‘And that is very much to your credit.’ His voice was low, his expression guarded as he watched her pace from one end of the tent to the other. ‘I came to tell you that you’re wrong.’
She couldn’t focus.
She couldn’t concentrate on the conversation because she wanted to look at him all the time. Not just because he was a man who naturally commanded attention, or even because he was sensationally good-looking—although that had to play a part—no, it was something so much more personal. It was because he knew her in a way no one had ever known her before. Whenever he was near she felt as if they were being pulled together. She had to fight the impulse to walk up to him and touch him. And because she had no experience of feeling that way she had no idea how to cure herself.
She’d never felt like this before and it was driving her mad. They had huge issues, but all she could think about was the feel of his hands on her and the way it felt to be kissed by him.
Layla pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to clear her brain, trying to harness her old way of thinking. Trying to push out thoughts she didn’t want in her head. Her stress levels were running into the red, her grip on control so loose she was afraid the whole thing was going to slip from her grasp. She knew the only way to pull herself back together was not to be near him. She needed to be on her own so that she could rebalance herself.
‘I probably am wrong. You know Nadia much better than I do. I don’t have all the facts. If you think she’s the right person to care for your daughter, it’s not my place to disagree with you.’
‘I don’t mean that you’re wrong about Nadia. I mean that you’re wrong about the other things you said.’
She was so aware of him standing there that the whole conversation blurred in her head. ‘What things?’ Was this the ultimate in humiliation? To know a man could do those things to her and feel nothing and yet still her head could be full of nothing but him? Why couldn’t she detach the physical from the emotional as he evidently could?
The intimate atmosphere suffocated her, and the way he was looking at her made her feel as if he’d touched her skin with the flame of a candle.
‘I make love to you in the dark not because I am thinking of my wife, but because you are very shy and I am trying to be sensitive to your feelings. On that first night you would not even remove your robe to show me your bruises, so I assumed you would want to take that side of our relationship very slowly.’
Slowly?
Layla felt as if she were burning up inside. She thought about what they’d shared. Was that slowly? Trembling, she hid her damp palms behind her back. ‘Oh.’
‘You came to me clutching a copy of the Kama Sutra, but you hadn’t even glanced between the pages and clearly had no idea of what lay ahead of you. I decided you might be less self-conscious if you were in darkness.’ He paused to draw breath. ‘I don’t spend time with you during the day, that is true, but it’s because I have a million and one demands on my time—not least the upheaval in Tazkhan. I have spent the past two days meeting with certain members of the council in secret. Hassan has disappeared. That is another reason I am particularly concerned about my daughter’s safety right now.’
Still dealing with the news that he’d been thinking of her feelings, Layla felt her stomach lurch. ‘Hassan has disappeared?’
‘Yes, and until we know his whereabouts I don’t want my daughter left alone.’ He hesitated. ‘Or you. He is a desperate man. Who knows what he could decide to do, given that he now has so little to lose? He has lost any chance of taking your father’s place and he has few, if any, supporters among the people. Speaking of which, I have been learning a great deal of interesting information about you in the past few days.’
‘You have?’
‘I spent some time with the people. I visited hospitals and local schools—including a school where you apparently help out.’
‘I love books and I like to help the children who struggle with reading. The school doesn’t have enough staff to offer that sort of help.’ Layla stammered over the words, horrified that he’d found out with such ease. So much of her life had been conducted with discretion, if not secrecy. ‘Who told you?’
‘Apparently the staff don’t feel the need to keep it a secret any longer as your father is dead and Hassan missing. There is no shortage of people willing to tell me how good you are with the children and what an excellent decision I made in marrying you.’