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‘Kasia?’ he whispered. ‘Is it you?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Yes, Raif, it’s me. Now, could you help me down? It’s been a long ride.’
The sound of her voice broke the spell holding him captive. And the longing, the yearning, the joy and the confusion suddenly crystallised into one unstoppable thought as he marched towards her and grasped her round the waist.
She rested her hands on his shoulders as he whisked her off the horse and cradled her against his naked chest.
‘You are well? The babies are well?’ he asked, the tremble of terror in his voice impossible to hide.
‘Yes, Raif, I’m okay, just a little tired.’
She was real and solid, but he could barely comprehend the joy of that—or the inevitable tug of arousal that would never die—around the rising tide of his fury.
At his brother.
His wife had ridden for two days through the desert. Against his orders. Putting herself in grave danger. And his brother had allowed it. Had facilitated it.
He swung round with his wife in his arms to see Zane strolling towards him.
‘Can you stand?’ he asked Kasia, his voice vibrating with fury.
She nodded, her eyes wide with confusion. ‘Yes.’
Putting her gently on her feet, he released her and marched to his brother.
‘You son of a bitch,’ he shouted in Kholadi, then heaved back his clenched fist and struck the Sheikh on the chin. The pain reverberated up his arm but he didn’t care as he heard his brother’s surprised grunt and watched him tumble backwards onto his rear end.
‘You dare to put my wife’s life in danger?’ he said, in Narabian this time as he stood over him. ‘She carries twin children.’
He heard the click of rifle firing mechanisms engaging, and the shouts as Zane’s men and his own drew their weapons.
‘Stand down,’ Zane shouted to his men, lifting his arm as he levered himself off the ground, rubbing his chin.
Fury still flowed through Raif’s veins. Until Kasia’s cry from behind him.
‘Raif, stop! What are you doing?’
Her fingers gripped his bare arm, the jolt of awareness drawing him back from the edge. He turned and gathered her into his arms. He cradled her cheeks in his palms, then pressed his face into that wild hair, inhaling the spicy scent of her, letting the longing flow through his veins.
‘Raif, you have to tell your men to lower their rifles,’ she whispered.
He lifted his head, nodded to his men. Who put away their weapons.
Zane’s hand touched his shoulder. ‘I have a message from my wife,’ he said, as he pressed his fingers to his torn lip, the slow smile on his face confusing Raif.
If there was anything amusing about this situation, he could not imagine what it was.
‘I’m so sorry, Zane. I should never have involved you in all this,’ Kasia said from beside him.
‘It’s okay, Kaz, we’ve always got your back,’ his brother said, with a familiarity that had Raif’s temper spiking again.
But the Sheikh hadn’t taken his gaze off Raif, and what Raif saw in his brother’s blue eyes wasn’t the anger or contempt he expected but something that looked strangely like affection and understanding.
‘What is this message?’ he snapped at his brother, hating it that he didn’t understand what was going on—not just with his wife and his brother but also within himself.
He’d almost started a war between their two nations by punching the Sheikh, but as he flexed his fingers, he knew he would do it all over again to protect Kasia from harm.
‘Cat said stop being an ass,’ he said, the smile that split his face only confusing Raif more. ‘And talk to your wife.’ Clicking his fingers over his head, he summoned his men to mount up. ‘Now, I must leave you two if we are to get back to our camp before nightfall.’
