The Sheikh's Princess Bride

The door crashed open.

‘Ah, habibti.’ The deep voice curled reassuringly around her. ‘It’s all right. I’m here. I’ll look after you.’

She closed her eyes as strong arms wrapped around her naked body and lifted her high against a solid chest.

‘Tariq.’ She breathed deep, inhaling that unique tang that was his, her body melting into the comfort of his embrace. ‘I thought you hadn’t heard me. I thought—’

‘Shh. It’s all right. I’ve got you. I won’t leave your side.’

* * *

Hours later Samira looked up into eyes that had darkened to moss green. That wide, proud forehead was wrinkled with concern but his smile was brilliant.

‘She looks like you,’ he murmured in a voice that brushed like velvet over her skin.

‘Right now I’m not sure that’s a good thing.’ Euphoric and still stunned at the abrupt but safe delivery of their wonderful, tiny daughter, Samira had no illusions about her appearance. She’d be exhausted if she weren’t floating in seventh heaven.

‘It’s an excellent thing.’ Tariq stepped closer, holding their child in the crook of his arm. Samira’s heart rolled over at the sight of him holding that tiny, precious life so gently. ‘You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. No one can hold a candle to you.’

Samira told herself he was being kind but the way his eyes gleamed as he looked between her and the baby stopped the words in her mouth. He looked...smitten.

She blinked, fighting back what she told herself were tears of exhaustion.

‘Samira? What is it?’ Instantly Tariq was at her side. ‘Are you in pain?’ Already he was reaching for the call button to summon medical staff.

She shook her head. ‘I’m just a little overcome.’

Not just by the birth, which had been unusually short for a first delivery. But by Tariq. He’d been with her the whole time, a rock to cling to, his words of encouragement just what she needed, his strength giving her strength.

Through it all she’d seen in his eyes something far more profound than concern for her physical wellbeing. No husband could have been more tender, more supportive or proud.

No matter what he’d said before, Tariq cared. She knew it as surely as she knew she’d just been through a life-changing experience.

Carefully he sat on the edge of the hospital bed. ‘Everything will be all right.’

Looking into his glowing eyes Samira could believe it. Surely the miracle she’d hoped for had happened? He wasn’t distancing himself now, erecting barriers between them.

He reached out to brush the hair back from her face, his touch a gentle caress of her flushed cheek.

Slowly, infinitely slowly, he leaned forward to press his lips to hers in the sweetest of kisses. Her lips parted and she tasted the intriguing salty, male tang of him. His tongue slicked hers, drawing her essence into his mouth, and she sighed at the rightness of it.

‘Sleep now, Samira.’ The words washed over her as her eyelids fluttered shut.

She smiled. Beyond all expectation everything was going to be all right.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SAMIRA WATCHED SILENTLY from the doorway as Tariq paced the nursery with little Layla in his arms. As ever, her heart somersaulted in her chest as she saw him with their daughter. There was no doubt she was the apple of his eye, as precious to him as the twins.

He’d always been good with children, hadn’t he? It was one of the reasons Samira had married him.

Pain scored deep. Pity he wasn’t as good with wives.

Correction: with her. He’d been an adoring, devoted husband to his first wife. But then he’d doted on Jasmin, everyone said so.

Samira’s hand curled around the door jamb as anguish sucked the air from her lungs and swiped the strength from her knees.

Weeks ago in hospital, she’d mistaken Tariq’s delight in their baby for something else. She’d believed he cared for her in the way she craved. But she’d been horribly mistaken.

It was as if those moments of intimacy had never been.

She pressed the heel of her hand to the tearing ache in her chest. Yet nothing could stop the grief ripping her apart.

Terrible as it had been before Layla’s birth to know Tariq didn’t love her, she’d found the strength to bear it. But now, after her luminous joy in the hospital when she’d been so sure he cared, the awful, polite emptiness of their marriage was destroying her.