Protecting the Desert Princess. Carol Marinelli

brother who, after a brief hesitation, nodded. ‘Good.’ Layla smiled. ‘I want a red dress, red shoes, red…’

      Her list went on until they were at the hotel.

      Soon the Ishla royals and their retinue were taking up the entire top floor. There were guards at the lift and Layla paced her suite nervously, waiting for Trinity to come and take her shopping.

      ‘Let me do your hair again,’ Jamila offered.

      ‘My hair is fine,’ Layla said. ‘You can go and rest in your room now.’

      ‘I will wait for Trinity to get here.’

      ‘You are dismissed, Jamila.’ Layla said.

      All Layla wanted was to be alone with her thoughts and to go over her plans for a minute or two before Trinity arrived.

      Reluctantly Jamila went to her adjoining room. Layla looked at the lock on the door that stood between them and wanted to turn it.

      She wouldn’t have to turn it, Layla reminded herself.

      A few hours from now she would be free!

      Layla looked down at the streets below. Soon she would be down there amongst the noise and people.

      She could see yellow taxis everywhere.

      It was going to work!

      ‘Enter,’ Layla said when there was a knock at the door.

      ‘Layla, you have to open it from the inside!’ Trinity called.

      ‘Oh!’

      Fancy that.

      Layla was ready to go, but Trinity seemed to have other ideas.

      Zahid’s last words to Trinity had been, ‘Watch her.’ She looked at Layla, dressed in a long silver tunic and jewelled slippers. Her black hair had been taken out of the bun and was loose and glossy. Her absolute beauty would turn heads everywhere they went.

      ‘Would you like…?’ Trinity hesitated—she was still very new to being Zahid’s wife, and sometimes she simply didn’t know how to speak to Layla, who was so different from Trinity’s serious, rather more grounded husband. ‘Would you like to borrow some of my clothes to wear while we go shopping?’ Trinity offered.

      ‘Borrow?’ Layla screwed up her nose.

      ‘I’m just concerned that in what you’re wearing you’ll stand out and people might stare.’

      ‘But I always stand out,’ Layla said, ‘and people always stare. Come on—let us go shopping. I have been looking forward to this for a long time.’

      They passed the guards and took the elevator down, and then stepped out onto the hot, busy street. Layla was more than used to heat, and walked quickly ahead.

      ‘Slow down,’ Trinity said. ‘There’s no rush.’

      They wandered into boutique after boutique, but Layla was not really looking at the clothes—instead she was wondering how she could shrug Trinity off, for she was watching Layla like a hawk would watch its prey.

      ‘I would like to try that,’ Layla said, pointing to an ice cream shop.

      ‘Sounds good.’

      Still Trinity clung to her, and Layla’s impatience was increasing. Yes, the ice cream was refreshing, but would Trinity ever just give her five minutes to be alone?

      ‘Where to now?’ Trinity asked once they had finished their ice creams.

      ‘I might go for a little wander,’ Layla said casually.

      ‘Layla…’ Trinity swallowed. ‘Zahid said that I wasn’t to leave you alone.’

      ‘I am not a baby,’ Layla said, ‘I am twenty-four…’

      But she went to cross the road without so much as looking and Trinity grabbed her back just in time.

      ‘You have to wait for the lights to change before you cross.’ Trinity pointed to the traffic lights as they turned green and they started to cross. ‘I’m not leaving you alone, Layla. You can take it up with Zahid this evening if you want to, but for now…’

      Trinity’s voice trailed off as they walked across the road and Layla looked to where Trinity’s eyes had been drawn.

       Perfect!

      ‘Oh, look,’ Layla said, walking over to the window of the baby boutique that held Trinity in its spell. ‘Oh, Trinity, look at these sweet clothes—there is nothing like this in Ishla…’ From Trinity’s rapt expression, Layla knew her chance to escape was surely about to come. ‘Let’s go in.’

      They did just that.

      It wasn’t just clothes on display but teeny-tiny shoes and socks, and little cashmere baby blankets too, and of course, the assistant told Trinity, they’d be only too happy to ship to Ishla.

      ‘Why would you use a ship when we have a plane?’ Layla asked, but Trinity wasn’t listening—instead she was gazing at those little blankets and had the lost look in her eyes that Layla recognised from her cousins who had had babies.

      Layla slipped outside unnoticed, pulling an envelope out of her bag as she did so. If Trinity saw her Layla would say she was just stepping out for some air.

      On the street there was a yellow cab driving towards her, and Layla put up her hand as the clips she had watched on her computer had shown her she should.

      It obeyed!

      The driver did not get out and open the door for her, which made Layla cross, and she was glad that the window was wound down as the driver asked her where she wanted to go for it was a very smelly car.

      Layla gave him Mikael’s address. ‘I need you to hurry.’

      She did need him to hurry, for Trinity was racing out of the boutique.

      ‘Layla, wait!’ she shouted.

      ‘I shall be fine, Trinity.’ Layla threw the letter she had written in Arabic out of the window and shouted instructions to Trinity as the taxi pulled away. ‘Get Zahid to read this and do not tell my father.’

      She refused to feel guilty for ruining their honeymoon. Okay, maybe she felt a little guilty—but, Layla reminded herself, Zahid had had this sort of freedom for close to two decades when he had lived in England. Trinity had had it all her life.

      Layla just wanted a week.

      * * *

      Mikael’s day had not improved—not that he let anyone know it. He sat with his face impassive as he listened to the closing arguments from the prosecution barrister, who boo-hooed where Mikael had been expecting him to. A couple of members of the jury were even in tears. But then the prosecution hit him with an argument Mikael had not foreseen.

      Deliberately Mikael refused to reach for his notes or react.

      He just noted it in his head.

      Tomorrow his response would be savage.

      Tomorrow he would use every letter of the law that he had at his disposal.

      ‘I’m gone, aren’t I?’ his client said before heading back to the cells.

      ‘I haven’t closed yet,’ Mikael responded, though he gave no pep talk. He certainly wasn’t here to reassure or make friends with his clients. All he required from himself was to offer the best defence.

      It was a long walk back to chambers.

      The press were waiting, with their usual questions, and Mikael duly ignored them. His mouth was dry and he wanted the cool darkness of his office, where the heavy drapes would be closed and he could sit in silence and make notes on all that had been said today.

      ‘Don’t ask!’ Mikael warned his clerk