She was beginning to hate it here, Antonia realised as the minutes ticked by. The ancient citadel was like nothing she had imagined, and had nothing to offer other than a home to desert rats and scorpions. It was ugly, and it stood in lonely isolation in the fire-pit of the world. She must have been mad to think she could restore it. Surely no human being could bear to live in a place that was so remote and hostile? It was sheer vanity on Antonia’s part to think she could wave a magic wand and transform this tumbling ruin into a welcome retreat for hard-pressed parents and their children. That was definitely a fantasy too far.
And where was Ra’id? She was growing increasingly anxious about him. Old buildings could be dangerous, and he had been gone a long while…
Antonia’s imagination started running riot. If Ra’id came to harm because of her, she would never forgive herself—and how would she help him here? The sooner they left the better, she concluded, regretting her earlier optimism.
She exclaimed with relief as he rode into view.
‘It’s safe to come in,’ he said, reining in his prancing stallion. ‘Antonia?’ he pressed when she hesitated. ‘Have you changed your mind? I thought you were on fire to see this?’
When she saw the glint in Ra’id’s eyes and realised this was a test, and that he expected her to turn tail and run back to the city as fast as she could, she said, ‘I am keen.’ And picked up the reins.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ANTONIA dismounted and led the pony into the cobbled courtyard. It was impossible to know what to expect once she went beyond the outer the walls of the old fortress, and she didn’t want to risk the horse stumbling. She felt sick and weak with disappointment—although pregnancy might have had something to do with it, Antonia conceded worriedly, unscrewing the stopper on her flask.
As she drained the cooling water she was conscious of Ra’id watching her. Had he guessed? Did he know that she was pregnant? She really couldn’t find the energy to fight him now; all her earlier defiance had drained away. It was one thing taking on a major building-project in the desert when she only had herself to worry about, but the baby meant more to her than anything else, and she hadn’t realised just how hostile and isolated an environment this was.
She was defeated before she even got started. She wanted to go home. The old fort was a dreadful place; no one could possibly live here. No wonder Helena had been miserable. It must have been nothing short of torment for a young girl to be shut away in the desert.
Lashing her horse’s reins to a rail, Antonia sank down on a hard stone mounting-block and put her head in her hands.
‘Are you all right?’
She lifted her head. Ra’id sounded genuinely concerned.
‘This isn’t too much for you, is it?’ he said.
‘No, I’m fine,’ she said stubbornly. ‘But, unlike you, I’m not used to the heat.’
‘It’s much cooler inside the walls.’
As he spoke, Ra’id was unwinding the folds of his headgear, slowly revealing his brutally handsome face. How could she have forgotten how the sight of him affected her? Antonia wondered, holding on to her composure by the slimmest of threads. ‘Yes, it is,’ she agreed, as if her heart wasn’t pumping furiously at the sight of Ra’id so close, so hot, so masculine. ‘In fact,’ she added, determinedly, ‘If there was only water on tap, this castle would be ideal for my purposes.’
‘Then it’s a pity you don’t have water on tap,’ Ra’id observed smoothly, reminding her never to be off her guard where he was concerned. ‘Shall we?’ he invited, gesturing towards the entrance to the living quarters in the old keep.
She was determined this would not be an emotional re-run of her visit to her mother’s forgotten room, though she was deeply conscious of walking in her mother’s footsteps as Ra’id led the way up the stone staircase to the main building.
This had to be the strangest experience she’d ever had, Antonia concluded. She was bursting with emotion at the thought of finally visiting the place where her mother had been exiled; finding out about her mother’s past was something she had waited her whole life to see and understand. And here she was at last with the father of her child walking beside her. It should have been perfect. But this was the same man who wanted nothing more than to be rid of her. Where Ra’id was concerned she had a blind spot, Antonia admitted. She could never stop looking for a sign that he still felt something for her. Keep looking, she thought as they began the tour of dilapidated rooms.
How terrified Helena must have felt when she had arrived here a virtual prisoner, Antonia mused, discarded and exiled to the desert where she could cause no embarrassment to the ruling sheikh, parted from her child—could anything be more dreadful? And never knowing if she would ever see her little boy again. How must Helena have felt as she walked beneath this same cold, stone arch into an austere and forbidding citadel? A gift of land would hardly heal those wounds.