The Desert Bride of Al Zayed / Best Man's Conquest. Tessa Radley
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She stared at the lean hands on the steering wheel, and a bolt of emotion shot through her. No, it wasn’t better. The cold air did nothing to alleviate her inner tension. She swallowed. “Yes,” she said finally. “It’s cooler.”
A sideways glance revealed a hard, hawkish profile. The white ghutra should have softened his jagged profile; instead it added to the mystique and ruthlessness of the man. Her gaze lingered on the black agal—the cords that wound twice around his headdress and hung down his back. Beside his mouth, the deep, scored lines showed the strain he was under. Tariq must be terribly worried about his father…and then there was this situation that Ali and Mahood had created. She had to remember that if she felt tense, he was under infinitely more stress. Finally she turned her head away and tipped her head back again, closing her eyes, and tried to doze.
Jayne woke suddenly to find that several hours had passed and she was chilled. The desert sun had vanished and a white blanket of cloud stretched across the sky. The air-conditioning was chilly enough to have Jayne reaching into her bag for a lightweight merino cardigan.
“Cold?” Tariq fiddled with the air-conditioning controls, and the rush of cool air slowed.
“A little. Despite the heat that is probably out there.” She gestured to the desert that stretched out, bleak and inhospitable, in every direction.
“The cloud cover makes today cooler than normal.” Tariq dipped his head and glanced up through the windshield. “I don’t like the look of them, they’ve been gathering over the last hour.” He slowed and examined a gadget that had to be a GPS.
Four-wheel-drive. GPS. What was she worried about? This was the twenty-first century. The desert was not as alien and threatening as she imagined. She was overreacting, allowing her dislike and resentment of Zayed to get to her. Jayne laughed. “Rain? Little chance of that out here.”
“The desert does get storms, not often but they happen. They can be devastating because the desert does not absorb the water. So it gathers on the surface until there is sufficient for floods.”
“Floods?” Jayne stared at the barren landscape and her apprehension crept back. Just enough to make prickles rise at her the base of her neck. “Hard to imagine.”
“Believe it. As much as water brings life, rain can wreak havoc.”
“Will we be able to reach Aziz before the rain comes?”
“Maybe. If it comes at all. The clouds may dissipate—not uncommon.”
“That would be a relief.” The prospect of a desert storm did not thrill Jayne. She stared out of the window at the clouds, then at the expanse of stony ground that stretched without end to the horizon. It gave the desert a foreboding feeling, even greater than it already possessed, and Jayne shivered.
Another hour passed. They’d stopped briefly to eat pita rounds filled with shredded lamb and lettuce and tomato and drink bottles of mineral water, before setting off again. Since the meal, Tariq had been silent, but Jayne thought that they’d picked up speed. The banks of cloud had been rolling, piling high into stacks that made Jayne’s insides twist.
“I hate this place.” Jayne’s tension spilled over. “I really do.”
“I know.” Tariq’s voice held a bleak quality that made Jayne give him a quick glance.
“You shouldn’t have made me come back to Zayed.”
“I needed you.”
Her heart missed a beat. In the past she would have killed for an admission like that. But Tariq had been more focused on his father, on the good of Zayed than on her. She’d been lonely, her heart bruised by his lack of care.
“To convince your father that you will be settled after his death?”
“In my country it is believed if a man has given all his children in marriage through the course of his lifetime, then he has successfully fulfilled the duty of his life. Our marriage is not what my father considers a real marriage, so he considers that he has failed to fulfill the duty of his life. He wants me to be happily married. He believes it is time for me to have a family, children.” Tariq sighed. “He’s even tried to use a go-between to offer a bride price…he’s been plotting to find me a second wife.”
Second wife. She should’ve expected this. But still her heart plummeted at the news. Tariq with a family. With children. Once upon a time that had been her dream. “He can’t do that,” she said. “Our marriage contract—”
“Forbids that. I know. And I have advised my father that we added a clause that I may not marry another woman while married to you.”
Jayne had insisted on it. Even young and desperately in love, she hadn’t been able to overcome her greatest fear: that one day her gorgeous Zayedi husband would find a more beautiful, more accomplished wife and wish to marry a second time. Not even the status of being the senior wife would have made up for that. She’d wanted to be his only love. Forever.
Sadly, she’d never considered requesting a clause that allowed her to divorce her husband without his consent. If she had, she’d never have needed to return to Zayed. Back then, lighthearted with love, she’d thought that her marriage would last longer than the sands of the desert.
“Your father couldn’t have been pleased.” Jayne guessed that was an understatement. The Emir would’ve been enraged. Why hadn’t he demanded that Tariq divorce her?
Immediately.
“No, he wasn’t.” Tariq’s reply held a certain wryness. “But at least it appeared to put a stop to his quest to find me a second wife although certain…complications…were caused by his enthusiastic matchmaking.”
“Serves him right! He never approved of our marriage. So don’t expect me to be a hypocrite and stay for the funeral after he—” she swallowed “—dies.”
“Why would I want you to stay for my father’s funeral?” Tariq looked away from the road ahead. The eyes that met hers were full of turmoil. “You’re not—”
The ring of a cell phone rent the air, interrupting what he’d been about to say. He hit the button where the phone rested in its housing on the dashboard. “Yes?” Tariq demanded tersely.
Jayne was relieved. There had been something in his eyes…
She suspected she wasn’t ready to hear what he’d wanted to say. Not here stuck out in the middle of this inhospitable terrain with nowhere to run.
When he ended the call, he said, “There is concern about the weather. We will stop at a Bedu camp not far from here to take shelter from the cloudburst that the meteorologists are predicting.”
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