Lost to the Desert Warrior

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘You did the right thing. I still can’t believe you rode my stallion.’ Raz shook his head and looked at her in naked disbelief. ‘How did you do that?’

  ‘I didn’t. I just sat on him. It was Zahra who rode him. It’s a good thing she takes after you.’

  There was a glint of anger in his eyes. ‘They arranged for me to be away last night. They arranged for you to be alone. If you hadn’t woken—’ He raked his hand through his hair, visibly tense. ‘Why did you? Did you hear something? Did they disturb you?’

  ‘No. I wasn’t asleep.’ She didn’t tell him she’d been lying there thinking about him. ‘I turned the light on to read and nothing happened. At first I thought it was the bulb and then I realised the whole place was dark and there were no guards. Just like that night—’ Realisation dawned and she felt the colour drain from her face. ‘Just like that night in the desert a few weeks ago.’

  ‘Yes. That was to have been their first attempt to take my daughter and use her as leverage against me, but you foiled that one, too, by climbing into bed with her. They didn’t anticipate that. They weren’t prepared for the two of you. But this time they were.’

  ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘I arrived in Tazkhan and had an illuminating conversation with the senior council members, all of whom were surprised by my arrival. As soon as I realised what had happened I returned as quickly as I could, but I was terrified I was going to be too late.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘You were so brave. You took my daughter into the desert and you took the dogs with you, and I know how much you fear them.’

  ‘Not any more. I took them because I thought they might protect Zahra and they did. They were unbelievably brave.’ She shivered as she relived those awful moments. ‘I didn’t know how two could possibly win a fight against four, but now I do. Isis and Horus love her so much they would have died for her, and that love gave them ten times the strength of Hassan’s dogs. I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Remembering moved her so much that tears sprang into her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. ‘Sorry—I think I’m just very tired.’ Embarrassed by her loss of control, she lifted her hand to brush them away, but he was there before her, his fingers gentle as he stroked away her tears.

  ‘You must be exhausted, and so stressed after everything that has happened.’

  ‘I’m just relieved. And worried about poor Isis.’

  ‘I am assured by the vet that she is going to be fine. And, on the subject of being fine, I have good news about your sister. Salem contacted me half an hour ago, when we were with Isis. He has Yasmin safe.’

  ‘Really?’ The tears still flowed and Layla wondered what on earth the matter was with her that she couldn’t get through five minutes without crying. ‘You’re sure? It’s really her?’

  ‘Salem says he has never met a woman who talks as much as she does.’

  ‘Then it’s definitely her.’ Layla was laughing with relief and happiness as she hugged Raz. ‘Thank you. You were right to have faith in your brother.’

  ‘So now we have your sister safe, Hassan and Nadia off the scene and Isis recovering, perhaps we can finally focus on our own relationship, habibti. There are things I must say to you.’

  Not now.

  She kept her face pressed to his chest so that he couldn’t see the change in her expression. She couldn’t cope with any more trauma in one night. Couldn’t cope with hearing him tell her again that he couldn’t ever love another woman.

  ‘There is nothing to say. And we ought to check on Zahra—’

  ‘Zahra is fine for the moment.’ He eased her away from him so that she was forced to look at him. ‘I have never felt fear as I felt it tonight.’

  Hearing the change in his voice, Layla pushed down her own feelings. It was selfish of her to think of herself when he was also in shock. ‘It must have been terrible for you, being so afraid for your daughter.’

  ‘I wasn’t only afraid for my daughter.’ He took her face in his hands and the expression in his eyes made her catch her breath.

  ‘Raz—’

  ‘Don’t speak.’ He covered her mouth with his fingers. ‘There are things I have to say and I need to say them without interruption. I owe you an apology.’ His words thickened. ‘You came to me that night in the desert and I was cold, distant and uncaring. I was so hard on you and it shames me to remember it.’

  ‘It shouldn’t. I thought your behaviour was very restrained in the circumstances.’

  ‘I should have asked more questions that night. I should have suspected that you had suffered great trauma. But I looked no deeper than the surface and I cannot forgive myself for that.’

  ‘I probably wouldn’t have told you even had you asked,’ Layla mumbled. ‘And you behaved very decently towards me, given everything my family has done to yours.’

  ‘I pride myself on being fair and treating everyone as an individual. You are not responsible for the sins of your family.’

  ‘But you didn’t know that. Given everything that had happened, you would have been less than human had you not had reservations about me. You were protecting your family and you would not be the man you are had you not done that. It’s one of the things I love about you.’ The words slipped out without thought and she saw his eyes darken. ‘Respect and admire you,’ she said quickly. ‘I meant that it is one of the things I respect and admire about you.’

  ‘Is that what you meant?’

