The Dreaming Of... Collection. Оливия Гейтс

get rid of it would be to acknowledge it, explain everything, and Ammar wasn’t willing to do that. Not yet. Not when this thing between them was so new, so fragile. So untested.

      At her apartment building on the Ile St-Louis he instructed Youssef to wait while he escorted her upstairs. Noelle glanced back at the burly man standing in front of her building, his arms crossed.

      ‘Who’s that?’

      ‘One of my security team. His name is Ahmed.’

      ‘Why is he there?’

      ‘To protect us.’

      She shook her head slowly. ‘I didn’t realise we needed protecting. You didn’t have a security team in the desert, did you?’

      ‘No, but I didn’t need one. It’s miles from anywhere.’ They’d reached the top floor and Noelle slowly unlocked the door to her apartment, her forehead wrinkled in a frown.

      ‘I don’t like it.’

      ‘I should tell you, I intend to keep Ahmed with you,’ Ammar said as she opened the door. ‘For your own protection.’

      She dropped her keys on the hall table and turned to him, eyebrows raised, expression guarded. ‘Do you actually think I’m in some kind of danger?’

      ‘No,’ he answered swiftly, ‘but it would ease my mind, and I have no intention of taking any risks with you.’

      ‘What kind of risks?’

      Ammar thought of some of the people he’d dealt with and shook his head. ‘Noelle, I was able to have you taken from your doorstep without anyone even noticing. I simply want you to be protected.’

      Her expression darkened, like a cloud had come over the sun. He shouldn’t have mentioned that, he realised. Reminded her of what he’d done. ‘That was you,’ she said quietly. ‘Am I in danger from you, Ammar?’

      Ammar felt as if he’d been punched in the chest. He felt, quite literally, breathless, no more so than when she gazed at him sorrowfully. It had been a genuine question. She was still waiting for the answer.

      ‘Do you think you are?’ he asked, his voice no more than a rough thread of sound.

      She stared at him and the soft line of her mouth trembled. ‘No,’ she said at last, but it had taken her at least ten seconds to reply. Ammar drew a ragged breath into his lungs. All the euphoric hope he’d been feeling at knowing she loved him, believed in him, leaked out of him, left him flat.

      ‘I see,’ he said quietly, and she bit her lip.

      ‘Ammar, I know I’m not in danger from you. Not … not the kind of danger that requires a bodyguard, at any rate.’

      ‘What kind of danger are you talking about, then?’ he asked evenly.

      Her eyes were luminous as she stared at him, her lip still caught between her teeth. ‘Nothing,’ she whispered, but he knew what she wasn’t saying. Of course he did. She was afraid he would abandon her again. Reject and hurt her, just as he had before.

      Every instinct in him reared up, urged him to cloak himself in cold anger. But he was different now, he wanted to be different, and so with effort he said, ‘I would never do anything to hurt you, Noelle. Never.’

      ‘I know you wouldn’t,’ she whispered, but again he knew what she wasn’t saying. You wouldn’t mean to.

      ‘I love you,’ he said, the words like jagged pieces cutting him up inside. He knew he sounded reluctant, grudging, but he meant every word. It was just so hard to say them. ‘Come here,’ he commanded gruffly and, with her eyes wide and dark, a frown still wrinkling her forehead, she slowly walked over to him. Ammar closed the last few inches, his hands curling around her shoulders, drawing her pliant softness to him. He leaned his forehead against hers, her hair whispering against his face, and breathed in the sweet feminine scent of her. ‘I love you,’ he said again, and this time it sounded better. As if he meant it, and was maybe even happy about it.

      She let out a trembling laugh. ‘Does it get easier the more you say it?’

      ‘A little bit.’ She didn’t answer, but he saw a tear form at the corner of her eye. ‘Oh, please, don’t,’ he muttered. He couldn’t bear the thought that he was still making her cry. ‘Don’t.’ And then he kissed her, brushing her lips softly against his, his thumbs catching the dampness of her tears.

      She kissed him back softly, a promise. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I have my own ghosts, Ammar. My own memories and fears. It’s not just you that has to learn to be different.’

      He’d never thought Noelle needed to change, yet it humbled him now to know she was trying, just like he was. Trying to trust. Wanting to love.

      ‘We’ll help each other,’ he said gruffly. He was still unused to these words, these conversations. So much emotion, so much painful honesty. As gently as he could, he eased away from her. ‘I should go. I have business to attend to.’ She nodded, her face shadowed once more, questions in her eyes. ‘Have dinner with me tonight,’ he said, and her expression lightened, if only a little.

      ‘OK.’

      He stared at her, words crowding his throat, words he was still afraid to say. He loved her; she loved him. Why couldn’t it be simple?

      Everything still felt difficult, impossible even, insurmountable obstacles strewn across the twisting path to their happiness. Secrets. Sins. Sorrows and fears.

      And when those emerged into the harsh and revealing light of day, Ammar wondered bleakly, what would be left? Would Noelle still love him? Would she even look at him?

      He was afraid to answer that question.

      With a jerky nod of farewell, he turned and left.