‘You always do. You always know what’s best for everyone.’
The tension in his shoulders increased but he chose not to respond to that. ‘That is not important right now. What is important is finding her. If this marriage does not go ahead there will be serious diplomatic consequences.’
‘Diplomatic consequences?’ Avery rolled her eyes in exasperation at his priorities. ‘No wonder Kalila left—it’s not very romantic, is it?’
‘I’m surprised you’re even able to recognise a romantic.’ He stood like a conqueror, powerful legs spread apart as he stared down at the view.
‘Why? Because I’m not romantic myself? We’re not talking about me.’ Reflecting on the fact that men could be truly clueless when it came to women, she tried to control her emotions. ‘She really gave you no clue that she felt this way? The two of you have known each other for years.’
‘We’ve barely spoken five words to each other.’
Avery hid her surprise. ‘Oh.’ So if he didn’t love Kalila, why had he been in such a hurry to marry her? Only one explanation presented itself. They’d broken up. He was angry. He’d done it to hurt her.
‘On the few occasions she spoke to me, she usually just agreed with whatever I was saying.’
Numb, Avery thought about all the lively debates they’d shared on every topic from economics to human rights and wondered how a man like Mal could be happy with a wife whose sole purpose in life was to agree with him.
He’d be bored rigid.
And it would serve him right if he were consigned to a life of misery for taking this enormous step just to score points against her.
‘If she’s that obedient maybe you should have just ordered her to “sit” and “stay”.’
‘This is not the time for sarcasm. I came to see if you could shed any light on her whereabouts.’
‘I can’t. And truly I cannot imagine why you would ask me.’ And now she was just desperate for him to leave, not just because of the way he made her feel but because she wanted to call Kalila and make a few enquiries of her own.
It wasn’t right that Kalila should be used as a pawn in their fight.
‘You and I were friends once—’ He turned his head to look at her and just for a moment she saw the past in his eyes. ‘Good friends.’
What he’d introduced into the room was more frightening than any dragon. ‘Mal—’
‘I’m asking you as a friend. There are few enough people I can trust in my life but, despite everything, I do trust you. Whatever happened between us, I still trust you and I realise that this situation is potentially awkward—’ His dark gaze fastened on her like some sort of high-tech imaging device designed to penetrate flesh and bone in the search for truth. ‘If you still had feelings for me I would never have involved you. You ended our relationship so I assumed that wasn’t the case. If I was wrong about that then tell me now.’
Tell him what? That she dreamed about him every night? That she found it hard to focus and that it took her twice as long to accomplish simple tasks because she was preoccupied? That in the months following their break-up she’d barely recognised the woman she’d become?
Even now, she sometimes looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back at her.
Avery’s mouth was dry. Her heart was bumping against her chest so hard she was surprised he couldn’t see it. ‘If you still had feelings for me—’ No mention of his feelings. Which shouldn’t have surprised her and certainly shouldn’t have hurt. If he’d had feelings for her he wouldn’t have been able to move with such ease from one woman to another.
‘I don’t have feelings.’ She adopted the chilly tone she used when men tried to get too close to her at functions. ‘My inability to help you has nothing to do with our history, but the fact that I have no useful information.’
‘What did you talk about when you were together?’
‘I can’t remember—’ she didn’t want to remember because talking to his bride had been like sticking knives into herself ‘—shoes, dresses and education for women. She never talked about running away.’ Or had she? The ghost of a memory flitted into her head. Avery gave a tiny frown and Mal spotted the change in her instantly, pouncing like a lion on a gazelle.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ She shook her head. ‘I—’
‘“Nothing” is all I have to go on right now.’
‘Is there a chance she might have gone into the desert?’
Mal’s expression changed. His eyes were shuttered. ‘Definitely not. Kalila hates the desert.’
‘I know.’ And she’d always thought it really odd that a girl raised in that landscape could loathe it. Even more strange that she’d agreed to marry a man whose love for the desert was widely known. ‘She told me how much it scared her—’ She broke off, an uncomfortable memory pricking her conscience.