Bride Behind The Desert Veil (The Marchetti Dynasty 3)

He shrank back into the shadows of the trees around the natural pool at the oasis where he’d set up camp for the night, en route to the palace at Taraq. His team had gone on ahead. He needed some time alone in the desert. It never failed to ground and recharge him, and he knew the coming weeks would require all of his focus...

A horse and rider thundered into the small but lush oasis, shattering the peace. In an instant Sharif assessed the young man to be an expert horseman, his body moving as one with the horse. The enormous stallion came to an abrupt halt under a twitch of the reins, nostrils flaring, body sheened with a light film of sweat. He’d been ridden hard.

The young man slid off athletically, patting the horse’s neck and leading it over to the pool where it drank thirstily. He looped the reins around a nearby tree, tethering the horse.

Sharif wasn’t sure why he stayed hidden in the shadows, but some instinct was compelling him to remain hidden for now. He sensed the stranger’s desire to be alone. Like him. Also, he presumed the rider would move on once the horse had drunk and rested for a moment.

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He couldn’t make out the man’s—the boy’s face. He had to be a boy. He was tall, but too slight to be a man. His head and face were covered in a loose turban.

The falcon swooped low at that moment and Sharif saw the rider lift up his right arm. The bird came to rest on a leather arm-guard. So it was a pet falcon. Impressive.

The stranger fed the bird what looked like a piece of meat out of a pouch at his hip and then, with a flick of his arm, let the bird fly off again.

The young man stood at the edge of the pool. A sigh seemed to go through his slender frame. And then he lifted his hands to undo his turban.

Sharif moved to announce himself, but stopped in his tracks when the turban fell away and a riotous mass of dark unruly curls was unleashed, tumbling down a narrow back. Narrow back. Long hair. Curls.

It hit Sharif. This wasn’t a young man—it was a young woman, and as he watched, struck mute and unable to move, she started to take off all her clothes.

The gallop to the oasis had only taken the smallest edge off Liyah’s turmoil—a potent mixture of anger and helplessness. It was the eve of her wedding and she was hopelessly trapped. And she’d put herself in this position for the sake of her sister, which only made her feel even more impotent. It wasn’t as if she was being forced into this. She could have ignored her sister’s call. Stayed in Europe.

Yet, she couldn’t have. She adored her sister—the only family member who had ever shown Liyah love and acceptance. Liyah would do anything to secure Samara’s happiness. Even this.

And, after extracting a promise from her father that he wouldn’t stand in the way of Samara marrying her sweetheart, Javid, at least Liyah’s sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.

But it wasn’t even that sacrifice that was uppermost in her mind. She was still reeling from what her father had revealed a week ago. That he’d loved her mother. And that Liyah reminded him of her.

Knowing the reason why she’d always been shunned by her father wasn’t exactly a comfort. It only compounded her sense of dislocation. Isolation. Love had done this to her father—made him bitter.

In a way, discovering this had only confirmed her belief that love was not to be trusted. It made you weak and vulnerable.

If anything, she more than most should agree with a marriage based on the sound principles of practicality and necessity. She just hadn’t ever figured that she would have to put it into practice. She’d relished the prospect of an independent life. Free to make choices of her own.

Living in Europe for the past couple of years had given her a false sense of freedom. That freedom had been an illusion. Even if she hadn’t come back here to take her sister’s place, her family’s neglect and disapproval would have always cast a long shadow, reminding her of how unlovable she was.

Since her father had mentioned that her husband-to-be was the CEO of a luxury conglomerate, Liyah imagined him to be the sort of individual who gorged himself on rich food, beautiful women and vacuous pleasures.

She didn’t want to blight her last days of freedom—ha!—by thinking of a future she couldn’t change, so she hadn’t even bothered to look him up. Which she knew wasn’t exactly rational—but then she hadn’t been feeling very rational for the last week as the full enormity of what she’d agreed to sank in.

The water of the deep pool looked inviting and cool and she felt hot and constricted. Panicky.

She let the turban that had been wound around her head and face to protect her from the sand drop to the ground. She started to take off her clothes, knowing she was safely alone because no one ever came here. It was too close to the palace to be a stopping point for travellers. And the Sheikh—her future husband—had arrived just before she’d left, with an entourage. Not that she’d hung around to see him.

She undid the buttons on her shirt and it fell down her arms with a soft whoosh. The cooling evening air made her skin prickle. She undid her bra, let that fall too. She opened the button on her soft leather trousers—trousers that her father would never approve of as they were not feminine. Which was precisely why Liyah loved them. Apart from the ease of movement they gave her.

She shimmied them over her hips and then down her legs, stepping out of them. She pulled down her underwear.

Now she was naked.

Her horse whinnied softly. The sky was a dark bruised lavender, filling with stars. A crescent moon was rising. A swell of emotion made her chest tight. Would she ever be back here again? She loved this place. It was where she felt most at peace. Cantering over the sand with her bird high in the sky above her. Wild. Free.

Liyah stepped into the water, still warm after the day’s intense heat. It glided over her skin like silk as she walked in up to her waist and then dived deep, where the depths were cooler and darker.

Only when her lungs were about to burst did she kick her way back up and break the surface, sucking in deep gulps of air. It took a second for her ears to clear before she heard a man’s voice.

‘What the hell were you doing? I was about to rescue you.’