The Sheikh's Ransomed Bride

`Do you have any other injuries?’ Was that a thread of tension she detected in his tone?

She turned from her contemplation of the empty ocean to find his attention fixed on her thigh. A large, multicolored bruise marred her leg-unmistakably the mark of a massive hand.

Belle shuddered as she remembered getting that bruise. Heavy, thick set men, rank with the smell of sour sweat and excitement.

Cruel eyes that told her they’d enjoyed maiming Duncan, would enjoy hurting her. For an instant she was sucked back into the nightmare, confused and fighting the choking panic that threatened to take hold.

She blinked, forcing herself to put aside the memory. There were more sore spots round her waist. Tentatively she touched them and winced.

À couple of bruises,’ she said, aiming for a matter of fact tone and failing. `They’ll heal in time.’

A burst of guttural Arabic, savage and uncompromising, broke across her words. Startled, she raised her eyes to see a look of such fierce emotion on Rafiq’s face that she flinched. It was as if he’d transformed into a stranger. An intense, deadly stranger.

Then his eyes met hers and the impression was dispelled, his face smoothing out into the familiar mask of cool control.

`Forgive me, Ms Winters-Belle.’ He paused, and she noticed the rapid tic of his pulse at the base of his throat. Not so calm, then.

He gestured abruptly to the livid bruise on her leg. `This is untenable. That my countrymen have treated you in this way-‘

He bit off the words and drew in a breath that made his broad chest heave. Àpologies are insufficient for such a crime. But, for what it’s worth, you have mine.’

She shook her head, bemused. Ìt’s not your fault, Rafiq. You rescued us. Put yourself in danger to help.’

A single slashing movement of his hand cut her off.

Ìt sickens me that you have suffered violence at the hands of these men. Abduction and harm. When you are on the mainland, have no fear, you will be given the best of medical service. Counseling whatever is appropriate.’

She watched him stretch out his fingers in a deliberate movement of forced relaxation. It was totally at odds with the tension in his big frame.

And while you recuperate your attackers will be brought to justice.

They will not long escape their punishment.’ The stormy light in his eyes sent a thrill of apprehension skittering down her spine.

He paused. `We have extremely competent female doctors who can take care of you and discuss your…experiences.’

He turned his gaze from her as if to give her privacy. And in that moment she realized why he’d been so outraged at the sight of her injuries. Embarrassment warred with relief and the need to reassure him.

`Rafiq,’ she said, reaching out to touch his hand before she could change her mind. His fingers curled round hers and a jolt of blazing energy shot through her.

`They didn’t…’ She hesitated. `They only hurt me to get me to move, to obey them. They didn’t…’

`Rape you?’ His voice was a husky murmur. `No.’

She was fine. Really. She’d survived. Her injuries were minor. So why did the recollection of her kidnappers’ avid eyes upset her?

Why did she choke on the bitter taste of tears that blocked her throat and prickled her eyes?

` Habibti,’ Rafiq murmured, touching her cheek in a feather light caress that loosened her hold on her welling emotions even further.

`You’ve been through so much. There’s no need to fight yourself as well. There is no shame in feeling upset.’

She responded to the sound of his voice, rich and warm, as much as to his words. Blindly she nodded, instinctively leaning towards the comfort of his solid frame. His hands closed round her arms and her rigid control slipped another notch. She felt as if she were unraveling, the very core of her loosening, unwinding, fraying. The dam that held her emotions in check splintered. Relief and remembered terror roiled within her in great, sickening waves.

For a long moment he held her at a distance, his hands supportive, bracing. The first sob rose in her throat, raw and wretched. And with one decisive movement of superb strength he lifted her, pulling her into his arms to cradle her against his torso.

His lips moved against her hair, whispering words of reassurance as she cried out her pain. He rocked her slowly. The heat of his body seeped into the chill of hers and the scent of him, of sea and musk, banished the lingering taste of rancid horror from her mouth.

His heart was steady beneath her ear, calming, powerful.

Finally the storm of grief and pain eased.

Belle felt herself float, boneless and weightless, in his embrace.