The Sheikh's Untamed Bride. Jackie Braun

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СКАЧАТЬ you chose to swim in your dress,’ he breathed, and she shook her head.

      ‘I never intended to swim. I can’t swim. I was just going to dip myself in the water.’

      ‘Fully clothed?’

      It sounded ridiculous, spelled out like that, and her face turned fiery hot. ‘I thought someone might walk along and see me. The dress was ruined anyway so I thought I’d just keep it on and paddle.’

      ‘In the deepest end of the pool?’

      ‘I thought it was the shallow end.’ Layla glanced up at him, puzzled, and saw his eyes darken dangerously.

      ‘Why would you think that? Who told you it was the shallow end?’

      She wasn’t going to tell him that when there was already friction. ‘It was my fault,’ Layla muttered ‘I should have checked for myself.’

      Without speaking, he unfastened the back of her dress. ‘Take this off. Go to the other end of the pool where the water is only waist deep. You will be safe and undisturbed, I promise.’

      ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘There is a conversation I need to have and it would seem that it can’t wait.’ His voice vibrating with anger, he vaulted to his feet and strode back towards the tent.

      Moments later Layla heard his voice and winced, because it was obvious to her that however much Nadia had loathed her before this, she was going to loathe her a thousand times more by the time Raz had finished ripping strips from her in that icy voice of his. She thought she heard muffled sobs and closed her eyes, because the whole situation was turning into a complex mess and without the facts she had no idea how she was supposed to handle it.

      Taking refuge in the practical, she peeled off the soaked dress and forced herself back into the water again—more because she didn’t want to let fear beat her than because she wanted to wash. This time she was relieved to feel the bottom under her feet. As he had promised, the water only reached her waist and she washed herself quickly, still shocked by how close she’d come to drowning in this beautiful place.

      The sun sent sparkles of light dancing over the still surface of the pool. Somewhere nearby she heard children playing, their laughter cutting through the stillness of the baking hot air, and the sound surprised her because she hadn’t expected to hear children.

      She couldn’t think of the time she’d last heard children laugh like that. It reminded her of when Yasmin had been very young and Layla had been constantly putting her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles in case the sound drew unwanted attention. But here no one was trying to muffle the sound and the children played happily, unrestricted.

      Thinking of her sister brought a lump to her throat.

      Where was she now?

      If only she were at least alive, Layla would never complain about anything ever again.

      Listening to the children, she was tempted to go and watch them, but then decided she’d encountered enough hostility for one day. Instead she wrapped herself in the towels that had been left for her and walked the short distance to the tent, hoping that Nadia wouldn’t be there.

      Stepping inside, she stopped in surprise.

      She’d expected something basic, but this tent was not only fully furnished but luxurious, decorated in rich reds and deep purples. There was a seating area piled with soft cushions and a low bed covered in silk sheets, with a thick cover for cold desert nights.

      It was idyllic.

      It was—Layla swallowed hard—it was romantic.

      Someone had laid food on a low table near to the door, but Layla wasn’t hungry. She couldn’t even think about food after everything that had happened. Did Nadia really hate her so much she would want her dead? And what had Raz said to her that had caused her such distress?

      Feeling sick from nerves and oasis water, she pulled on the clothes and sank onto the cushions.

      Despite worry about Nadia, and anxiety for her sister, her mind was dominated by thoughts of the night ahead.

      She would have spent the day reading, but her books had been left behind at the first camp so she had nothing but her imagination to occupy her time, and by the time Raz finally appeared she was so worked up she jumped out of her skin.

      ‘You startled me.’

      His gaze rested on the untouched food and a faint frown touched his forehead. ‘You haven’t touched the food. Are you unwell after the incident earlier?’

      ‘No. I just wasn’t hungry.’

      ‘If you do not eat you will make yourself ill.’

      She didn’t tell him that she already felt ill. That nerves had created an uncomfortable lump in her stomach, leaving no room for food. ‘I won’t be ill. I’m very fit.’

      ‘But you can’t swim?’

      ‘There is nowhere to swim in the palace so I’ve never had opportunity.’

      ‘Then that’s something we must fix.’ A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. ‘Swimming in the oasis is one of life’s pleasures.’

      Her heart was pumping so fast she worried she was going to pass out, and when he took her hand and drew her towards him she stopped breathing.

      ‘I am sorry for what happened to you.’

      ‘Is Nadia—?’

      ‘I don’t want to talk about Nadia. She has no relevance to what is happening between us and I’ve dealt with her. Now you need to relax.’ His voice soft, he smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘You are very tense and there is no need to be.’

      Behind him, through the crack in the tent, she could see the sun turning dark red as it set and it shocked her because she hadn’t realised it was so late.

      ‘I’m not tense.’

      ‘Yes, you are, and that is hardly surprising.’ His fingers lingered in her hair. ‘This is not how you dreamed your wedding night would be, I’m sure.’

      ‘I never dreamed about it. I’m not a dreamy person, Your Highness.’

      ‘Raz.’ He let a strand of her hair twist itself around his fingers, frowning as she flinched away from him. ‘You don’t have to be afraid of me.’

      It wasn’t fear that made her stomach cramp, but she wasn’t sure what it was because it was a feeling she didn’t recognise.

      All she knew was that she’d never felt more uncomfortable in her life. He clearly thought she’d spent her formative years dreaming of weddings and happy endings whereas nothing could have been further from the truth.

      ‘I am not a romantic person,’ she reminded him. ‘I thought I’d made that clear. I hope that won’t be a problem. I assumed you wouldn’t want that.’

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