  ‘Yes.’ Trapped, she averted her head, but he caught her chin in his fingers and gently forced her to look at him. ‘Raz—’

  ‘You were the one who insisted on honesty in this relationship. You’ve never been afraid to tell me the truth before. You weren’t afraid to tell me I was wrong to trust Nadia and that I shouldn’t have kept my daughter’s existence a secret from you. You weren’t afraid to ask about Nisa, even though most people dare not broach that subject with me. Why would you be afraid to tell me the truth about your feelings?’

  Why? Because she wasn’t sure she could handle his response.

  ‘Feelings were never part of the deal when we married.’

  ‘That is true. But life does not stand still—as we have both discovered. People change. Feelings change. Pain we believe we cannot endure we somehow learn to live alongside. Although I am pleased to have your respect and your admiration, I would so much rather have the first thing you were offering, habibti.’ His voice husky, he looked down into her eyes. ‘Tell me why you were awake last night. The truth.’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘Why couldn’t you sleep?’

  It was clear he wasn’t going to let it drop so Layla gave up, too wrung out to keep fighting him.

  ‘Because I missed you. Because I love you—’ It was a surprising relief to say it. A relief to finally acknowledge the emotions she’d been holding back. ‘I love you. I didn’t expect to, I didn’t think I could, but I do. And I wouldn’t have told you except that you forced the subject, and I hope it doesn’t make things awkward because it really shouldn’t.’

  ‘Why would it make things awkward?’

  Wasn’t it obvious?

  ‘Because I know you’re not capable of loving another woman. Our marriage was driven by political necessity. We both know that.’

  ‘It is true that it began that way, but sometimes it is less important how something begins, habibti, than how it ends.’

  Ends?

  It was shocking how quickly happiness could turn to misery. ‘You want to end it?’

  ‘No! I do not want to end it. Not ever. I’m trying to tell you that things have changed. Everything has changed. Including my feelings.’ His tone raw, he hauled her against him. ‘This is the most important conversation of my life and I’m making a mess of it. I’m trying to tell you I love you, too.’

  Layla was pr
essed against him and she could feel the strong thud of his heart against her cheek.

  His heart not frozen into ice but warm, healthy and capable of love.

  Heat spread through her, driving away the chill that had been part of her since her flight through the desert.

  Raz eased her away from him so that he could see her face. ‘I loved Nisa. That is a fact and it will never change. We met as children—grew up together.’ He frowned slightly, as if he’d never thought much about it before. ‘She was always part of my life. I don’t even remember either one of us making the decision to marry—it felt inevitable. And then when I lost her—’

  Layla slid her arms round him, feeling his pain as her own. ‘You honestly don’t have to talk about this.’

  ‘I want to. Since I met you it’s been easier to talk about it. I was trapped in my old life, clinging to memories because moving on without her felt too hard. And then I met you.’

  ‘That first night—’

  ‘I felt guilty.’ His voice was soft. ‘It felt like a betrayal. Not just because I was with you, but because that night was so special. I didn’t anticipate that what we shared would be so powerful. I rejected it precisely because the chemistry between us was so intense, habibti. I’d expected to feel nothing. Instead I felt deeply, and I didn’t know how to handle those feelings.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you to love me. I didn’t expect to love you,’ Layla confessed honestly. ‘I’ve never loved anyone except my sister. I’ve never looked at a man and felt anything until that night I met you for the first time. I’d never met a man like you. I’d never met a man who used his strength and power for good rather than personal gain.’

  ‘You were so brave, arriving with nothing but two books.’

  His eyes gleamed and she felt the colour darken her cheeks.

  ‘You’ve taught me everything. It would have been nice to bring something to this marriage and teach you something in return.’

  ‘You have.’ Lifting his hand, he touched her cheek. ‘You’ve taught me that life does not stand still. That love can come from unexpected places. That there is always hope. And you’ve taught me to love again, habibti. When you came to me I was so closed off. I couldn’t even think about allowing another woman into my life. But instead of putting on pressure you just accepted me as I was and didn’t try and change that.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to change it. I know you loved Nisa.’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve learned that loving you doesn’t diminish what I felt for her. It took me a while to accept my feelings for you without guilt. She was part of my past, but you are my future. I consider myself fortunate to have fallen in love twice in a lifetime when many do not ever find themselves in possession of that gift.’

  Layla swallowed. ‘I didn’t think I would. I didn’t grow up with expectations of love and happy endings. It just wasn’t what I thought about. When I came to you in the desert that night I wasn’t thinking about love. All I wanted from this marriage was your respect. I used you as an escape from the life I had and because I knew that without me Hassan could not rule, and he is not a man who should be in a position of power. I didn’t expect anything else. I didn’t expect you to notice so much about me and be so caring. You think you were hard on me, but there were so many times when you tried to make life easier for me. You noticed I was scared of the dogs and tried to keep them away from me—’ She choked slightly. ‘No one has ever done anything like that for me before. No one has ever wanted to protect me.’

