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‘She is the most reliable horse in my stables, but if you feel unsafe you can always grab a piece of her mane.’

‘It doesn’t seem fair to make her suffer just because I’m nervous.’ But her fingers closed gently and carefully around a hunk of the mare’s mane.

Watching her, Raz felt himself harden. His gaze focused on those slim fingers. Heat shot through him as he remembered how those fingers felt against his skin.

He lifted his gaze from her fingers to her face, studying the curve of her cheek and the sweep of her inky lashes, and she must have felt his scrutiny because she turned her head and her eyes met his.

Raz felt that look all the way through him.

‘Can she gallop yet?’ Zahra cantered up, disturbing the moment, glued to the back of her horse as if she’d been born in the saddle, Isis and Horus running by her side. ‘I want you to learn fast, Layla, so we can ride together. Isis and Horus can come with us too. They love it when we gallop.’

Layla had switched her attention from the horse to the dogs and Raz frowned.

‘The dogs make you nervous?’

‘I’m worried they might upset the horse.’

Her response made perfect sense, but he sensed something more and wondered if she’d been bitten as a child. That would certainly explain the fear he saw in her eyes whenever his dogs were nearby.

‘Did you keep Saluki as pets when you were young?’

‘No.’ Her lips were bloodless, her slim fingers clenched in the horse’s mane. ‘Not as pets.’

‘Layla...’ He rode closer to her, his knee brushing against hers. ‘If the dogs are a problem you must tell me.’

‘The dogs aren’t a problem. Zahra adores them and they adore her. They also guard her, which can only be a good thing.’

Her response was neutral and composed but he glimpsed something in her eyes—a shadow of something so dark and bleak he wasn’t sure he even wanted to explore it further. He wondered again what her life must have been like. What it would have taken to drive someone like her to cross the desert to seek out a stranger.

The more he knew her, the more he realised that such impulsive behaviour was completely out of character. She was a woman who thought everything through, who relied on evidence to make decisions, and yet she’d chosen to risk everything to find him. She’d known nothing about him, and yet she’d preferred to commit herself to the unknown than spend another day in her old life. So what did that say about her life?

‘When can we gallop?’ It was Zahra who asked the question, circling her pony like a polo player as she waited impatiently for her father.

‘Later,’ Raz told her. ‘I don’t want to leave Layla.’

‘Don’t worry about me. I think I might have had enough for one day and so has this poor horse.’

Apparently relieved to have an excuse to finish, she rode the mare to a halt the way he’d taught her.

‘You two gallop and I’ll go back. See you at the stables. But I think I’ll walk and lead her, if that’s all right.’

Before she could dismount, Raz reached out and covered her hand with his.

‘You are doing well.’

Her mouth twitched at the corners. ‘We both know I’m doing terribly,’ she said dryly, ‘but thank you for saying that.’

‘It’s always harder to learn as an adult than as a child because your awareness of danger is more sharply focused.’ And he suspected her awareness of danger was even more sharply focused than most. He watched her face, searching for clues, but her expression didn’t change and he released her hand. ‘Go and relax. Abdul will show you my library.’

‘You have a library?’ Her face brightened but Zahra shuddered.

‘Who wants books when they can have horses?’

CHAPTER EIGHT

LAYLA SAT CURLED up on a low ottoman covered in rich red silk, a stack of books awaiting her attention and a chilled fruit juice on the table in front of her. Of all the rooms in Raz’s beautiful home—the home she hadn’t known existed—the library was predictably her favourite. Not just because of the walls lined with books, but because of the views. The doors opened over a courtyard with a central fountain that sent cooling water flowing over a majestic statue of a horse. And now, with the sun setting over the distant dunes, the courtyard was floodlit with a warm golden light.

It was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen.


Tags: Sarah Morgan Billionaire Romance