel of his hands on her and the way it felt to be kissed by him.
Layla pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to clear her brain, trying to harness her old way of thinking. Trying to push out thoughts she didn’t want in her head. Her stress levels were running into the red, her grip on control so loose she was afraid the whole thing was going to slip from her grasp. She knew the only way to pull herself back together was not to be near him. She needed to be on her own so that she could rebalance herself.
‘I probably am wrong. You know Nadia much better than I do. I don’t have all the facts. If you think she’s the right person to care for your daughter, it’s not my place to disagree with you.’
‘I don’t mean that you’re wrong about Nadia. I mean that you’re wrong about the other things you said.’
She was so aware of him standing there that the whole conversation blurred in her head. ‘What things?’ Was this the ultimate in humiliation? To know a man could do those things to her and feel nothing and yet still her head could be full of nothing but him? Why couldn’t she detach the physical from the emotional as he evidently could?
The intimate atmosphere suffocated her, and the way he was looking at her made her feel as if he’d touched her skin with the flame of a candle.
‘I make love to you in the dark not because I am thinking of my wife, but because you are very shy and I am trying to be sensitive to your feelings. On that first night you would not even remove your robe to show me your bruises, so I assumed you would want to take that side of our relationship very slowly.’
Slowly?
Layla felt as if she were burning up inside. She thought about what they’d shared. Was that slowly? Trembling, she hid her damp palms behind her back. ‘Oh.’
‘You came to me clutching a copy of the Kama Sutra, but you hadn’t even glanced between the pages and clearly had no idea of what lay ahead of you. I decided you might be less self-conscious if you were in darkness.’ He paused to draw breath. ‘I don’t spend time with you during the day, that is true, but it’s because I have a million and one demands on my time—not least the upheaval in Tazkhan. I have spent the past two days meeting with certain members of the council in secret. Hassan has disappeared. That is another reason I am particularly concerned about my daughter’s safety right now.’
Still dealing with the news that he’d been thinking of her feelings, Layla felt her stomach lurch. ‘Hassan has disappeared?’
‘Yes, and until we know his whereabouts I don’t want my daughter left alone.’ He hesitated. ‘Or you. He is a desperate man. Who knows what he could decide to do, given that he now has so little to lose? He has lost any chance of taking your father’s place and he has few, if any, supporters among the people. Speaking of which, I have been learning a great deal of interesting information about you in the past few days.’
‘You have?’
‘I spent some time with the people. I visited hospitals and local schools—including a school where you apparently help out.’
‘I love books and I like to help the children who struggle with reading. The school doesn’t have enough staff to offer that sort of help.’ Layla stammered over the words, horrified that he’d found out with such ease. So much of her life had been conducted with discretion, if not secrecy. ‘Who told you?’
‘Apparently the staff don’t feel the need to keep it a secret any longer as your father is dead and Hassan missing. There is no shortage of people willing to tell me how good you are with the children and what an excellent decision I made in marrying you.’
She stood rigid, thrown by that news. ‘But you don’t think that. I know you don’t. On that first night you left the tent because you felt guilty about what we’d done.’
‘No. I felt guilty because the sex was incredible. I agreed to this marriage because of what it meant for Tazkhan, but what we shared that night went well beyond duty and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.’
Shocked into silence by his honesty, Layla tilted her head and stared up at him, feeling a shift in their relationship. ‘I didn’t know—’
‘That I felt that way? I would have thought it was obvious.’
His dry tone made her blush and the look in his ebony eyes made her stomach flip.
‘Your Highness—’
‘Raz.’
He was standing so close to her she could hardly breathe. She lifted her hand and placed it on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart under her fingers. ‘Raz.’ It felt strange to say his name. Strange to be this close to someone.
He cupped her face in his hands. ‘Do you realise that, despite the intimacies we have shared, that is the first time you have spoken my name?’
‘It felt wrong to use your name. You were a stranger.’
There was a prolonged silence. His eyes dropped to her mouth. ‘But I’m not a stranger now.’
His self-assurance was in direct contrast to her own mixed-up, tangled emotions.
‘You hate me.’
