But even after years of being denied access to the animals she loved she wasn’t that needy. This warm feeling came from the way Tarek and Karim looked at her. Tarek with excitement and admiration and Karim with…
Safiyah wrenched her gaze away. Karim was doing what he’d promised—building a bond with Tarek, creating a sense of family so her boy could thrive. So they could present the image of a solid family unit. Karim was pragmatic, that was all. It would be crazy to read more into his actions.
She focused on Tarek. ‘You’re sitting up nice and straight. I’m impressed. Are you ready to ride out?’
‘Can I? Can I really?’ He jumped up and down in the saddle, then almost immediately subsided, leaning forward to pat the pony reassuringly. ‘Sorry, Amin. I didn’t mean to scare you.’
The pony flicked its ear at the sound of his name but otherwise didn’t budge.
Safiyah suppressed a smile. ‘You found a very calm pony, Karim. I only hope he moves as well as he stands.’
Karim passed her the leading rope. ‘Time to find out.’
Amin did, indeed, move. In fact he turned out to be an ideal learner’s mount—placid, but not obstinate, content to circle the courtyard again and again while Tarek learned the basics.
‘I had no idea what you two were up to,’ Safiyah said as they stopped before Karim. Despite her stern self-talk, she found herself smiling into those glinting eyes. ‘You kept the secret well.’
He shrugged. ‘We kept Amin at the far end of the stable, away from the other horses, so you wouldn’t see him. He’s only been here a couple of days. I don’t think Tarek could have kept the secret any longer.’
Tarek piped up. ‘I wanted to tell you, Mama, but I wanted to surprise you with how much I know.’ He rattled off information about grooming his pony and even caring for his tack.
Safiyah raised her eyebrows.
‘I told Tarek that if he had a pony he had to learn how to look after it.’ Karim caught her eye.
‘I agree.’ She turned to her son. ‘You’ve learned so much. I’m proud of you.’
He grinned. ‘Can we go now? Can we?’
‘Go?’ Safiyah looked from Tarek to Karim.
‘Our picnic, remember?’ He turned and went into the stable, emerging with her horse, already saddled. ‘Up you get.’ When Safiyah hesitated he continued. ‘You and Tarek will ride. I’ll lead the pony.’
Karim would walk, leaving her and Tarek to ride? She couldn’t imagine many men of her acquaintance doing that—especially Abbas, even if hehadbeen able to ride. Usually women and children tagged along while the man took precedence.
‘Hurry up, Safiyah. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.’
There was no impatience in Karim’s expression, just a twinkle of amusement that she found far too attractive. With one last look at Tarek she took the reins and swung up into the saddle.
They didn’t ride far, and not down to the beach—for which she was grateful. Even with Karim holding the leading rope, the track there was steep and would challenge a first-time rider. Instead they went to a sheltered grove a little way along the headland.
The view across the sea was spectacular, but what held Safiyah’s eye was the tent erected for their convenience. It was tall enough to stand up in. The floor was covered with carpets and cushions. And she caught the glint of silver from platters, jugs and intricately decorated goblets. Cool boxes stood in one corner, no doubt packed with their picnic meal.
The place looked inviting and, she realised, deserted. The servants who’d set up this temporary camp had clearly returned to the palace. Maybe that accounted for the sense of intimacy here. There was silence but for the snort of the horses, Tarek’s chatter and the whisper of the sea below.
She caught Karim’s gaze on her. Warmth swarmed through her, climbing to her cheeks. Suddenly the tent with all its rich furnishings looked like the setting for seduction.
She remembered that morning, when Karim had persuaded her to stay in bed, ostensibly by reaching out one hand to stroke her bare body. But it had been the searing hunger in his expression that had held her there. For she’d been consumed by a matching hunger.
How dangerous it was, trying to keep her heart whole while sharing her husband’s bed. This wasn’t like her marriage to Abbas. Then there’d been no difficulty in maintaining an emotional distance. But with Karim—
‘What are you thinking?’
His voice hit that baritone note that never failed to make Safiyah feel weak and wanton.
‘I…’ Her gaze shifted and she noticed for the first time that one end of the tent was a cosy bower, where a couple of Tarek’s toys were propped against fluffy pillows. A kite lay beside them.
Safiyah swallowed, her throat closing convulsively as emotion see-sawed. This looked…felt…like the action of more than a man taking a pragmatic approach. It felt like the action of a man who cared.