Abby looked towards Zain and found he was not looking at the tiny brunette but at her. He seemed to read the unspoken question in her eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly.
Abby put his tension down to a fear she was about to say or do something that would blow their cover. His concern, she admitted, was pretty well-founded.
‘Zain, darling!’
For a moment Zain did nothing but then he took a deep breath, lifted his hand and walked out to greet the woman.
They met somewhere in the middle, close enough for Abby to see what the other woman looked like but not hear what they were saying apart from the odd word that floated out...which sounded French.
Abby wasn’t prepared for the flood of peculiar emotions seeing them together released, rising to the surface like oil on water. She examined the woman rather than the feelings.
At a distance, there had been the suggestion of glossy perfection. Closer to, this was intensified; the other woman didn’t have a hair out of place, literally. The dark hair that swung to her shoulders in a bell-like curve was smooth and glossy and there wasn’t a single crease in the tight-fitting riding breeches that were moulded to her bottom and thighs or a mark on her whiter-than-white shirt. The knee-high riding boots she wore had a glossy sheen and clung to her calves, the darker, fitted jacket on top was nipped in where it buttoned at the waist and the scarf arranged artfully around her neck added the final chic touch.
In profile, her features looked small and neat, and next to Zain she was tiny and delicate-looking. She was just the sort of woman that brought out protective instincts in men.
The sort of woman who always made Abby feel big and clumsy. For a split second she was back at school, towering over the other girls, hearing the popular girls laugh and snigger at her in the hallways. Annoyed with herself, she forced the images away—she had moved on a long time ago, she reminded herself.
The sound of female laughter drifting across to her brought Abby’s attention firmly back to the present and she found herself clenching her teeth, her curiosity turning to something else, something that made her want to look away, but she couldn’t. She continued to watch as the woman reached out a hand and laid it on Zain’s chest... Was the intimacy of the gesture a figment of her imagination?
She watched as Zain turned and gestured in her own direction—clearly he was talking about her, but what was he saying...? The woman turned too and, lifting a gloved hand, she waved. It took Abby a split second to respond with a jerky movement of her hand.
Then the couple began to walk towards her.
By the time they reached her Abby had a very creditable smile painted on her face.
‘Kayla, this is my wife, Abby; Abby, this is Kayla, my...brother’s widow.’ Zain smoothly made the formal introductions.
Abby tipped her head, still in shock at hearing Zain call her his wife. ‘I’m very sorry...for your loss.’
The woman’s red lips stretched into a gracious smile, her mouth the perfect rosebud shape. Her diamond earrings flashed in the sunlight. ‘Thank you. It has been a difficult time...my mother insisted I go out this morning; she knew that it would help. Zain understands. He feels the same way.’
It was hard to tell from Zain’s expression if he felt anything at all. His expression was tight and stony.
Kayla clasped a hand to her chest. Not anticipating the dramatic gesture, Abby stepped back.
‘The desert...for us...’ Kayla’s glance took in Zain. ‘It is hard to explain to an outsider...it is an almost spiritual connection that cleanses the soul.’
Struggling to know what to say to this, Abby just nodded and heard herself say stupidly, ‘That’s nice.’
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night to greet you.’ Abby noted how the gracious smile did not quite reach her dark eyes.
‘No...not at all,’ Abby stammered.
‘Everyone wants to meet you—perhaps we could have tea one day? Go shopping... I’m sure we will be great friends.’ She leaned in and, stretching upwards, kissed the air either side of Abby’s face. Abby’s nostrils flared as she was engulfed in a cloud of exotic-smelling cloying perfume.
Without waiting for a response, Kayla turned and lifted her face to Zain.
Abby turned away, tangling her fingers in the animal’s mane but aware in the periphery of her vision that the pause before Zain bent forward was one second away from being awkward. She didn’t look as he air-brushed her cheek with his lips but turned in time to see the other woman catch hold of his hand, sandwich it between both of hers, the red nails bright against his skin, before pressing it to her chest and only then slowly releasing it.
There were tears in the corners of her dark eyes as she turned to Abby. ‘Forgive me; it’s just that I nearly lost both my men.’
Abby told herself she had imagined the emphasis and nodded, feeling a little guilty that her own sympathy felt so forced.
‘Later, Zain...?’ The tears dried as the beautiful brunette arched a brow in Zain’s direction and nodded to Abby before walking regally away, the two men falling into step behind.
‘So that is Kayla.’
‘It is,’ Zain agreed.