‘No. But I admit it’s a complicated situation.’ A wry smile tugged at his sensual mouth. ‘You are a person who likes facts, so I will tell you that the facts in this case are that nothing is going the way I thought it would go when you turned up at my camp that night.’
She wanted to reach up and sink her hands into that glossy dark hair. She wanted to pull his head down to hers and see if his kiss felt as good in daylight as it did in darkness. She wanted to give herself up to the emotion and the confusion and stop trying to rationalise the mess in her head.
‘It’s not going the way I thought it would go, either.’
‘I owe you an apology for ordering you to stay away from my daughter. You should know that I am very overprotective where she is concerned and the past week has been a particularly unsettling time.’
Standing this close to him, it was a struggle for her to concentrate. ‘I would never criticise any father for being overprotective.’
‘Please understand that my reluctance to allow you near her was less about you as an individual and more about my determination to keep life as stable as possible for her. I thought Nadia was the perfect person to care for her. It seems I may have been wrong.’
‘Maybe you weren’t. As you said, there is probably some perfectly reasonable explanation for her absence.’ What right did she have to comment on the behaviour of another person when she didn’t even understand her own?
‘Possibly, but at the current time we are unlikely to find that out.’ There was an edge to his tone. ‘She has gone missing, along with one of my guards. I suspect that when they both should have been with Zahra they were together. We are trying to find them. In the meantime I must thank you for being so incredibly kind to my daughter when she was upset.’
His apology was as unexpected and unsettling as it was touching.
She’d craved distance, but instead she had closeness and a new sense of understanding that simply intensified the feelings inside her.
‘She is very sweet and good-natured. And I love her sense of mischief. She reminds me so much of Yasmin.’
‘The people here have noticed your kindness to her and it has done much to make them warm towards you. What are these stories you’ve been telling Zahra that make her so desperate to go to bed at night?’
‘One Thousand and One Nights. I read them to my sister.’
His eyes glittered. ‘So now you think you are Scheherazade?’
‘Hardly. But I thought if I could relax Zahra before she sleeps she might be less likely to wake.’
‘It was a good plan. Did it work?’
‘It’s too soon to know. I just wish I’d brought the book with me instead of leaving it at the first camp.’
‘That was the other book you brought with you?’
‘Yes. It’s one of my favourites. I decided I could only carry two, because of the weight, so I picked that one.’
His hands were still on her face, his gaze intent on hers. ‘And the Kama Sutra.’
‘It was a matter of priorities.’ She knew her face was hot against his palm. ‘And ignorance.’
‘You have no need to explain yourself to me and no need to feel embarrassed.’ His eyes darkened. ‘These last few days have been a terrible strain for you. The threat of marriage to Hassan, whom you clearly fear and loathe, escaping from the palace, losing your sister in the desert and then being picked up by my men. Marriage to a stranger, a near drowning, and then living with a husband with whom you’ve barely shared a conversation but are expected to undress for.’
Layla tried to smile. ‘When you put it like that, it’s no wonder I’m a little wound up.’
‘A little?’
‘A lot. I’d be a lot better if there was news of Yasmin.’
His hand dropped from her face. ‘So far there is none, but that does not mean you should worry. Salem is renowned for not communicating.’
Remembering the dark, forbidding profile of the man she’d seen only briefly on that first night, Layla found that of little comfort. ‘What if he can’t find her?’ She blurted the words out, seeking reassurance.
‘If anyone can find her it will be Salem.’ Raz hesitated, as if he were deciding how much to tell her. ‘He has a special set of skills.’
‘But what if Hassan has already tracked her down? What if he has her right now?’
‘Then Salem will find both of them and you can safely feel sorry for Hassan.’
Layla hesitated, because to make an accusation unsupported by solid evidence felt wrong. ‘I have nothing but instinct on which to base this suspicion, but I think Hassan may have played a part in the death of my father.’
His expression didn’t change. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’
The relief that came from having someone to discuss it with was overwhelming. ‘You suspect it too?’
‘Of course. The moment I heard about the Sheikh’s sudden illness it was the first thing that came to mind. We have no proof, but we believe it was Hassan who ordered someone to tamper with the brakes of my car two years ago. I don’t believe it was his intention to kill or injure my wife, because that would have brought him no political benefit. There is little doubt I was the intended victim, but sadly she chose that day to borrow my car.’
