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

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      ‘Of course. And I can’t see it being diplomacy, because my daughter is as outspoken as your sister.’

      That fact clearly amused him, and Layla thought about the times she’d had to haul Yasmin away from a situation before her comments created havoc.

      ‘You’re proud of your daughter.’

      ‘Very.’

      The contrast between his love for his daughter and her own barren childhood was so vividly accentuated that the breath caught in her throat. Wondering what was wrong with her that she could envy a child, Layla stepped away from him.

      ‘Thank you for the offer of riding lessons, but I don’t want to intrude on your time with Zahra.’

      He curved an arm round her waist, trapping her. ‘You’re still upset?’

      ‘No.’ All she had around this man were uncomfortable feelings. Feelings about him. Feelings about herself. She’d arrived here thinking she knew herself well and had discovered she didn’t know herself at all. It was like being inside the body of a stranger. ‘I just don’t want to intrude on your relationship with your daughter.’

      ‘You were the one who pointed out that you should be part of my relationship with my daughter.’

      Did it make her a bad person that it was almost too painful to watch? ‘You have a very special bond.’

      ‘A bond that will not be threatened or broken by the presence of another person.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘But that isn’t the issue, is it? Tell me what’s wrong.’

      ‘There is no issue. Nothing is wrong.’ She tried to walk away but he locked his arm tightly around her waist.

      ‘Your father wanted you to marry Hassan, so I assume from that your relationship with him was difficult. You don’t have to hide it from me. I want to know. All of it.’

      ‘Why? What difference does it make?’

      ‘As you just pointed out to me, keeping secrets isn’t going to do anything for the progression of our relationship.’

      Did he see a progression? This was a man who had loved his wife totally and completely. A man who had vowed never to love again. What progression could there be? She could have asked, but she wasn’t sure she could cope with the answer. They were together now, and nothing could change that.

      ‘My relationship with my father wasn’t just difficult, it was non-existent. You’re so proud of Zahra and you want the best for her.’ She stared at a point in the middle of his chest, trying to contain her emotions and relate only the facts. ‘My father was never proud of me. His interest in us extended no further than how useful we could be to him. He met Yasmin just four times in his life.’

      Shock flared in his eyes. ‘Four times? That is all?’

      ‘Five, if you count the day he died, when we were both hiding behind the curtain in his rooms.’ Layla was surprised by her sudden need to confide when she’d lived her life relying on no one.

      There was a long, tense silence. ‘I had no idea. I assumed—’ He broke off and rubbed his fingers over his forehead, apparently struggling for words.

      ‘I cared for Yasmin. We’ve never been apart. She’s the only person in the world I’ve ever been close to until—’ She stopped, feeling her face burn. Feeling his eyes on her.

      ‘Until me.’

      ‘I know we’re not close in that sense,’ she said quickly. ‘I know what our relationship is.’

      ‘Do you?’ His voice was soft and his eyes didn’t shift from her face. Slowly his hand dropped. ‘Then you’re making more progress than I, because I truly have no clue what our relationship is.’

      The air was thickened with a tension she’d never felt before.

      Something changed when she was with this man. Something she couldn’t put a name too, and didn’t understand.

      She wanted desperately to reach out to him, to touch him as he’d touched her, but she wasn’t sure he’d want that and didn’t have the confidence to risk being rejected.

      ‘You should go to Zahra.’

      ‘You will come too. It would please her if you were to join us.’

      ‘I really don’t—’

      ‘And it would please me, too. Get dressed and meet us outside. Zahra’s favourite treat is to have breakfast by the oasis, so we will do that and then fly the helicopter to Bohara—my home.’

      ‘You have a home?’ It was something else she hadn’t known about him. ‘All the rumours are that you live in the desert and move around for your own safety.’

      ‘I do live in the desert, and I do move around—because how else is a man expected to know his people if not by living among them? But I also have a place that is mine. A stud farm just inside the border with Zubran. On paper it is owned by the Sultan of that country, who just happens to be a friend of mine.’ When Layla stared at him he flashed her a smile. ‘I don’t spend all my nights in a tent. After the last few days I think you deserve a taste of luxury.’

      * * *

      ‘Just practise everything I taught you. I will keep you on a leading rein so there is no way she can run away with you.’

      ‘That’s comforting to know.’ Layla sat rigid on the calm, placid mare and Raz hid a smile, oddly touched by her determination to ride even though she clearly found the whole experience uncomfortable and unnatural. So far she had fallen three times, but each time she’d insisted on getting back on the horse.

      ‘If you want to give up, just tell me.’

      ‘I don’t want to give up. I won’t give up.’ Her jaw was set, her wrists inflexible as she gripped the reins.

      ‘Relax,’ Raz said mildly. ‘If you relax you will not fall.’

      ‘We both know I am going to fall whatever I do.’

      But still she got back up again. He wondered if that was a skill she’d developed during her loveless childhood. But it hadn’t been completely loveless, had it? She’d had her sister. The sister who was now missing.

      He made a mental note to try again to contact Salem, even though he knew such persistence would irritate his brother. ‘Relax your wrists and lower your hands slightly.’

      She did as he instructed. ‘At least it isn’t as far to fall as it is from your stallion.’

      ‘I promise I will not let you fall again. Don’t grip the reins so tightly—you’re pulling on her mouth.’

      ‘I am?’ Dismayed, she immediately loosened the reins and rubbed the mare’s neck by way of apology.

      He watched, intrigued by her and wondering how such gentleness could come from so much evil.

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