Maybe it had something to do with the overcast sky when normally it was true blue and cloudless this time of year. He gazed at the gathering cloud cover. The wind hadn’t picked up enough to trigger a sandstorm so that was something at least. Especially since the convoy Nadir had sent out to find Zach had located the four-wheel drive he had been using overturned and buried in the sand. He hadn’t told Imogen but he felt slightly sick at the thought that something sinister had happened to his brother. Fortunately no body had been recovered, which meant that he hadn’t been buried along with the vehicle.
He knew he should probably call off the wedding until he knew what had happened but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t think he’d properly relax until Imogen was truly his, which was ridiculous because she’d already agreed to marry him and she seemed happy about it. Or was she just making the best of a bad situation?
He frowned, recalling her slight hesitation the night before when he’d asked her if she was happy. She’d said yes and he had no reason to believe she was lying but that hesitation... Telling himself he was being paranoid, he counted off the other thing bothering him. The leadership position. For days now his mind had been vacillating over what to do about it and for a man who was used to making quick decisions that was just damned annoying.
His daughter bounced excitedly in his arms and he refocused his attention on the one area of his life he felt he had a handle on.
He had taken her early so that Imogen could relax in a deep scented bath and be prepared for him like so many brides had been prepared for their men in times gone by. He’d looked at her seriously and told her it was a tradition she couldn’t refuse. She had laughed and said she was a girl and not only would she not refuse, but she’d revel in it while she was there.
That had set off all sorts of images in his head about her naked and wet and smelling like the sweetest flower. Tasting like the sweetest flower.
Nadeena pointed to something over his shoulder and started babbling. ‘What is it, habibti?’ he asked before his mind wandered any further down the sex route. One night away from Imogen and he felt as randy as a teenager who’d just been given the green light to go all the way.
He turned in the direction of Nadeena’s chubby finger and saw a young stable hand grooming a mare outside the stables.
‘Hisaan,’ he told her. ‘Horse.’
He strode over to it and stroked its arched neck. His sister had loved horses and suddenly a picture of her materialised in his mind and guilt assailed him, as it always did when he thought of her. As it usually did when he felt happy.
‘If this was Nadeena and she had made a mistake like the one you feel you made would you want her to punish herself for it for ever?’
She was smart, his Imogen, smart to strike right at the heart of the issue because of course he wouldn’t want that for her. So why did he want it for himself?
He shook his head. As awful as that time had been, perhaps it was time he dealt with it and put it behind him. Of course he would change it if he could but he couldn’t. But what he could do was take care of his own family. He could do what was right by them. Do what was right by Imogen.
He watched as his daughter gathered her confidence and reached out to place her hand against the horse’s soft muzzle. The horse snorted a breath and she drew back, her wide eyes flying to his for reassurance. He gave it to her. Smiling and putting his hand back on the horse, encouraging her to do the same. ‘It’s okay, habibti. Nothing will happen to you while I have you.’ His heart clenched as she followed his lead and then the skin on the back of his neck prickled. He glanced back towards the palace and saw Imogen watching them from the balcony of the temporary suite she had occupied the night before. Time seemed to stop and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.