AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER NINE
TURNINGHERHEAD, Delphi breathed in deeply. The air was so different here from the mountains. There it was clear and dizzyingly fresh. But this was different with every breath. There was salt and spice and the fumes from the various boats chugging up and down and across the choppy waters of the Dubai Creek, or the Khor Dubai, as it was known locally.
It was two days since she and Omar had emerged from the barn into the daylight. But they had survived more than one storm. And the second—the one that had taken place in the bedroom—had been infinitely more terrifying and painful.
Honestly, she hadn’t believed him when he’d said he wanted to change, that he could change. But when it came to it, it didn’t matter. She didn’t know if it had been the desperation in his voice, or the smudges under his eyes, but she hadn’t been able to walk away.
Her heart bumped against her ribs. She still didn’t know if she had done the right thing by staying, but she did know that walking away wasn’t the solution anymore. It never had been, only she hadn’t been able to see that then. She had been too locked into her own fears, too scared to take a risk. But something had changed—she had changed. And he had too.
And now she was sitting in an abra, one of the flat-decked wooden boats that ferried people from one side of the creek to the other, with Omar’s hand wrapped around hers, breathing in not just the air but the sights and sounds of the waterfront.
There were hundreds of wooden boats tied three deep along the creek, and on the quayside, men were ferrying boxes of shirts and milk powder and cooking oil on their shoulders.
And, as if all that activity wasn’t incredible enough, they were alone.
Or at least it felt as if they were alone. The bodyguards were still close by, but Omar had insisted that they blend in. She glanced over to where he was sitting beside her, his gaze tracking the movements of the river traffic. They were supposed to be doing the same, but it would take more than a baseball cap to make Omar Al Majid blend into any crowd.
‘What do you think?’
She felt him shift closer and she turned, her heart making a startling leap into her throat as their eyes met.
‘I think it’s amazing,’ she said truthfully. ‘It’s so busy.’
Omar had been right. This was nothing like the Dubai she had seen on the way to the Lulua. There were no glittering skyscrapers or glossy supercars. Everything was brightly coloured and there was so much to see.
‘It’s like this day and night. The people who live and work here never stop.’
‘So where are we going first?’ she asked as he helped her disembark on the Deira side of the creek.’
‘The market. Although it’s not quite like the farmer’s market in Bedford Hills.’
Her chest felt tight, as though it might burst. It had been one of her favourite places to go with him before they’d got married. But those lazy mornings spent browsing handmade cheese and local honey had been swept aside and forgotten, like everything else.
Or maybe not forgotten, she thought now, as his hand tightened around hers and he led her through the crowded, labyrinthine lanes.
First stop was the cloth market. Every single space was occupied. In some places bolts of vividly coloured textiles were balanced in unsteady piles against the walls, in others they spilled onto the streets. There was barely standing room and the noise was astonishing.
‘Is that Arabic?’ she asked, as a woman began to shout at a man who was holding up a pair of beautiful, embroidered slippers.
Omar shook his head. ‘Urdu. But around ninety per cent of the population is expat, so you’ll hear a lot of languages. You get used to it.’
‘Is that why you’re so good at languages?’
He seemed surprised by the question. ‘Not at all. I’m only good because I had so many extra lessons. It’s not something that came naturally to me.’
‘But you wanted to get better?’ It was typical of Omar that even as a child he had seen it as a challenge to overcome. ‘And you worked hard to get what you wanted?’
Next to her, Omar was silent, and she sensed a tension that hadn’t been there before.
Then he said, ‘It was my father who wanted me to get better, so that’s what I did on my weekends. I learned German and Mandarin and Spanish and French.’
It didn’t sound like much fun. It didn’t sound like her weekends on the ranch... ‘Wouldn’t you have rather been playing with your friends?’
‘Of course. All I wanted to do was play football and polo. But it’s been very good for business.’ He gave her a small, tight smile. ‘Shall we move on?’
Very good for business, she thought, but surely that couldn’t have been Rashid’s intention.
After the cloth market they made their way to the souks. Omar had been right, Delphi thought, gazing at the crowded stalls. It was nothing like the farmer’s markets back in the States.