His voice was thickened with a mix of regret, guilt and anger, his pain so powerful she felt it as if it were her own.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I do not hold you in any way responsible. But it is true that Hassan would do anything for power. He and your father were cut from the same cloth.’
She knew that, but it was the first time she’d heard anyone else say it. ‘If he finds my sister—’
‘I would trust my brother with my life and we must now trust him with your sister’s life.’ He turned to look at her, the lines of his handsome face set and serious. ‘When did you last eat?’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘You’ve barely eaten in the whole time we’ve been together.’
‘I’ve eaten.’
‘We may be in the dark for much of the time, but that does not make me blind.’ His tone was dry. He hesitated. ‘Zahra is keen for me to take her riding today. I know your experience with horses to date has been less than encouraging, but if you would like to learn to ride it would give me pleasure to teach you.’
The thought of spending yet more time on a horse horrified her, but she could tell he was reaching out to her and didn’t want to do anything that could be considered a rebuff. ‘Teaching a beginner would drive you mad.’
‘I have been teaching Zahra since she was able to sit unsupported. Believe me when I say that nothing you throw at me can be more of a challenge than putting an overexcited toddler on a horse.’
‘You taught her to ride that young?’
‘It is the best age. She has grown up around horses, as I did. It wouldn’t surprise me if she chooses to make that her career in some way in the future.’
Career?
‘You see her having a career?’
‘Of course. And I can’t see it being diplomacy, because my daughter is as outspoken as your sister.’
That fact clearly amused him, and Layla thought about the times she’d had to haul Yasmin away from a situation before her comments created havoc.
‘You’re proud of your daughter.’
‘Very.’
The contrast between his love for his daughter and her own barren childhood was so vividly accentuated that the breath caught in her throat. Wondering what was wrong with her that she could envy a child, Layla stepped away from him.
‘Thank you for the offer of riding lessons, but I don’t want to intrude on your time with Zahra.’
He curved an arm round her waist, trapping her. ‘You’re still upset?’
‘No.’ All she had around this man were uncomfortable feelings. Feelings about him. Feelings about herself. She’d arrived here thinking she knew herself well and had discovered she didn’t know herself at all. It was like being inside the body of a stranger. ‘I just don’t want to intrude on your relationship with your daughter.’
‘You were the one who pointed out that you should be part of my relationship with my daughter.’
Did it make her a bad person that it was almost too painful to watch? ‘You have a very special bond.’
‘A bond that will not be threatened or broken by the presence of another person.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘But that isn’t the issue, is it? Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘There is no issue. Nothing is wrong.’ She tried to walk away but he locked his arm tightly around her waist.
‘Your father wanted you to marry Hassan, so I assume from that your relationship with him was difficult. You don’t have to hide it from me. I want to know. All of it.’
‘Why? What difference does it make?’
‘As you just pointed out to me, keeping secrets isn’t going to do anything for the progression of our relationship.’
Did he see a progression? This was a man who had loved his wife totally and completely. A man who had vowed never to love again. What progression could there be? She could have asked, but she wasn’t sure she could cope with the answer. They were together now, and nothing could change that.
‘My relationship with my father wasn’t just difficult, it was non-existent. You’re so proud of Zahra and you want the best for her.’ She stared at a point in the middle of his chest, trying to contain her emotions and relate only the facts. ‘My father was never proud of me. His interest in us extended no further than how useful we could be to him. He met Yasmin just four times in his life.’
Shock flared in his eyes. ‘Four times? That is all?’
‘Five, if you count the day he died, when we were both hiding behind the curtain in his rooms.’ Layla was surprised by her sudden need to confide when she’d lived her life relying on no one.
There was a long, tense silence. ‘I had no idea. I assumed—’ He broke off and rubbed his fingers over his forehead, apparently struggling for words.
‘I cared for Yasmin. We’ve never been apart. She’s the only person in the world I’ve ever been close to until—’ She stopped, feeling her face burn. Feeling his eyes on her.
‘Until me.’
‘I know we’re not close in that sense,’ she said quickly. ‘I know what our relationship is.’
