Lost to the Desert Warrior

As she pushed aside the flap she expected to see Nadia, but the tent was empty apart from the little girl who sat alone in the enormous bed, shuddering and screaming at some imaginary terror. At her feet lay the two Saluki, whimpering and looking at the child in alarm and confusion, as if they sensed a threat but couldn’t identify it.

Mouth dry, Layla stared at the dogs. Nothing but a screaming child could have propelled her forward.

Her heart was kicking at her ribcage—not just because to get to the child meant stepping over fur and teeth, but because the sound of the screaming brought back so many memories of Yasmin, terrified and clinging to her.

She threw one last glance over her shoulder, in case there was someone else who could do this, but there was no sign of Nadia or the bodyguards who were supposed to be in attendance.

Trying to look confident, she stepped over the Saluki as gracefully as a ballerina, braced to feel those sharp teeth close around her ankle.

The dog closest to the bed growled, a menacing rumble low in its throat, but it didn’t move from its position.

Taking that as a good sign, Layla crawled onto the bed and snuggled down with the child, stroking her back and talking to her, hoping desperately that the tone of her voice would do the trick and the child wouldn’t wake and realize that the comfort came from a stranger.

‘There, you’re safe now—and you need to go back to sleep.’ She talked nonsense, and then decided a story might help. ‘Once upon a time...’ She told the same stories she’d told her sister at the same age, remembered them word for word, and the familiarity of the ritual soothed her as well as the child. She talked quietly until the little girl’s breathing suggested she was deeply asleep while all the time the two Saluki lay by the bed, heads on paws, watching her.

Afraid that if she moved she’d wake the child, Layla stayed still, her fingers tangled in the dark curls that belonged to Raz Al Zahki’s daughter. Looking down at that sweet, vulnerable face, now smeared with tears, she felt her heart twist.

What had she been through?

What had she suffered?

She’d stay just a while. Until she was sure the girl was asleep.

Then she’d return to her bed and he wouldn’t be any the wiser.

* * *

The red ball of the dawn sun was rising up behind the mountainous dunes when Raz rode back into the camp two days later. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, his head pounding following long days spent in meetings with senior tribal members.

He needed sleep, but nowhere near as much as he needed a swim.

It was still early and everything was quiet and still. No one was stirring.

Having handed over his stallion to one of the waiting grooms, he made straight towards the tent where his daughter slept, noticing with a frown that there was no sign of the guard.

Fear for his daughter fuelled his stride.

Entering quietly, he stood for a moment on the threshold, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, relieved to see the dogs sprawled protectively at the foot of the bed.

The familiar sight of the lump in the bed brought relief rushing down on him—and then he realised that the lump was bigger than usual.

Stepping closer, he saw that there in the bed, with her arms wrapped around his daughter, was Layla.

Shock and surprise were replaced by anger, and then another, darker emotion he didn’t dare examine too closely.

The dogs sensed the change in his mood and growled, and those growls woke the child. Her expression brightened as she saw her father and she sat up sleepily, the movement waking Layla.

Her eyes opened and her gaze met his, blank at first and then alight with consternation.

Sitting up, she clutched at the sheet. ‘We weren’t expecting you so early.’

‘Evidently.’ His tone was silky soft and he saw the colour return to her cheeks as she met his hostile gaze.

‘I’m pleased you’re early.’ Zahra slid out of the bed, paused to hug and kiss the dog closest to her, and ran across to him, arms outstretched. ‘Has Shakira had her foal?’

‘Not yet.’ Raz scooped her into his arms. Her hair brushed against his jaw and he felt his insides knot with love. It was a love that overwhelmed every emotion he’d ever felt. A love that made a strong man vulnerable. And he felt that vulnerability now as he held her and felt those slender arms tighten around his neck.

‘When can we go and see her?’

‘Soon.’ He hugged her protectively, his eyes still on the woman in the bed. ‘Zahra, I want you to play with your toys for a minute while I speak to Layla.’