  ‘I never cease to be impressed by your determination to confront everything you fear. Particularly riding my stallion!’

  ‘He was remarkably tolerant. I wonder if he somehow knew he was part of our escape.’ Layla gave a half smile. ‘And Isis and Horus came too.’

  ‘All your nightmares in one evening,’ Raz said dryly, but his hand was gentle as he stroked her cheek. ‘You are an example to all of us, habibti.

  ‘My biggest nightmare was that something might happen to Zahra. I love her, too. She is so confident and trusting, and I hated the thought of that confidence and trust being crushed.’

  ‘She told me you turned the whole thing into a game so that she wouldn’t be scared.’ He hesitated. ‘When I saw her a moment ago she asked me if she is allowed to call you Mummy.’

  ‘Oh—’ Emotion wedged itself in her throat. ‘But you—’

  ‘One of the biggest sources of my guilt—and believe me there are many—is the fact that I told you not to think of yourself as my daughter’s mother.’ His handsome face was paler than usual. ‘It was a terrible thing to say. I hope you will forgive me.’

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive. You were in the most awful situation, being forced to marry me and—’ Layla broke off, her vision blurred by tears. ‘Do you know what I think? I think I like what you said just now, about separating the past and the future. Can we do that? And if Zahra is thinking of me as her mother then the future is looking better all the time.’

  He hauled her close. ‘I didn’t think I would ever feel this happy. I didn’t think it was possible.’

  ‘Me neither.’ She hugged him tightly, feeling happier than she ever had in her life before. ‘I love you. I love you so much.’

  Raz slid his hand into her hair, his mouth close to hers. ‘I will never tire of hearing you say that.’

  ‘It was Avery who noticed the way I felt about you.’

  The corners of his mouth flickered into a smile. ‘Avery is a master at interfering in the lives of others.’

  ‘But in a good way. She was the one who encouraged me to just be myself. I was very confused. I knew I loved you and I didn’t know how to live with those feelings without sharing them with you. I didn’t know how to be with you. She was the one who pointed out that I should be myself. Just me. That you deserved to know the real me.’

  ‘And I fell in love with the real you.’

  Raz lowered his forehead to hers and she slid her arms around his neck, dizzy with the feelings inside her.

  ‘Could you say that again? Just one more time? I need to keep hearing it.’

  ‘I will be saying it many times. I love you. I will love you forever and always,’ he breathed, gathering her against him. ‘Enti hayati. You are my life, habibti.’

  * * * * *

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  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, she won’t sell?’ Raffaele Caffarelli frowned at his London-based secretary.

  Margaret Irvine turned her palms over in a ‘don’t blame me’ gesture. ‘Miss Silverton flatly refused your offer.’

  ‘Then make her a bigger one.’

  ‘I did. She refused that too.’

  Rafe drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. He hadn’t been expecting a hiccup like this at this stage. Everything had gone smoothly up until now. He’d had no trouble acquiring the stately English countryside manor and surrounding land in Oxfordshire for a bargain price. But the dower house was on a separate title—a minor probl
em, or so he’d been led to believe by his business manager, as well as the estate agent. The agent had assured him it would be easy enough to acquire the dower house so that the Dalrymple Estate could be whole once more; all he would have to do was to offer well above the market value. Rafe had been generous in his offer. Like the rest of the estate, the place was run down and badly needed a makeover, and he had the money needed to bring it back to its former glory and turn it into a masterpiece of English style and decadence. What was the woman thinking? How could she be in her right mind to turn down an offer as good as his?

  He wasn’t going to give up on this. He had seen the property listed online and got his business manager, James—who was going to be fired if this didn’t get sorted out soon—to secure it for him.

  Failure was not a word anyone would dare to associate with the name Raffaele Caffarelli. He was not going to let a little hurdle like this get in the way of what he wanted. ‘Do you think this Silverton woman’s somehow found out it’s me who’s bought Dalrymple Manor?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Margaret shrugged. ‘But I wouldn’t have thought so. We’ve managed to keep the press away from this so far. James handled all the paperwork under cover and I made the offer to Miss Silverton via the agent, as you instructed. You don’t know her personally, do you?’

  ‘No, but I’ve met her type before.’ Rafe curled his lip cynically. ‘Once she gets a whiff that it’s a wealthy developer after her house, she’ll go for broke. She’ll try and milk every penny she can out of me.’ He let out a short sharp expletive. ‘I want that property. I want all of that property.’

  Margaret pushed a folder across the desk to him. ‘I found some news clippings from the local village from a couple of years ago about the old man who owned the manor. It seems the late Lord Dalrymple had rather a soft spot for Poppy Silverton and her grandmother. Beatrice Silverton was the head housekeeper at the manor. Apparently she worked there for years and—’