she speak?
Was he waiting for her to say something?
And then, before she could decide whether to speak or not, he turned and strode out of the tent, leaving her alone.
HE RODE RAJA deep into the desert, trying to escape the weight of his feelings but failing, because wherever he went they followed. His mouth was dry with the bitter taste of betrayal, the past a deep ache inside him that wouldn’t heal.
There were so many issues demanding his attention, but the only thing on his mind was Layla.
He’d felt nothing but contempt for her family for so long that when she’d arrived in his camp and offered herself to him he’d treated her proposal with suspicion. Even when it had become clear to him that her life had been very different from the one he’d imagined for her, his feelings towards her hadn’t warmed.
But now?
The scent of her clung to his skin and her soft gasps echoed around his head, refusing to be silenced by his own vicious conflict.
As if sensing his tension, the horse under him stamped impatiently. Raz soothed him gently with his hands and his voice until Raja calmed and stood still.
He had a sudden vision of Layla smuggling the Kama Sutra from her father’s library before leaving the only home she’d ever known. He thought of her climbing onto a horse, even though she didn’t ride, and then going in search of him even though she knew exactly how he felt about her family.
And then he thought about her standing still and straight next to him, speaking her vows in the hope that the union would ensure the safety of her sister, and writhing under his hands as he’d shown her what her body could do.
The thought of it sent heat rushing through him and he cursed softly.
He told himself that respect and powerful sexual chemistry didn’t change the fact he wasn’t ready to feel anything for another woman. Nor did it change the fact that he didn’t want her feeling anything for him.
Nothing changed the fact that this marriage politically motivated.
Was she all she seemed to be, or was she a clever opportunist who had the sense to change sides for her own protection?
His suspicions were deep-set, rooted in a lifetime of bitter feud.
So why did the knowledge that he’d hurt her rub at his nerves like sand wedged in his boot?
Staring at the sunrise, he told himself it was a good thing.
He told himself that anger was a thousand times safer than those softer emotions that could fell a man faster than a samurai sword.
‘Your Highness.’
It was Abdul, never far from his side and as much a father to him as his own had been.
‘You should not be out here alone.’
‘I don’t appear to be alone.’
Ignoring the irony in his voice, Abdul touched his arm. ‘This is hard for you, but you did the right thing marrying her.’
‘Did I?’ He heard the harshness in his own voice and winced, because he wasn’t in the habit of revealing his weaknesses to those around him. ‘We need to keep an eye on Nadia.’
‘Yes. I can imagine she is very upset. But no doubt Her Highness will deal with that sensitively. She seems like a very sensible young woman.’
Sensible? Raz could have agreed with him, but he knew it wasn’t her logic or her ordered thought-processes that teased and tormented his brain.
It was something far more intimate and a thousand times more dangerous.
* * *
Layla awoke slowly, aware of the sounds of animals, the laughter of children, the hum of voices. None of them belonged to Raz.
The side of the bed where he would have slept was cold, the pillow smooth and untouched.
Her body ached from her night with him, making it impossible to blot it out or forget.
He’d come to her in darkness and then he’d walked away.
Had he known how his touch had made her feel?
Of course he had. His expertise had never been in question. From the first touch to the last, he’d known exactly what he was doing to her.
Layla rolled onto her back and stared up at the roof of the tent.
But as for the rest of it—as for how she felt inside and in her head...
How could he understand that when she didn’t understand it herself?
She’d thought she knew herself very well but it turned out she didn’t know herself at all, because she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling like that.
Sheltered by the silk sheets, she slid her hand over her breasts, still tender from the touch of his mouth and the roughness of his jaw. He’d touched her there and then he’d—
‘Your Highness?’ Nadia stood in the entrance to the tent, her expression frozen as she saw the clothes piled on the floor. ‘I have instructions to help you dress and fetch you anything you need.’
What did she need?
Layla had no idea. She felt like a jigsaw someone had dropped. She had no idea how to fit the pieces back together because she no longer recognised the picture. And she had no idea how to make peace with Nadia. It didn’t feel good to watch the other woman’s pain and know she was somehow the cause.
It was the first time they’d seen each other since the incident in the pool, but Layla decided that Raz had already said whatever needed to be said so didn’t raise the topic.
‘There is nothing I need, thank you.’ She watched as Nadia moved around the tent, placing food on the rug and laying out fresh clothes. She wanted to ask where Raz was, but didn’t want to reveal how much she minded his absence— especially not to this girl, who clearly resented Layla’s presence and wished she were anywhere but there.
Layla wondered again if she were in love with Raz herself. Was that the reason for the rigid expression and the fact she didn’t meet her eyes? Or was it because of who Layla was?
In the end concern for him overruled pride.
‘Have you seen His Highness?’
Nadia paused in the entrance of the tent. ‘The rumour is that he has gone to find Hassan and talk to him. If he is killed it will be your fault.’
The girl blurted out the words and then left the tent, leaving Layla alone with nothing but her conscience to keep her company.
The news that he’d gone to find Hassan
