Her eyes followed the headache-inducing pattern of the curtains from top to bottom. He would be devastated when he found out the truth. That the man he had welcomed as a son had let his adopted daughter down when she’d needed him most. And she would have to break that news to him soon. But not until the bruise around her heart had faded and she could think—no, say Omar’s name out loud without stumbling over the syllables. Then at least she might have a chance of persuading Dan that she hadn’t been crushed by her selfish, single-minded husband’s betrayal.
And, more importantly, convince him that none of this was his fault.
She turned to Carole. ‘Do you know if I can pick up a bus to Creech Falls from out front?’
‘You can. But you don’t need to.’ The nurse looked up at her. ‘You’re getting a lift.’
She was?Delphi frowned. Ashley must have ignored her message. Her throat tightened and she felt a rush of affection for her housemate.
‘She didn’t need to do that,’ she mumbled.
‘She didn’t.’ Carole’s smile softened as the curtain parted and a man stepped through the gap, his broad, muscular body blocking out the noise and light of the ER.
Every muscle in her body froze. For a few mindless seconds everything including her heartbeat stopped, just as if someone had pressed a pause button. And then, just as swiftly, it began beating double-time.
No, she thought, with a quickening of shock, her eyes still on Carole, feeling herself swaying on her stupid skinny heels. Then, no, again, this time more firmly and with a rising panic.
Only some unseen force was turning her head.
And there he was.
Not a mirage or a figment of her imagination but real. Flesh and blood. Bone and muscle. Her husband, Omar Al Majid, in a suit that must have been crafted in some workshop with the sole purpose of advertising the spectacular body that lay beneath.
She stared at him, numb, speechless. A vice was clamping around her ribs. It was all she could do to keep standing upright. She felt weak at the knees. That was the phrase people used, and up until last year she would never have taken it literally. But now here she was, for the second time in her life, shaking inside, her limbs quivering just as they had that very first time she’d seen him at the Amersham Polo Club.
The Amersham was her local club. She had been riding since she was old enough to sit on a horse, and playing polo for almost as long, and Sunday was always match day. Spectators came to enjoy the sunshine and the drama on the field.
She played with her brothers and father. They were a good team and that day they had won their morning match easily. After lunch, she had swapped with Scott and it had been then, standing at the sidelines with the whickering ponies, that she had seen Omar.
Not that she’d known him as Omar then. She hadn’t known his name. He was just a man. An opponent in a dark blue jersey and white breeches. But she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. And when finally, he’d dismounted his eyes had found hers, just as if he had known exactly where she was.
Feeling his gaze now, she looked up at him, her pulse accelerating. She hadn’t been entirely sure when or if this moment would ever happen. But she had, of course, acted it out in her head multiple times. What she would say. How Omar would react. Only that didn’t stop it being a shock.
But not as much of a shock as the fierce, quivering heat flooding her veins and spilling over her skin, so that for a moment she forgot Carole. Forgot the ache in her arm and the ache in her heart. She forgot everything. She just stood there, drowning in need for him, drinking him in...
Only it was ridiculous to feel that way. To feel anything other than anger for the man standing in front of her. The man who had taken her trust—no, demanded it—then casually tossed it in her face. A man who had promised to have her back, to be by her side, only to leave her alone in their penthouse apartment like some forgotten princess in a tower. He might have promised to love and cherish and honour her, but Omar was wedded to his business.
For a split second, her eyes flicked to the man standing in front of her. Over the last six weeks she had been asking herself the same question over and over. Why him? Out of all the men on the planet, why had she given her heart to Omar Al Majid?
Seeing him again, the answer was obvious.
She let her gaze rest on his face.
Typically, overhead fluorescent lighting was harsh and unflattering. Bleaching out colour and warmth and highlighting every tiny flaw and imperfection. But Omar had no flaws or imperfections. Not visible ones, anyway. His beauty was astonishing. Every feature, every angle and line of his face was clean, precise, faceted like a gemstone—and, as with any priceless, glittering jewel, it was impossible to drag your gaze away from it.
Carole clearly felt the same way, she thought, aware suddenly of the nurse’s rapt expression. Holding her breath, hating him, hating herself more, she met his gaze.
‘Omar.’
‘Delphi.’
He spoke softly, but there was a hard gleam in his brown eyes, a tension in the way he was holding his lean muscular body that made her breathing become shallow and her skin grow warm.
‘I came as soon as I heard.’
The familiarity of his voice, or rather the dizzying rush of adrenaline it produced, prodded at her already jangling nerves so that for a few moments she didn’t take in his actual words, just the smoothness of the syllables. Then she stiffened. What did he mean as soon as he’d heard? Heard how? From whom?
The curtains quivered as a doctor in a white coat strode past, his head lowered over a clipboard.