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He turned back to look at Elena and swore softly when he saw her sway, her face drained of colour, her pupils dilated with terror. Without even considering what he was doing, or why, he strode forward, caught her in his arms and drew her shuddering body to his chest.
‘I killed it, Elena,’ he said as he stroked her dark hair. ‘It’s dead. You don’t need to be afraid now.’
She pushed away from him, her whole body still trembling. ‘What’s dead?’
Khalil stared at her for several seconds as the meaning of her question penetrated. He swore again. ‘I shot the snake! Did you not see it, but three feet from you, and ready to strike?’
She just stared at him with wide, blank eyes, and forcibly he took her jaw in his hand and turned her head so she could see the dead viper. She blanched, drawing her breath in a ragged gasp.
‘I thought...’
‘You thought I was aiming at you?’ Khalil finished flatly. His stomach churned with a sour mix of guilt and anger. ‘How could you think such a thing?’ He didn’t wait for her answer, for he knew what it would be: because you kidnapped me. ‘I promised you I wouldn’t hurt you.’
‘And you also said you didn’t trust anyone’s promises. Neither do I, Khalil.’ She tried to move away from him but she stumbled, her body still shaking, and Khalil pulled her towards him once more. ‘Don’t—’
‘You’ve had a shock.’ He sat down on the rock, drawing her onto his lap. It was a jolt to his system, to feel a warm body against his, yet it also felt far too good, familiar in a way that made no sense, yet felt intrinsically right.
He felt the stiffness in her body, saw the way she angled her face away from him and knew that just as he was she was trying to keep herself apart, stand on pride. He saw so much of himself in her and it unnerved him. It touched him in a way he didn’t expect or even understand. From the moment he’d met Elena she’d done things to him. Not just to his body, but to his heart.
Gently he stroked her damp hair away from her face. She let out a shuddering breath and relaxed against him, her cheek against his chest. Something deep and fierce inside Khalil, some part of him he hadn’t thought still existed, let out a roar of both satisfaction and need.
He tucked a tendril behind her ear just as he’d wanted to yesterday. Her eyes were closed, her dark lashes sweeping her pale cheeks.
‘You pointed that gun at me,’ she whispered, her voice sounding distant and numb.
‘I pointed it at the snake,’ Khalil answered. He knew she was in shock, trying to process what had happened, but he still felt a flash of anger, a stirring of guilt. He should have made her feel safer. She should have been able to trust him.
This, when you trust no one?
‘A black snake,’ he continued, keeping his voice steady and calm. ‘They can be deadly.’
‘I didn’t even see it.’ He thought she was recovering from the shock but then she let out a little shuddering sob and pressed her face against his chest.
His whole body jolted with the fierce pleasure of having her curl into him, seek his comfort. When had anyone ever done that? When had anyone wanted something real and tender from him? And when had he felt it in response, this yearning and protectiveness?
He could not remember a time, and it forced him to acknowledge the stark emptiness of his life, the years of relentless and ruthless striving, utterly without comfort.
‘There, there, habiibii. You’re safe now. Safe.’ The words were strange to him, yet he spoke them without thinking, stroking her hair, his arms tight around her. He could feel her shoulders shake and he could tell from her ragged breathing she was doing her best to keep herself from crying. His throat tightened with emotion he hadn’t felt in decades.
After a moment she pushed away from him, her eyes still dry, her face pale but resolutely composed.
‘I’m sorry. You must think I’m being ridiculous.’ She sat stiffly in his lap now, her chin lifted at a queenly angle. Already Khalil missed the feel of her against him.
‘Not at all,’ he answered. He suppressed the clamour of his own feelings, forced it all back down again. ‘I realise that a great deal has happened to you in a short amount of time.’ He hesitated, choosing his words with care, wanting and even needing her to understand. To believe him. ‘I’m sorry for the fear and unhappiness I have caused you.’
For a second, no more, he thought she did. Her face softened, her lips parting, and then she gave a little shake of her head and scrambled off his lap. ‘Even though it was entirely preventable?’
