her feel but because she wanted to call Kalila and make a few enquiries of her own.
It wasn’t right that Kalila should be used as a pawn in their fight.
‘You and I were friends once—’ He turned his head to look at her and just for a moment she saw the past in his eyes. ‘Good friends.’
What he’d introduced into the room was more frightening than any dragon. ‘Mal—’
‘I’m asking you as a friend. There are few enough people I can trust in my life but, despite everything, I do trust you. Whatever happened between us, I still trust you and I realise that this situation is potentially awkward—’ His dark gaze fastened on her like some sort of high-tech imaging device designed to penetrate flesh and bone in the search for truth. ‘If you still had feelings for me I would never have involved you. You ended our relationship so I assumed that wasn’t the case. If I was wrong about that then tell me now.’
Tell him what? That she dreamed about him every night? That she found it hard to focus and that it took her twice as long to accomplish simple tasks because she was preoccupied? That in the months following their break-up she’d barely recognised the woman she’d become?
Even now, she sometimes looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back at her.
Avery’s mouth was dry. Her heart was bumping against her chest so hard she was surprised he couldn’t see it. ‘If you still had feelings for me—’ No mention of his feelings. Which shouldn’t have surprised her and certainly shouldn’t have hurt. If he’d had feelings for her he wouldn’t have been able to move with such ease from one woman to another.
‘I don’t have feelings.’ She adopted the chilly tone she used when men tried to get too close to her at functions. ‘My inability to help you has nothing to do with our history, but the fact that I have no useful information.’
‘What did you talk about when you were together?’
‘I can’t remember—’ she didn’t want to remember because talking to his bride had been like sticking knives into herself ‘—shoes, dresses and education for women. She never talked about running away.’ Or had she? The ghost of a memory flitted into her head. Avery gave a tiny frown and Mal spotted the change in her instantly, pouncing like a lion on a gazelle.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ She shook her head. ‘I—’
‘“Nothing” is all I have to go on right now.’
‘Is there a chance she might have gone into the desert?’
Mal’s expression changed. His eyes were shuttered. ‘Definitely not. Kalila hates the desert.’
‘I know.’ And she’d always thought it really odd that a girl raised in that landscape could loathe it. Even more strange that she’d agreed to marry a man whose love for the desert was widely known. ‘She told me how much it scared her—’ She broke off, an uncomfortable memory pricking her conscience.
His eyes narrowed as he registered the guilt in her face. ‘And what advice did you offer on that topic?’
Avery felt her cheeks heat. ‘We might have had a conversation about facing our fears,’ she muttered. ‘Just a short one.’
His mouth tightened ominously. ‘And?’
‘And nothing. I just said that the best way to get over being afraid of something is to just do it, which actually is very sound advice, but obviously that comment wasn’t directed specifically at her.’ But what if she’d taken it that way? Avery shifted uncomfortably, her guilt trebling as she watched the colour drain from his handsome face.
‘You told her that she should go into the desert alone?’
‘No, of course not!’ But Avery felt a stab of panic as she realised how her words could have been interpreted. ‘I just suggested that sometimes it’s empowering to do something that scares you. That you learn you can cope with it and you come out stronger.’
‘Or you come out dead. Do you realise how dangerous the desert is for someone with no experience or expertise in desert survival?’
‘Yes! And I don’t know why you’re blaming me!’ Her voice rose. ‘I did not tell her to go into the desert alone.’
‘Then let’s hope that isn’t what she’s done. She would last five minutes.’ Anxiety stamped into his features, Mal pulled out his phone and made a call, talking rapidly to his security team while Avery stood there, an agonized witness to his obvious worry and feeling hideously responsible for the part she’d possibly played.
What if Kalila really had taken her literally and gone into the desert alone?
Surely she wouldn’t have done anything so foolish. Would she?
Her brain argued it back and forth and eventually she pressed her fingers to her forehead as if by doing so she might be able to shut down her thoughts. ‘Look, maybe I can—’
‘You’ve done enough. Thank you for your help. You’ve told me all I need to know.’ He was chillingly formal. There was a hardness to him that she didn’t remember ever seeing before. He was tough, yes, and she knew that most people found him intimidating, but she never had. And he hadn’t found her intimidating either. Unlike many men, he hadn’t been daunted by her success and that had been so refreshing.
‘This is not my fault.’ But her voice lacked conviction because deep down she was afraid that it was at least partially her fault. Had she unwittingly put the idea in Kalila’s head? ‘And if that is what she’s done, then maybe it isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe this will build her confidence in herself. I think it was very brave of her to go into the desert if that is what she’s done …’ Her voice tailed off as he turned on her savagely.
‘Brave?’ Contempt dripped from him. ‘Will you think she’s “brave” when she’s been bitten by a scorpion? Caught in a sandstorm? Drowned in a flash flood?’
Guilt ignited her own temper. ‘Maybe she’ll surprise you. And maybe the experience will be the making of her. Maybe it will give her the courage to stand up for herself and tell you what she wants. And whether it does or doesn’t, you should ask yourself why she finds the prospect of those things less scary than marriage. She’s run into the desert to get away from you, Mal!’
The truth earned her a fierce look. ‘You are assuming that her disappearance is some sort of statement about our relationship.’
‘Well, that’s how it looks from where I’m standing.’
‘She agreed to this. She wanted this marriage.’
‘How would you know? Did you even ask her? Or did you “assume” like you always assume. Maybe she didn’t want this marriage and she was afraid to tell you.’ Avery knew she should stop talking. Stop now, before something was said that couldn’t be unsaid, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘Maybe marriage was the last thing she wanted.’
‘Not every woman sees marriage as captivity to be avoided at all costs.’ His eyes clashed with hers and her heart started to race because suddenly they weren’t talking about
