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She recognised the rider instantly. How could she not? That proud posture and uncovered raven hair was too unique to belong to anyone else other than the Sheikh. But as the horse drew closer, with a slowing of hooves and a snorting of flared nostrils, the only thing Hannah could see was the naked fury on her husband’s face. With a thunderous expression, he leapt from the saddle, his hands reaching out to grasp her wrists as if he was afraid she might suddenly fall to the ground. Narrowed ebony eyes searched her face as he levered her closer so that she could smell the sweat and sandalwood of his heated body.
‘I hope by the rise of the desert moon that you are not hurt,’ he gritted out.
She nodded, wondering if he could feel the wild race of her pulse beneath his fingers. ‘I’m fine.’
‘No. You are not fine,’ he bit out. ‘I’ll tell you exactly what you are. You’re a fool, Hannah. What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d get up to watch the sunrise,’ she said, aware of how lame it sounded.
‘And where the hell were your security detail?’ he demanded.
A little shamefacedly, Hannah shrugged. ‘Last night, I told them I was going to have a lie-in and didn’t want to be disturbed. I left them a note.’
He gave a long, low curse in his native tongue. ‘So why were you wandering around the desert on your own?’
‘I told you. I wanted to see the sunrise.’
‘Don’t you know how dangerous it can be out here?’
Shaking herself free from his grasp and whipping her mobile phone from one of the pockets hidden in her silken robe, she held it up so that the silvery rectangle flashed in the sunlight. ‘I came prepared,’ she said triumphantly. ‘I brought my phone with me.’
His lip curled in derision. ‘You think that could save you from the strike of a rattlesnake or the sting of a scorpion?’
But suddenly, Hannah recognised from his anger that this wasn’t about the natural dangers of the desert, but about something else. Her eyes narrowed as suspicion began to form and to grow inside her head until she could no longer contain it. And neither should she. Wasn’t it time that she addressed the terrible question she suspected would always hover in the darkness of her husband’s mind, if she chose to ignore it? ‘Why, Kulal,’ she questioned quietly, ‘what did you think I was doing?’
Kulal saw from her look of comprehension that she had a very good idea what he was thinking, but he shook his head, unwilling to articulate the fears which had rushed through his veins like poison.
‘Nothing,’ he grated.
‘What? It’s not nothing, is it?’ she said again.
And suddenly Kulal was aware that she was the one doing the accusing and her aquamarine eyes were flashing with unaccustomed fire as she continued.
‘Did you think I couldn’t cope with the insecure future you were offering me and had decided to take the easy way out?’ she demanded. ‘Did you think I was going to dramatically wander out into the desert and kill myself? Is that what you thought, Kulal?’
He flinched beneath the cruel clarity of her allegation, but he couldn’t deny that it was rooted in truth. Distractedly, he shook his head. ‘I didn’t know what to think.’
‘Oh, yes, you did,’ she breathed. ‘You thought the worst of me because that’s what experience has taught you to do. But I am not your mother, Kulal—and I never will be. I would never harm myself, nor the child I carry—not in a million years. What in heaven’s name do I have to do to convince you of that?’ She sucked in a breath which was ragged and shook her head. ‘I think you need to stop blaming your mother for what happened.’ Her voice grew gentle. ‘She wasn’t bad, you know—she was ill. Very ill. And because it was a different time, things like that just got pushed into a corner. People never used to talk about mental health issues because they were seen as something shameful, but that would never happen now. Your mum would have got the treatment she needed.’ She swallowed. ‘And maybe she would be here now, awaiting the birth of her first grandchild.’
‘Hannah—’
‘No. I haven’t finished, Kulal.’ She shook her head and seemed to take a long time before whispering her next words. ‘You have to forgive her. And then let her rest in peace. Because until you do that, you can never find your own peace.’
He looked into her eyes and for once, he didn’t turn away from the raw emotion he could read in their aquamarine depths. He could see the pain and the consternation which had all but wiped out the hope which had once flickered there. And suddenly Kulal realised that, in trying to protect himself, he had risked everything. He had offered Hannah a life without feeling and without love. He had arrogantly expected her to accept the meagre crumbs of affection he was prepared to offer. More than that, he had regarded her with a suspicion which had no basis in fact.
Wouldn’t any woman in her position decide that she wanted no more of him and his controlling nature?
Was it too late for him to make amends?
Suddenly, he reached out and lifted her up into the saddle, her bewilderment muffling her objections as he jumped up behind her, one hand lying protectively around her belly while the other gripped the reins as he eased the horse forward.
‘Kulal!’ She seemed to find her voice at last. ‘What...what do you...?’
But her words were lost on the desert wind as Kulal began to canter forward with the skill of a man who had ridden from the moment he could walk. Through the silken folds of her robe, he could feel the warmth of her body and sometimes the breeze tantalised him with the occasional drift of her scented hair. His throat grew dry. He thought of how he’d felt
during the last five days without her and suddenly Kulal did feel fear.
Fear that it might be too late.
