on paper was surpassed a thousand times by the power he commanded in person. They couldn’t tell you that those eyes were capable of seeing right through a person to the very centre of their being. They couldn’t tell you that meeting those eyes would make your heart thunder like the hooves of a hundred wild horses pounding across the desert plain.
She was fast realising that a list of dates and qualifications didn’t convey strength or charisma.
Unsettled that the facts had given her such an incomplete picture, Layla remembered what her sister had said about the rumours. That Raz Al Zahki was a man who knew women. Before he’d fallen in love he’d been wild, and afterwards he’d locked it all away. Every emotion. Every feeling.
‘How do you know me?’
‘I make a point of knowing my enemy.’
‘I am not your enemy.’ And yet she could hardly blame him for thinking that, could she? His family had suffered terribly at the hands of hers. They stood on opposite sides of an enormous rift that had divided their families for generations.
‘Which brings me to my second question—where is Hassan? Or is he so lacking in courage he sends a woman with his messages?’
Layla shivered, but whether it was his tone or his words that affected her she didn’t know.
‘I’m not here because of Hassan. I was with my sister, Yasmin, but I fell from the horse.’ She saw his beautiful mouth tighten. ‘I’m sorry—I—you have to help me find her. Please. She’s alone in the desert and she won’t have a clue how to survive.’ The thought filled her with despair but still he showed no emotion. No sympathy. Nothing.
‘So where is Hassan?’
‘He could be back at the palace, or he could be out there looking for us. I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know? And yet this is the man you’re supposed to be marrying in a matter of hours.’
And if Hassan found Yasmin first—
His words slowly seeped into her numb brain. ‘You know about the wedding?’
‘I know everything.’
‘If you think I want to marry Hassan then clearly you don’t know everything.’ The tent was dimly lit, but there was enough light for her to see the flash of surprise in his eyes.
‘How did you leave, if not with his consent?’
‘We escaped. My sister loves horses. She took the fastest horse in the stables. Unfortunately she omitted to tell me she couldn’t control him.’ Layla rubbed her palm across her bruised back. ‘He proved too much for both of us.’
‘Both of you?’ A dark eyebrow lifted. ‘You rode one horse?’
‘Yes. We’re not that heavy and we didn’t want to be separated.’ Layla didn’t tell him that she’d never ridden before. This man was renowned for his horsemanship. She had a feeling he wouldn’t be impressed by the fact she knew everything about the breeding history of the Arabian horse, but nothing about the reality of riding one. ‘Something scared him and he reared up. I fell and he bolted with Yasmin on his back. She won’t be strong enough to stop him. She’s probably fallen, too.’ Panicking, she tried to stand up again, but her body protested so violently she sank back onto her knees just as two large dogs bounded into the tent.
Terror sucked the strength from her limbs. She was at eye level with the two beasts as they came to a standstill, teeth bared.
Raz said something to them and they whimpered and sank down to their bellies, huge eyes fixed on him in adoration.
‘Saluki?’ The fear was so sharp Layla could hardly breathe. ‘You own Saluki?’
‘You recognise the breed?’
‘Of course.’ Her mouth felt as if she’d swallowed all the sand in the desert. If dogs could smell fear, she was doomed. ‘The Saluki is one of the oldest breeds in existence. They have been found in the Pyramids of Egypt, mummified alongside the bodies of pharaohs.’ She didn’t reveal that her familiarity with the breed came from a darker, more personal experience. An experience she’d tried to block from her mind.
‘You said you were escaping. What was your destination?’
‘You. You were my destination.’ Reminding herself that the dogs were unlikely to attack without provocation or command, Layla kept utterly still, watching the animals. ‘We were trying to find you.’
‘On the night your father died? From the lack of tears it would seem you have inherited his lack of sentimentality.’
Was that what he thought?
Shocked, Layla almost corrected him, but she knew this wasn’t the right time. Misunderstandings could be corrected later. Or maybe they didn’t even matter. ‘It was my father’s dying wish that I marry Hassan.’
The darkening of his eyes was barely perceptible. ‘So why come looking for me?’
She’d practised a hundred alternative ways to say what she wanted to say but every word vanished under that icy scrutiny. ‘You are the rightful ruler, but if he marries me that weakens your claim and strengthens his.’
There was a sudden stillness about him that suggested she had his full attention. ‘That still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.’
Only now did Layla realise just how much she’d been hoping he’d be the one to say it. He was praised for his intelligence, wasn’t he? Couldn’t he see for himself why she was here? Couldn’t he see the one solution that would solve this once and for all?
But perhaps he could see and chose not to look.
‘I don’t blame you for hating us.’ The words tumbling out of her mouth weren’t the ones she’d rehearsed but when she looked at him all she could think of was the loss he’d suffered. ‘If I could change who I am then I would, but I’m asking you to put that aside and do what needs to be done.’
‘And what,’ he prompted softly, ‘do you believe needs to be done, Princess?’
No man had ever asked her opinion. Not once since the day she took her first step to the day she and her sister had slid out of the window of their father’s bedroom. Not once had anyone treated her as anything but a weapon in the considerable armory of the house of Al Habib.
But this man had asked her.
This man was listening to her.
He was regal, she thought, proud and sure of himself. In that moment she caught a glimpse of why so many trusted him and protected him. He was as different from Hassan as the ocean from the desert.
‘You know what needs to be done. You have to take your rightful place. You have to end this before Hassan finishes what my father started. Before he ruins our country in the selfish pursuit of power...’ She paused, wondering whether to mention Yasmin again but deciding this man would be motivated more by his duty to his people than sympathy for her sister. ‘And to do that you have to marry me. Now. Quickly. Before Hassan finds me and takes me back.’