‘Do you?’ His voice was soft and his eyes didn’t shift from her face. Slowly his hand dropped. ‘Then you’re making more progress than I, because I truly have no clue what our relationship is.’
The air was thickened with a tension she’d never felt before.
Something changed when she was with this man. Something she couldn’t put a name too, and didn’t understand.
She wanted desperately to reach out to him, to touch him as he’d touched her, but she wasn’t sure he’d want that and didn’t have the confidence to risk being rejected.
‘You should go to Zahra.’
‘You will come too. It would please her if you were to join us.’
‘I really don’t—’
‘And it would please me, too. Get dressed and meet us outside. Zahra’s favourite treat is to have breakfast by the oasis, so we will do that and then fly the helicopter to Bohara—my home.’
‘You have a home?’ It was something else she hadn’t known about him. ‘All the rumours are that you live in the desert and move around for your own safety.’
‘I do live in the desert, and I do move around—because how else is a man expected to know his people if not by living among them? But I also have a place that is mine. A stud farm just inside the border with Zubran. On paper it is owned by the Sultan of that country, who just happens to be a friend of mine.’ When Layla stared at him he flashed her a smile. ‘I don’t spend all my nights in a tent. After the last few days I think you deserve a taste of luxury.’
* * *
‘Just practise everything I taught you. I will keep you on a leading rein so there is no way she can run away with you.’
‘That’s comforting to know.’ Layla sat rigid on the calm, placid mare and Raz hid a smile, oddly touched by her determination to ride even though she clearly found the whole experience uncomfortable and unnatural. So far she had fallen three times, but each time she’d insisted on getting back on the horse.
‘If you want to give up, just tell me.’
‘I don’t want to give up. I won’t give up.’ Her jaw was set, her wrists inflexible as she gripped the reins.
‘Relax,’ Raz said mildly. ‘If you relax you will not fall.’
‘We both know I am going to fall whatever I do.’
But still she got back up again. He wondered if that was a skill she’d developed during her loveless childhood. But it hadn’t been completely loveless, had it? She’d had her sister. The sister who was now missing.
He made a mental note to try again to contact Salem, even though he knew such persistence would irritate his brother. ‘Relax your wrists and lower your hands slightly.’
She did as he instructed. ‘At least it isn’t as far to fall as it is from your stallion.’
‘I promise I will not let you fall again. Don’t grip the reins so tightly—you’re pulling on her mouth.’
‘I am?’ Dismayed, she immediately loosened the reins and rubbed the mare’s neck by way of apology.
He watched, intrigued by her and wondering how such gentleness could come from so much evil.
In all the rumours that had oozed from the corrupt walls of the Citadel there had been little about the princesses and most hadn’t thought to question the detail of their existence.
‘You’re doing well.’
‘We both know I’m not doing well, but I will learn. Just as long as I don’t hurt an innocent horse in the process.’ She balanced herself carefully and then risked a glance at him. It was the first time she’d taken her eyes off the horse’s ears. ‘Thank you for being so patient.’
‘You are very easy to teach because you listen. Sit up straight. Sit down in the saddle. That’s good.’
Her jaw was rigid and he could see her concentrating, going through his instructions one by one. The mare walked forward without fuss, as accommodating as he’d known she would be.
‘She’s very pretty. Is she pure Arabian?’
‘Yes. She is brave, spirited and intelligent, like all of her breed. And very strong. She could carry you for days in the desert and not tire. It’s the reason we choose this breed for endurance racing.’ It occurred to him that she shared many of those qualities. ‘The Arab horse is surefooted and agile in difficult terrain and bred for stamina. It can withstand the daytime heat of the desert and the cold at night.’
‘You bred her?’
‘My father bred her. He gave her to me as a foal but I am too heavy for her now. She taught Zahra to ride.’
‘You mean you taught her.’
‘The horse did most of the teaching.’
‘Did your wife ride?’
She asked the question quietly and he realised how sensitive the situation must be for her.
‘She didn’t ride, but she was an artist and she loved to paint the horses. She spent hours studying equine anatomy and her attention to detail was astonishing. Her mother was an artist, too, and she always hoped that Zahra would be equally artistic. But Zahra only ever wanted to ride the horse, not immortalise its image on paper.’
