So, they’d been as bad as each other.
‘When he got older he found a passion in rally driving.’
‘I’ve seen the photos.’ Jacqui smiled wistfully. Imran had looked in his element, dusty, dishevelled and elated, leaning against a car that looked as if it had barely survived the rigorous course.
‘It wasn’t till he went to college and discovered a love of cameras and film that he became focused. He found his purpose. Some of those stories he got...’ Asim shook his head. ‘He didn’t get them waiting on the sidelines to be assured it was safe.’
Reluctantly Jacqui nodded. Imran had been up to any challenge when it came to getting a story. That had drawn them together in the beginning. She’d put it down to his commitment to his job, but had there been an element of thrill-seeking too?
Of course there had been. But Imran had also been professional, taking appropriate precautions in risky situations, at least when she was around.
‘At first I wanted to blame you for his death. I was looking for a scapegoat.’ Her breath snared as he voiced the guilt she’d carried so long. ‘But I couldn’t do it. It just didn’t fit.’ He paused, his eyes capturing hers. ‘You can’t tell me my cousin would have waited for you to reconnoitre the situation alone.’
Jacqui blinked. When Asim put it like that... But the fact remained it had been her tip-off, her responsibility. ‘I led him into danger.’ She swallowed.
‘No.’ Asim shook his head. ‘You told him what you’d learned. If he’d wanted, he could have turned back. Couldn’t he?’ His eyes held hers. ‘Jacqueline?’
‘I suppose.’
‘Is it likely he’d have waited for you to go off alone and track down the story?’
Under that unblinking ebony stare Jacqui found herself confronting the harsh truth.
‘No.’ The word burst out. ‘No, he wouldn’t have waited. But that doesn’t mean I feel any less guilty.’
‘Because you survived and he didn’t.’ Asim’s arm curved around her shoulders, drawing her into his warmth. ‘He didn’t die because of you, Jacqueline, but because someone cared more for their own ends than the lives of innocents.’
‘I—’ She shook her head, her mouth working.
‘It’s okay to grieve for him, habibti, so long as you understand you’re not to blame.’
Jacqui huddled into Asim’s big frame, drawing comfort. What he said wasn’t new, the counsellor had said something similar, but for some reason it seemed to make more sense. Because Asim had known Imran? Because they were here in the desert Imran had loved? Or because Jacqui was finally ready to move on?
She buried her face in Asim’s sweater, breathing in the spicy scent of his skin. Tears leaked beneath her eyelids and she wrapped her arms around him, holding tight as he gathered her in and rocked her.
Jacqui drew a shuddering breath.
She’d come out here because Asim had broken her heart.
Now it felt like he’d put it back together again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘IT’S UTTERLY GORGEOUS.’
Asim watched Jacqui’s eyes widen as she stepped into one of the rooms at the old royal pavilion. She turned slowly, taking in the delicately coloured wall murals and the shallow pool in the centre of the floor, now dry, that glittered with a mosaic of semi-precious stones.
She walked to the wide seats running the length of the walls, dragging her fingertips over the silk cushions, exclaiming over the fine fabric and delicate embroidery.
She was so tactile, so sensual. Asim remembered the way she stroked his flesh or tangled her fingers in his hair whenever they lay together. How, even when physically spent, he enjoyed those soothing caresses.
Regret pierced him. He wasn’t ready to give her up.
If anything, understanding her better and admitting his faults to her as they sat by the fire in the early hours had made her more rather than less appealing. His body craved her with undimmed urgency.
How long before this attraction waned? Weeks? Months? He’d never had a relationship like this. It was new territory.
Asim folded his arms as she pushed open a window and leaned out to take in the oasis view. She wore jeans and a rumpled shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
No wonder his scheme to find a bride had come to naught! He was bewitched by Jacqueline Fletcher.
It had been a mistake, trying to vet well-bred beauties when he was enthralled by this tawny-haired lioness.
She fascinated him. He’d never known a more contradictory woman—brave when standing up for others or for her work, yet vulnerable and unsure of herself. Responsive and generous, yet abrasive when she thought she was being dismissed.