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Breath held, her hands tightened on the back of the chair, he wasn’t sure if it was pride or paralysis that made her hold eye contact. It was definitely not good sense—that would have had her running for the nearest exit. Instead she tilted her head back, mirroring the tension he knew drew the skin tight across the angles and planes of his face.
He paused a few feet from where she stood and added in the same soft, deadly tone, ‘And you will not tell her our story.’ He could only imagine what Kayla would do with that sort of information. ‘Is that understood?’
‘Well, I don’t see what the harm would be,’ she began mutinously.
‘Stay away from Kayla, Abigail,’ he intoned grimly. Seeing her opening up to Kayla, all earnest eyes and the best of intentions, would be like watching a kitten ask advice from a tiger. The image in his head was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.
Refusing to categorise the feeling in his gut as protective, Zain zoned in on the practical measures he would need to put in place to protect Abby from Kayla, who would consider Abby, or anyone else that came between her and what she wanted, the enemy.
‘Why?’
The question floored him but before he could think of a suitable response a look of comprehension appeared on Abby’s face.
‘Oh, God, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking...you’re right.’
Zain made a non-committal sound in his throat, glad she had reached the conclusion but not sure how she had got there.
‘I wasn’t thinking.’
Slightly thrown by her abrupt capitulation Zain watched her lips twisted in a self-recriminatory grimace.
‘She must be devastated.’
‘She is, I’m sure.’ Though he imagined that fury was a more accurate description of Kayla’s likely reaction to having her position at the pinnacle of society being taken from her.
‘I won’t bother her, I promise. It must be a terrible thing to lose your husband so young... I can’t even begin to imagine.’ She lifted her hand to her hair. ‘Could you wait a minute while I tie it back?’
His eyes moved down the golden red waves. ‘Your hair is spectacular just as it is.’ It was no less than a statement of fact. ‘And no one will be offended no matter how you appear—most women in Aarifa stopped wearing the veil a generation ago...a few of the older or more conservative do when they go out in public but it is their choice. So just relax.’
* * *
It took Abby a few moments to recover, not just from her reaction to having him call any part of her spectacular, but also to the flash of sense-incinerating fire she had seen in his eyes that had sent her heart rate crashing through the ceiling.
‘Relax...?’ She managed a laugh at the idea. ‘I’m living in a velvet-lined box.’
‘I can have you moved to another room.’
She gave a sigh of frustration. ‘Not the room! I mean the situation. The lying and the money and—’
‘Yes, I get it, but compared to escaping from desert pirates it should be child’s play.’
‘Pirates. I suppose they were, and the desert is a bit like the sea too,’ she reflected, a little shudder tracing a path up her spine as she recalled the vast emptiness. ‘I didn’t escape. I hung on, that’s all,’ she reminded him, a glimmer of a smile tilting one corner of her lips as she recalled that journey through the blackness of the desert.
The memory reminded her too that she owed him, big time. He hadn’t played that card, he even seemed inclined to play down the fact he had saved her from a fate that Abby considered worse than death. Given how much she owed him, he wasn’t, when she really thought about it, asking so very much in return. So it didn’t sit well with her conscience; being uneasy was not much to ask of her in the grand scheme of things.
‘I signed on for this so don’t worry, I won’t wimp out.’
‘I like your hair that way...it is you.’
Before she had the opportunity to decide if that had been a compliment or an insult he was opening the door for her to pass through. As she did he stopped her, patting his trouser pockets. ‘I’ve forgotten my phone...hold on...’ He paused. ‘What are you scared of?’
‘I’m not scared...just...people are going to be curious, to ask questions.’
‘I feel confident that they won’t, but if they do simply refer them to me.’
Her little chin lifted in challenge once more. ‘I don’t need a man to speak for me! Do you even know how sexist that sounds?’
‘You were the one playing helpless,’ he pointed out.