‘The greatest gift a parent can give is to allow a child to be who they want to be.’
Her wistful tone caught his attention.
‘You have told me about your father, but nothing about your mother.’
‘My mother died just after I was born.’
‘So your sister—?’
‘Yasmin is my half sister. Her mother was a model who caught my father’s attention for a short time. She left when Yasmin was five and we haven’t seen her since.’
It was a brief delivery of the facts, devoid of emotion, but he could imagine how much emotion was simmering below the composure that seemed to be part of her. She’d learned to hold it all in, he thought. Learned to feel without expressing the feeling.
‘But you said you cared for your sister. How is that possible?’
She sat without moving, her gaze focused on the horse’s ears. ‘It’s possible.’
‘You were seven and she was five.’
‘We learned what we had to learn.’
The mare, perhaps sensing the sudden tension of her rider, threw up her head and he saw Layla’s fingers whiten on the reins.
‘She is the most reliable horse in my stables, but if you feel unsafe you can always grab a piece of her mane.’
‘It doesn’t seem fair to make her suffer just because I’m nervous.’ But her fingers closed gently and carefully around a hunk of the mare’s mane.
Watching her, Raz felt himself harden. His gaze focused on those slim fingers. Heat shot through him as he remembered how those fingers felt against his skin.
He lifted his gaze from her fingers to her face, studying the curve of her cheek and the sweep of her inky lashes, and she must have felt his scrutiny because she turned her head and her eyes met his.
Raz felt that look all the way through him.
‘Can she gallop yet?’ Zahra cantered up, disturbing the moment, glued to the back of her horse as if she’d been born in the saddle, Isis and Horus running by her side. ‘I want you to learn fast, Layla, so we can ride together. Isis and Horus can come with us too. They love it when we gallop.’
Layla had switched her attention from the horse to the dogs and Raz frowned.
‘The dogs make you nervous?’
‘I’m worried they might upset the horse.’
Her response made perfect sense, but he sensed something more and wondered if she’d been bitten as a child. That would certainly explain the fear he saw in her eyes whenever his dogs were nearby.
‘Did you keep Saluki as pets when you were young?’
‘No.’ Her lips were bloodless, her slim fingers clenched in the horse’s mane. ‘Not as pets.’
‘Layla...’ He rode closer to her, his knee brushing against hers. ‘If the dogs are a problem you must tell me.’
‘The dogs aren’t a problem. Zahra adores them and they adore her. They also guard her, which can only be a good thing.’
Her response was neutral and composed but he glimpsed something in her eyes—a shadow of something so dark and bleak he wasn’t sure he even wanted to explore it further. He wondered again what her life must have been like. What it would have taken to drive someone like her to cross the desert to seek out a stranger.
The more he knew her, the more he realised that such impulsive behaviour was completely out of character. She was a woman who thought everything through, who relied on evidence to make decisions, and yet she’d chosen to risk everything to find him. She’d known nothing about him, and yet she’d preferred to commit herself to the unknown than spend another day in her old life. So what did that say about her life?
‘When can we gallop?’ It was Zahra who asked the question, circling her pony like a polo player as she waited impatiently for her father.
‘Later,’ Raz told her. ‘I don’t want to leave Layla.’
‘Don’t worry about me. I think I might have had enough for one day and so has this poor horse.’
Apparently relieved to have an excuse to finish, she rode the mare to a halt the way he’d taught her.
‘You two gallop and I’ll go back. See you at the stables. But I think I’ll walk and lead her, if that’s all right.’
Before she could dismount, Raz reached out and covered her hand with his.
‘You are doing well.’
Her mouth twitched at the corners. ‘We both know I’m doing terribly,’ she said dryly, ‘but thank you for saying that.’
‘It’s always harder to learn as an adult than as a child because your awareness of danger is more sharply focused.’ And he suspected her awareness of danger was even more sharply focused than most. He watched her face, searching for clues, but her expression didn’t change and he released her hand. ‘Go and relax. Abdul will show you my library.’
‘You have a library?’ Her face brightened but Zahra shuddered.
‘Who wants books when they can have horses?’
