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Midnight Under The Stars


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up”, just “this is a pointless conversation”. Do they give speeding tickets out here? Because if they do then you’re going to get one. You seem angry. Are you angry?’ She was pushing him and he realised just how easy he made that for her. It was doubly frustrating because normally the desert relaxed him.

      ‘I’m concerned about Kalila. It’s important that we make the edge of the mountains by dusk.’ He slowed the speed fractionally, exasperated with himself for allowing her to wind him up. ‘I know a good place to camp, but I want to set up while there is still some light.’ That observation was greeted by silence.

      ‘So no chance of reaching your bride tonight then?’

      ‘If she is where her sister suspects she is, then no. We will have to stop for one night.’ A night alone in the desert with this woman. He was greeting that prospect with almost as much enthusiasm as his impending wedding.

      ‘So if her sister knew where she was going, why didn’t she stop her?’

      ‘She didn’t know. Kalila sent her the same note she sent me. Jasmina was afraid of her father’s reaction, so she contacted me instead. Which was fortunate because at least we have more to go on than we did before. She is covering for her sister. At the moment the Sheikh does not even know his daughter is not in her rooms.’

      ‘Her father sounds like a real treasure. Better to not have one than have one who induces fear.’

      It was the first time he’d ever heard her mention her father.

      Mal turned his head and glanced at her, but she was looking forwards, a tiny frown between her eyes as she focused on the sand dunes that rose either side of them. ‘I love how they change colour with the light. And the way the pattern changes—it’s fascinating.’

      ‘It’s the combination of wind and sun.’ He’d watched her fall in love with the exotic, mysterious dunes the first time round and he could still remember the delight on her face when she’d witnessed her first desert sunset. Another irony, he thought, that this woman who had been raised in a Western city should feel an affinity for the place of his birth while Kalila, with her desert heritage, found the place nothing short of repellent. ‘Your father wasn’t around when you were young?’

      ‘Are we playing psychotherapy next?’ She met question with question and he sighed, wondering what it took to get her to open up.

      ‘In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never talked about your father.’

      ‘That’s because there is nothing to say.’ Her cool tone was like a wind blown straight from the Arctic, her words designed to freeze that line of questioning in mid-flow.

      Mal refused to be deflected even though part of him was wondering why he was choosing to ask these questions now, when it was too late for them. ‘Did he leave when you were young?’ It was a personal question, and probably unadvised given his vow to avoid the personal, but nevertheless he asked it. He’d always assumed that her father was somehow responsible for her aversion to marriage but she’d never given him any detail.

      ‘Why the sudden interest in my father? We were talking about Kalila’s situation, not mine.’

      ‘I’m just thinking it must have been hard for you growing up without a man in your life.’

      ‘You’re doing it again—assuming that a woman needs a man to survive.’

      Mal breathed deeply, refusing to rise. ‘That is not what I assume. Why are you deliberately misinterpreting my words?’

      ‘I’m not. I just know you, Mal.’

      ‘Maybe you don’t.’ He wondered how he could have been so blinkered. She was afraid. Why hadn’t he seen that before?

      ‘We both know you have very traditional views on the role of women.’

      ‘Do not assume to know what I am thinking.’

      ‘It’s not hard to guess. You’re marrying a woman you barely know so that you can have a traditional set-up and breed children.’

      ‘Is it so wrong to think a child benefits from being raised in a traditional family unit?’

      ‘I wasn’t raised in a traditional family unit and I’m fine.’

      No, he thought. You’re not fine. ‘I’m not saying that a child can’t be fine with one parent. But family offers security.’

      ‘You’re talking rubbish. Take Kalila’s father—would she be better off with a mother who teaches her to be strong and independent or a father who bullies her?’ She spoke just a little too quickly. Was a little too anxious to move the conversation away from her own situation.

      Mal thought of his own father. Strict, yes, and often busy, of course. But never too busy to spend time with his son. ‘Your mother didn’t remarry?’

      ‘I don’t know why you’re going on about fathers. Kalila’s has frightened her into running away and yours has pressured you to marry a woman you barely know.’

      She hadn’t answered his question. ‘He didn’t pressure me.’ This was the point where he should tell her the truth about his union with Kalila but something held him back. ‘We are well suited.’

      ‘Because you give out the orders and she says yes? That’s not a relationship, Mal. That’s servitude. You’ve barely had a conversation with her. You know nothing about her likes and dislikes and you have no idea why she’s run away or where she could be heading. None of that suggests an unbreakable bond.’

      Their conversations had always been lively, but never before today had she been so openly antagonistic. It was as if she were trying to goad him.

      ‘I have a great deal of respect for Kalila and I value her opinion.’

      ‘When has she ever expressed an opinion? When has she ever actually voiced a thought that isn’t yours?’

      ‘Perhaps we think alike.’

      Her beautiful mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘More likely she’s afraid to tell you what she really thinks. Or perhaps she doesn’t even know what she really thinks because she’s never been allowed to find out. You need to do something about that, Your Highness. Not only is it politically incorrect to want a passive wife, it’s going to bore you in five minutes.’ The car bumped into a pothole and she winced. ‘And while you’re ruling the world, you really do need to do something about the state of your roads.’

      And the state of his nerves. He was tense. On edge. Angry. ‘This road is not my responsibility. We left Zubran half an hour ago. You are now in Arhmor and infrastructure has never been a high priority for the Sheikh.’ The scenery had changed. They were approaching mountains and the road was rougher. Everything about Arhmor was rougher. ‘Let’s hope we don’t blow a tyre. This is not somewhere to break down.’

      ‘So instead of mending his roads, the Sheikh tries to build his empire. I suppose that’s what this marriage is about, is it? You are the wealthier state. I assume he’s hoping that if you marry his daughter, you’ll fix his roads for him.’

      ‘It’s true that this marriage will bring political advantages—’ Mal turned the wheel to avoid another deep rut in the road ‘—but that is not the only reason for the marriage. Kalila is a princess with an impeccable bloodline.’

      ‘You make her sound like breeding stock. On the other hand, I suppose that’s what she is. A brood mare to produce lots of little Sultans for the future.’ Her tone flippant, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder. ‘Are you sure you’re taking the right route? Because according to the sat nav you should have turned left back there. You should have let me drive. Everyone knows a man can’t do two things at once.’

      She was definitely goading him.

      What he didn’t understand was why. Why would she want to make this journey more difficult