‘But when you are away who looks after her?’
He didn’t answer immediately. ‘She is with Nadia, who loves her very much.’
Nadia?
Layla felt as if she were walking on eggshells. This wasn’t the time to point out that Nadia had seemed out of her depth at the moment of crisis. ‘How have you kept Zahra’s existence a secret?’
‘I have the support of many people.’
‘But I don’t.’
He glanced at her with a frown. ‘What does that mean?’
‘No one speaks to me. This marriage has not been welcomed by the people who love you.’ Suddenly she felt overwhelmed by it all. By the distance that couldn’t be closed by physical intimacy alone. ‘How can this possibly work even on the most basic level? If you don’t trust me, why would they?’
‘Because this union was never about trust.’ He towered over her, powerful and imposing. ‘Most of them understand why we did this. They know it is the right thing.’
But not all of them.
Layla thought about the hatred she sensed in Nadia and wondered again if the cause of it didn’t go deeper than dismay at seeing the Sheikh marry the daughter of his enemy.
‘So what happens now? You have a daughter. Are you saying you don’t want me to meet her?’
‘For the time being, no. She is already having night terrors. I don’t want to risk making those worse by introducing you to her.’
His belief that she might make it worse hurt more than she would have thought possible, but how could she, of all people, blame a man for wanting to protect his child?
She’d never had that and she felt the loss of it keenly.
‘Of course, if that is what you prefer.’ Layla’s jaw was stiff, her thoughts a mess of pain as she thought what she would have given to have a father who fought so fiercely to protect her from harm. ‘But I don’t think it’s the right decision.’
‘You think you know better than me what is right for my child?’
‘No, what I think is that you don’t know me at all. You married me with a set of preconceived ideas of who I am, and I don’t blame you for that, but we’re married now and for this to work you have to start seeing me. The real me. I may not be able to swim or ride a horse, but I am good with children. I think if we are to become a family we need to start somewhere.’
‘We have started somewhere.’
His gaze shifted to the rumpled sheets and then back to her and she felt a tiny shiver run through her. Right now he was distant and intimidating but she knew it wasn’t fear that made her knees weak. Looking into those brooding black eyes, gazing at the dangerous curve of his sensual mouth, all she could think of was how it felt to have those lips on her body, how it felt when he filled her, possessed her, drove her mindless. Her skin still burned from his touch. Her head was dizzy with the memory of how he made her feel and she slid her fingers into her hair and shook her head in frustration.
‘A relationship cannot just be about sex.’
His eyes held hers, hard and unsympathetic. ‘It has to be, because I can give you nothing else.’
* * *
In the morning he was gone again.
If she’d thought their shared confidences would have moved their relationship forward, she was disappointed.
And this time when she heard children laughing she knew one of the voices belonged to his daughter.
It felt unnatural not to approach her and build a relationship, but he’d made his wishes clear on that matter so Layla sat in the shade on a smooth rock by the oasis and forced herself not to initiate contact with the little girl. And she seemed happy enough, playing with her friends, laughing as a child should laugh. Laughing without fear that the sound might draw unwanted attention.
The child laughed until darkness fell over the desert.
And then the screams started again.
Instinct drove Layla from her bed. Heart pounding, she came to a screeching halt outside the entrance to the tent.
He didn’t want her near his daughter, did he?
Unless she wanted to create a rift between them she had to respect that decision.
Torn, she stood there, waiting for the child’s screams to settle, telling herself that Nadia was there and would comfort the girl.
The screams grew louder and more desperate.
Sweat beaded on Layla’s forehead. Just listening to it stressed her so badly her heart raced. The sound reminded her so much of Yasmin in the early days, and to stand there and do nothing demanded a self-control and thick skin Layla didn’t possess.
Pressing her palm to her forehead, she breathed deeply and tried to calm herself. She told herself it wasn’t her concern, that if she suddenly appeared in the tent it would probably just frighten the child even more. But none of that reasoning did anything to ease her urge to do something.
Why didn’t someone else go to her? Where was Nadia?
Her will-power stretched taut, she lasted another five seconds before giving in. If Raz never spoke to her again, so be it. He hardly spoke to her anyway so it wouldn’t be that much of a loss.
As she pushed aside the flap she expected to see Nadia, but the tent was empty apart from the little girl who sat alone in the enormous bed, shuddering and screaming at some imaginary terror. At her feet lay the two Saluki, whimpering and looking at the child in alarm and confusion, as if they sensed a threat but couldn’t identify it.
Mouth dry, Layla stared at the dogs. Nothing but a screaming child could have propelled her forward.
Her heart was kicking at her ribcage—not just because to get to the child meant stepping over fur and teeth, but because the sound of the screaming brought back so many memories of Yasmin, terrified and clinging to her.
She threw one last glance over her shoulder, in case there was someone else who could do this, but there was no sign of Nadia or the bodyguards who were supposed to be in attendance.
Trying to look confident, she stepped over the Saluki as gracefully as a ballerina, braced to feel those sharp teeth close around her ankle.
The dog closest to the bed growled, a menacing rumble low in its throat, but it didn’t move from its position.
Taking that as a good sign, Layla crawled onto the bed and snuggled down with the child, stroking her back and talking to her, hoping desperately that the tone of her voice would do the trick and the child wouldn’t wake and realize that the comfort came from a stranger.
‘There, you’re safe now—and you need to go back to sleep.’ She talked nonsense, and then decided a story might help. ‘Once upon a time...’ She told the same stories she’d told her sister at the same age, remembered them word for word, and the familiarity of the ritual soothed her as well as the child. She talked quietly until the little girl’s breathing suggested she was deeply asleep while all the time the two Saluki lay by the bed, heads on paws, watching her.
Afraid that if she moved she’d wake the child, Layla stayed still, her fingers tangled in the dark curls that belonged to Raz Al Zahki’s daughter. Looking down at that sweet, vulnerable face, now smeared with tears, she felt her heart twist.
What had she been through?
What had she suffered?
She’d stay just a while. Until she was sure the girl was asleep.
Then she’d return to her bed and he wouldn’t be any the wiser.
*