The Sheikh's Untamed Bride. Jackie Braun
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‘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