Midnight Under The Stars: Woman in a Sheikh's World. Sarah Morgan

This wedding must go ahead.’

      ‘Because it is what her father wants?’

      ‘Because it is what I want. I need to reassure her that our marriage can work. I need her to know I am nothing like her father. I can protect her.’

      Avery stared at him numbly.

      Had he ever been this protective of her? No. Of course not. And she wouldn’t have wanted him to be. She didn’t need protecting, did she? She never had. What hurt was the fact that he could move from one woman to another with such ease. ‘So you’re about to leap onto horseback wielding your sword to protect her. Good. That’s … good. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the gesture.’ All this time she’d been telling herself that this marriage was no more than a political union. That he didn’t have feelings for Kalila.

      Clearly she’d been wrong about that, too.

      He had strong feelings. Why else would he be so determined to go through with this?

      Her throat felt thick. There was a burning sensation behind her eyes.

      Fortunately he didn’t notice. ‘She is extremely vulnerable. Not that I’d expect you to understand that. You don’t do “vulnerable”, do you?’

      He had no idea. ‘I understand that you want to slay her dragons.’

      ‘Whereas you would rather a man gave you a dragon so that you could slay it yourself.’

      ‘I’m an animal lover. If you’d bought me a dragon I would have kept it as a pet.’

      Once, an exchange like that would have ended in laughter. He would have challenged her. She would have challenged him right back and eventually the clash would have led where it always led—to the bedroom, or any other place that could afford them the privacy they craved.

      ‘I simply think it would be wiser if she learned to protect herself.’

      ‘Not every woman is like you.’ There was a dark bitterness in his tone that stung wounds still not healed. She’d started to despair they ever would be.

      Her stress levels soared skyward. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth. Her insides were churning and suddenly she wished she hadn’t drunk the coffee on an empty stomach. ‘I do see your problem. It’s hard to get married without a bride. However, while I sympathise with your dilemma and applaud your macho protective streak, which I’m sure your bride will find extremely touching, I really don’t understand my role in this. I carry spares of most things, but not brides I’m afraid.’

      ‘Kalila liked you. She admired you. She considered you her friend. Or as close to a friend as someone with her life could ever have.’ His wide shoulders shifted slightly as if he were trying to ease tension and she realised that he was every bit as stressed as she was. There was a glint in those eyes, a simmering tension in that powerful frame that told her he was feeling what she was feeling. ‘I’m asking for your help.’

      ‘My help?’ She wondered why he made her feel vulnerable. She was tall, but his height and build overpowered her. ‘I don’t understand how I can possibly help.’ Looking at him now, she wondered how they’d ever sustained their relationship for so long. He was so autocratic. Very much the Crown Prince, a man of breathtaking power and influence. There was no sign of the man who had laughed with her and enjoyed philosophical arguments long into the night. This man was austere and, yes, intimidating. Those eyes looked straight through to her mind, seeing things she didn’t want him to see. He’d once told her that he could judge a person’s reaction more accurately from what they did than what they said. It was a skill that had stood him in good stead in handling diplomatic tensions between neighbouring countries.

      Remembering that, she stood still and did nothing. She didn’t allow her gaze to slide from his. If her body language wasn’t silent, then at least it was muted. ‘I cannot imagine what help I can possibly offer. I organize parties. I have it on good authority that I lead a life of unimpeded frivolity.’

      The glance he sent her told her that he remembered that bitter exchange as well as she did. Her business had been just one more point of contention between them.

      ‘You are a resourceful and independent woman and you knew her. She talked to you—’ he ignored her reference to their past ‘—I wondered if you had any idea where she might have gone. Think back to your conversations. Did she ever say anything that might be of use? Anything at all.’

      She’d been trying to forget those conversations. She’d been trying to forget Kalila altogether because whenever she imagined her, she imagined her entwined with Mal and the image was so painful to view she wanted to close her eyes and scream.

      Feeling her hands start to shake again, Avery clasped them behind her back. ‘I honestly don’t—’

      ‘Come on, Avery, think! What did you talk about?’ His voice was harsh. ‘Several times you talked to her at parties. You helped her choose a dress when she hosted that charity dinner. You put her in touch with her wedding dress designer. She idolized you. You were her role model. She longed to be like you.’

      ‘Really?’ A small laugh escaped. Afraid that she sounded hysterical, she clamped her mouth shut. ‘Well, that’s ironic. I’m sure you talked her out of that fast enough.’

      His only response to that oblique reference to their shared past was a slight tightening of his beautiful mouth. ‘Did she say anything?’

      ‘No.’ Leave, why don’t you? Just leave, she thought. But of course he didn’t because the Prince didn’t leave until he had what he wanted. ‘I honestly don’t know where she would have gone.’ And worry slowly uncurled itself inside her because Kalila was vulnerable and Avery didn’t like to think of any woman being vulnerable. As soon as Mal left, she’d call her. Not that there were any guarantees that she’d pick up the phone but at least she would have tried.

      ‘Did she mention a particular place to you?’ Those ebony eyes locked on hers, his intention no doubt to increase the impact of his words. Instead he succeeded only in increasing the intimacy and the chemistry between them. His response to that was to frown. Hers was to back away, hit by such a powerful need to touch him that retreat seemed like the only option. And of course he noticed that step backwards, because he was a man who noticed everything.

      The tension snapped tight between them. Heat poured through her body and into her pelvis and still he looked at her and she looked right back at him because to look away was something her pride wouldn’t allow. Or maybe it was just because she couldn’t. The look connected them in a way far deeper than any verbal exchange and Avery felt her stomach plunge.

      ‘You’re the one with a high-tech security team just a phone call away.’ Somehow her voice sounded normal. ‘Can’t they track her down?’

      ‘Not so far. We think she might have adopted a disguise, but I can’t question people without raising suspicions and I want to solve this as discreetly as possible.’

      ‘Have you talked to her friends?’

      ‘She wasn’t allowed friends. She was raised in a very protected environment.’

      Avery remembered her saying as much when they’d spoken. Remembered thinking how odd it must be to live like that, a prisoner of luxury, locked away from reality.

      ‘You’re the one marrying her. You should be the one who knows where she is.’

      ‘We’ve spent very little time together.’ The admission was dragged from him with obvious reluctance and he paced over to the window, leaving her only with a view of his back. ‘I admit that was a failing on my part. I made assumptions.’

      ‘You always do. You always know what’s best for everyone.’

      The tension in his shoulders increased but he chose not to respond to that. ‘That is not important right now. What is important is finding her. If this marriage does not go ahead there