Her head lifted and she looked at him, tears spilling out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. She made no sound, but simply blinked a few times and then brushed her tears away impatiently. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘You need to go back to sleep,’ he said roughly. ‘Whatever it was all about, the memory will have gone in the morning.’
‘Not all memories are so easily erased.’ She spoke softly, as if afraid that to raise her voice might make those memories still more vivid. ‘I thought this would be a fresh start. I thought that I could finally leave it all behind. But it comes with you, doesn’t it? It follows you everywhere, because it’s been there for so long, it’s part of who you are.’
Was she talking to herself or to him?
Was she seriously expecting some sort of response?
Karim had no idea what she was talking about, but it sounded disturbingly like the sort of touchy-feely conversation that a woman ought to have with another woman. ‘What follows you?
‘The past. It’s always there. You can never shake it off.’
Confronted with a more clearly defined problem to deal with, Karim relaxed slightly. It was obvious that she regretted the things she’d done in her past, and that was hardly surprising, given just how wild her behaviour had been. Evidently her impending marriage to the Sultan had made her wish that she’d behaved with a little more restraint in her youth, which meant that it was her conscience that was disturbing her sleep.
‘The past is the past.’ Wishing that she’d stop shaking, he kept his words blunt. ‘There is never any point in looking back. It’s over and done with.’
‘That isn’t true. Don’t you ever look back?’
‘No,’ Karim said shortly. ‘The past is over. The future is the only thing that matters. And your future requires us to leave at dawn. If you don’t get some sleep soon you’ll be too tired to travel.’
‘I don’t want to go back to sleep. Can we leave now? I’m scared, Karim.’
‘We’re not leaving. Lie down.’
For once, she didn’t argue. Like a child obeying a parent, she lay down, and Karim stared at her shivering, half-naked form with exasperation. Wasn’t she going to pull the covers up?
After a moment’s hesitation he reached out and tugged the sheet up over her shoulders, covering her body and at the same time pondering on the entirely new experience of tucking a beautiful woman into a bed that he wasn’t sleeping in. As he rose to his feet her hand shot out and her slim fingers gripped his arm again.
‘Will you stay? Just for a moment.’
Her fingers tightened on his arm and he covered them with his own. Her slender fingers were freezing cold, and he rubbed his hand over hers and then realized what he was doing and released her instantly. ‘You’ll be fine now.’
What was he doing?
What instinct had driven him to offer comfort when he was so inexperienced in that particular skill?
‘Please stay with me. Just for a minute.’
For what purpose? What did she want from him? His eyes raked over her shivering body, but there was nothing in the least seductive about the way she lay. She looked fragile and vulnerable as she huddled under the sheets, as if she were trying to make herself as small and insignificant as possible.
‘What are you afraid of?’ Irritated with himself for responding to her, his voice was rougher than he’d intended. ‘Tell me.’
‘Why—so that you can take out your gun and shoot it?’ She gave a shaky laugh, released his arm and curled up into a ball. ‘There are some things that even a bodyguard can’t protect you from, and this is one of them. You’re right. You can’t help me, Karim. Go back to bed. I’m sorry I disturbed you.’
He had her permission to leave.
So why was he still standing there?
Something about her weary dismissal made it impossible for him to walk away, and the urge to help and protect her was so shockingly powerful that he almost laughed at himself. So he wasn’t entirely immune, then. Just like his father before him, he was a man capable of being manipulated by a woman’s tears.
‘There is nothing to be afraid of.’ He was impatient with himself, not her, but he saw her withdraw.
‘I’m fine, Karim. Go to bed.’
Frustrated by his inability to do exactly that, Karim frowned down at her, studying the dark shadows under her eyes and the almost translucent skin over delicate bones. She didn’t look fine. She looked like a woman who was hunted by demons. And she was a woman of contrasts—strong and feisty one minute, vulnerable the next. How had a woman who looked as though a gust of wind could snap her in two, shown such resilience in the desert? ‘Was your dream to do with your uncle?’
‘Can we talk about something else? Anything.’ Sounding more like a nervous child than a grown woman, she huddled under the covers. ‘It would help a lot if you could just talk about something normal for a moment. Tell me about your family.’
‘My family is not normal,’ Karim said dryly. ‘I suggest you pick a different topic.’
‘You pick a topic.’
‘I’m not good at small talk.’
‘Then it will be useful to practice. Come on, Karim. Talk to me.’
Talk? Telling himself that the sooner she settled down the sooner they’d both get some sleep, Karim sighed and rubbed his fingers over his temple. ‘Have you ever heard of dune driving? Because the next stretch of our journey has some of the best dune driving in Zangrar. Steep dunes, spectacular views, exciting drops. It’s the best adrenaline rush in this part of the world—’ he broke off, surprised at himself. Why had he picked that particular topic? What was it about Alexa that made him remember the heady days when pleasure had come before responsibility?
‘Don’t stop,’ she murmured. ‘I want to hear more. You did it when you were young?’
‘As soon as I could drive.’
‘And did the Sultan go with you?’
Karim stilled. ‘Always you ask about the Sultan.’
‘I’m trying to build up a picture.’
‘Yes,’ Karim said finally. ‘Before life became too serious to allow such frivolities, the Sultan had a passion for dune driving.’
‘What does it involve?’
‘Driving up the side of a dune and plunging over the top. A bit like a roller coaster, only less predictable and more hair-raising. And a great deal more uncomfortable if you topple the vehicle.’
‘Did you?’
‘A few times.’ Karim started to smile and then stopped himself, remembering that this was supposed to be distraction therapy, not a trip down memory lane.
‘It sounds dangerous.’ Her voice was sleepy. ‘I’m surprised the Sultan was allowed to do that if he was the heir to the throne. Wasn’t he surrounded by people telling him what to do?’
‘He was sent to boarding school at the age of seven, and from there went straight into the army. The time he spent in Zangrar was very precious because no one really bothered with him.’
It was a long time before she spoke. ‘That’s a very young age to leave your parents.’
‘It is the custom.’
‘I wouldn’t do that with