Their moment of startling intimacy was over and Khalil, half-amazed at his own reaction, felt a sudden piercing of grief at its loss.
* * *
Elena stood on the rock, trying to calm her thundering heart—and ignore the ache Khalil’s touch had created in her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been held so tenderly, spoken to so gently.
He’s your captor, she reminded herself grimly. He kidnapped you. But in that moment he’d been incredibly kind, and her body and heart had responded to it like a flower unfurling in the sunlight.
When had someone comforted her, touched her, understood her? She’d lived such a solitary existence, first as an only child, then as an orphan queen. The one person she’d let close had betrayed her utterly.
Just as Khalil will betray you. At least he was honest about his intentions.
Khalil gazed at her, his expression inscrutable, any remnant of tenderness erased completely from his harsh features. He glanced at her pathetic pile of plants and broken chair slats; the tiny flame she’d been kindling had gone out. ‘What on earth were you doing?’ he asked. He turned back to her, his mouth twisting with bemusement. ‘Were you building a fire?’ She didn’t answer and his mouth curved into a smile as he shook his head. She almost thought she heard admiration in his voice. ‘You were building a signal fire, weren’t you?’
Elena lifted her chin. ‘And if I was?’
‘It’s the most pathetic signal fire I’ve ever seen.’ Khalil smiled, inviting her to share the joke, his teasing gentle, compassion kindling in his eyes—a compassion she hadn’t seen before and hadn’t thought he possessed.
Elena felt an answering smile tug at her own mouth. It was pathetic. And it felt good to joke, to laugh, even with Khalil. Especially with Khalil. ‘I know. I realised it wasn’t going to work. It would be far too small if it had even caught at all. But I had to do something.’
Khalil nodded, his expression serious once more. ‘I understand that, Elena,’ he said quietly. ‘You know, we are a lot alike. We both fight against what we cannot change.’
‘It looks to me like you’re trying to change something,’ she retorted, and he inclined his head in acknowledgement.
‘Yes, now. But there was a time when I couldn’t. When I was powerless and angry but determined to keep fighting, because at least it reminded me I was alive. That I had something to fight for.’
And, God help her, she knew how that felt. The last four years, she’d felt that every day. ‘If you know what that feels like,’ she asked in a raw voice, ‘then how can you keep me prisoner?’
For a second, no more, Khalil looked conflicted. Torn. Then his eyes veiled and his mouth firmed, everything about him hardening. ‘We are not as alike as all that,’ he said shortly. ‘You might be a prisoner, Elena, but you are treated with respect and courtesy. You have every comfort available.’
‘Does that really matter—?’
‘Trust me,’ he cut her off, his voice cold now, implacable. ‘It matters.’
‘When have you felt like a prisoner?’
He stared at her for a long moment then gave a little shake of his head. ‘We should return to the camp.’
She still wanted answers, even if she shouldn’t ask the questions, shouldn’t get to know this man any more. Yet she did, because he understood her in a way no one else did. She wanted, she realised, to understand him. ‘Why did you come looking for me?’
‘I was worried about you.’
‘That I’d escape?’
A tiny smile lightened his features. ‘No, I’m afraid not. I was worried you might encounter a snake, and I was very nearly right. They like to sun themselves on these rocks.’
‘You did warn me.’
‘Even so.’
She shook her head, her throat suddenly tight because everything about this was so strange. Khalil was her captor. Her enemy. But he’d also treated her with more gentleness than any other human being that she could remember, and if he had a legitimate claim to the throne...
‘What is it, Elena?’ he asked quietly.
‘I don’t know what to think,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t even know if I want to ask you.’
‘Ask me what?’
She took a breath, let it out slowly. ‘Your side of the story.’
Something flared in his eyes, something she couldn’t name, but it had her body responding, heat unfurling low in her belly. Then it died out and his expression hardened once more. ‘You don’t want to change your mind.’
‘You don’t know what this marriage means for me, Khalil.’
