The Sheikh's Untamed Bride: Lost to the Desert Warrior / Sheikh in the City / Her Ardent Sheikh. Jackie Braun

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      ‘Has there been any news of my sister?’

      His gaze was shuttered. ‘None.’

      Just one word but it made her feel sick, and suddenly all the daydreams were blown out of her head and replaced by stark reality. ‘That’s bad, isn’t it? We should have heard something.’

      ‘If she is alive then Salem will find her.’

      ‘If?’

      ‘Do you want false hope? Because I won’t give you that. Lies destroy trust and create nothing but confusion. But until we have evidence that something has happened to her I urge you to stay positive. We have to hope she will have found a way to survive.’

      ‘How? Neither of us spent any time in the desert when we were growing up.’

      ‘And yet Tazkhan is ninety-eight percent desert. How can you serve a country when you are ignorant of the life its people lead?’

      Thrown off balance by that unexpected attack, Layla sat up, clutching the silk sheet to her neck as she rose to her own defence. ‘That is an unfair accusation. You know nothing of the life my sister and I led.’

      ‘You were in a position of power and lived a life of luxury. There must have been something you could have done.’

      Luxury? ‘There was, and I did it. I came to you.’

      Cold black eyes met hers. ‘I am supposed to believe that was an altruistic act on your part? How do I know you didn’t just have the sense to move to the winning side?’

      It was like being slapped.

      ‘If you believe that, why did you marry me?’

      ‘Because your motivation has no impact on my decision. I am doing what is best for Tazkhan. My personal wishes have no part in this.’

      ‘So when we were in bed you had to force yourself to do those things to me?’

      His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. Two streaks of colour highlighted the hard, savage lines of his cheekbones. ‘For a virgin whose first glimpse of a naked man was from behind a curtain, you suddenly have a great deal to say for yourself.’

      She had the distinct impression that he was trying to pick a fight, and suspected she knew why. It was logical, wasn’t it?

      ‘You’re angry,’ she said softly, banking down her own feelings to try and understand his. ‘You feel guilty and it’s making you angry.’

      ‘You know nothing about my feelings, Princess.’

      ‘And you know nothing about my feelings, either. I may be inexperienced, and I admit I’m shy, but don’t ever assume you know what my life has been. The reason my sister and I have no knowledge of the desert is not because we weren’t interested but because we were unable to leave the city walls.’

      ‘Did you ever try?’

      Her heart was pounding. ‘Yes.’

      ‘And what happened?’

      Her mouth was dry. The sudden emergence of a memory she’d squashed down brought sweat to her palms. ‘There are some aspects of our past neither one of us wishes to revisit. I think we should both accept that and move on.’ Her desperate statement earned her a long, questioning look.

      ‘If your sister is in the desert then Salem will find her.’

      He blew out the candle, there was a rustle of clothing as he undressed, and then he joined her in the bed.

      Rigid with discomfort, heart pounding, Layla shot to the furthest end of the bed and lay still, hardly daring to breathe in case breathing brought her into contact with him. ‘You think I came here to guarantee the continuation of some glittering lifestyle you’ve imagined for me and yet, feeling that way, you still want to share the bed with me?’

      ‘We’re married.’

      ‘But you don’t trust me.’

      ‘Sharing a bed doesn’t require trust, Princess.’ Reaching for her in the darkness, he hauled her against him. ‘It simply requires sexual chemistry, and fortunately we have plenty of that.’

      Layla wondered if he could feel her shivering. Wondered if he could feel the heat of her skin and the rapid beat of her heart.

      She wanted to ask why he had to blow out the candle before he shared a bed with her, but before she could form words his mouth slanted over hers and his hand slid into her hair. As a concession to the desert heat and the sand she’d tied it back, but he freed it instantly and it tumbled down over her shoulders.

      She felt his hand, warm and strong against her bare back, as he pressed her down onto the soft mattress and shifted her underneath him. She felt the weight of him, the strength and the power. Felt his lips move over hers in a kiss that created an instant response. It started deep inside her and then exploded outwards.

      Intense excitement shimmered over layers of despair.

      Was this how their relationship was going to be?

      Days where they saw nothing of each other and nights spent in the dark?

      Intimate strangers?

      She wondered how his kiss could make her melt when her emotions weren’t involved and tried to control her response to him, but her nerve-endings were already on fire and the erotic skill of his mouth left her with no choice but to kiss him back.

      His mouth closed over her nipple and Layla moaned. Just like before, he used all his skill and knowledge to drive her crazy, until she was hot and desperate. The only difference was that this time she knew. This time she knew what was to come. And when he surged into her with sure, deep strokes she climaxed instantly, and again and then again, while he possessed and controlled her totally.

      Afterwards Layla lay there, numb. Maybe she should be grateful for the protection of the darkness, but she wasn’t. The knowledge that he could only make love to her if it was in the dark hurt her more than she would have thought possible.

      She turned her head, plucking up the courage to talk to him about it, but before she could speak she heard a high-pitched cry coming from close by.

      Layla sat upright, heart pounding. ‘What’s that? It sounded like a child.’

      And then the screams began.

      * * *

      Raz moved quickly, his hand on the knife he kept strapped to his belt whenever he was in the desert.

      The screams sliced through him, ripping his composure into shreds, because he knew who screamed.

      His strides fuelled by a primal need to protect, he tore open the entrance of the tent next to his and saw the child sitting upright, eyes staring in terror, forehead glistening with sweat, as she screamed while Nadia stood there helplessly, hopelessly out of her depth.

      ‘I can’t get her to stop.’

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