The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(66)
Tally sank into the cushions of her couch, the old suede sofa more comfortable than attractive and the cushions gave way, swallowing her up even as she brushed away a stray tear.
To hell with him. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need another person in her life that didn’t want her, or appreciate her. She’d spent way too many years throwing herself away, not valuing herself. She wouldn’t do it again. Not anymore. Which is why she wouldn’t cry for herself, or feel sorry for herself, or have one single regret much less one sad thought. He wasn’t worth it.
He wasn’t.
Not even if he was her husband and the horrible man she’d fallen in love with.
Tally grabbed a pillow and punched it and punched again.
If only he wasn’t so impossible.
And so good-looking.
And smart.
And amazing in bed.
Howling her frustration, Tally threw the pillow up, up at the industrial ceiling shot with massive metal trusses and beams. “I hate you, Tair,” she roared at the ceiling as the pillow came down at her. She caught it neatly and tossed it again. “I will hate you forever!”
Damn him.
They shouldn’t have ever had fun together. Much less really good sex. One could forget a man that was bad company, a man that was rude, crude, boorish. But sexy? Mysterious? Powerful? Interesting? Tender?
Stop thinking about him, she told herself. Stop thinking about the desert, and the starlit nights. Stop thinking about his smelly goatskin tents and the acrid smell of smoke and the fire burning late into the night. Put all thoughts of soft silk pillows and handwoven rugs and the perfume of roses and orange blossoms out of mind. Pretend you never slept curved against Tair’s side, his arm around you, your cheek against his chest. Pretend you never listened to his heartbeat. Pretend you don’t know every scar on his face and torso. Pretend you didn’t lie awake some nights and worry about him, worry about his foolish courage, his lack of fear, his inability to protect himself as long as someone else is in danger…
Tally caught the pillow again and clutched it to her chest.
He’d never put himself first, not when others are in danger.
As she’d been in danger.
Tally felt the prickle start inside her, in her chest, and then her throat, working from the inside out until her forehead had the same tingling and her heart beat faster, harder, beat with a strange sense of awareness, an awareness that hadn’t been there until a moment ago. But now that the thought was there it wasn’t going away…
And she didn’t know what to think.
Could Tair have sent her away, not because he didn’t love her, but because he did?
Goose bumps covered her arms, the fine little hairs standing and everything inside her seemed to be turning inward, listening. Listening to her heart.
Listening to instinct, because wasn’t that what Tair had taught her? Not to listen to the voice of fear, but the voice of calm inside her? The voice of strength?
He didn’t not care for her.
He did.
He did.
She jumped up from the sofa, crossed the floor in long jerky strides, arms folded over her chest and tears hot and cold burned her eyes.
It hit her. Hit her so hard. Tair sent her away because he didn’t want her hurt. He sent her away because he was afraid he couldn’t protect her. He sent her away because he couldn’t bear to have her hurt.
My God.
Why hadn’t she seen it before? Understood?
Tally stopped at the loft window overlooking the street. It was a Sunday afternoon and traffic was light. No football game at the Seahawks stadium, no crowds, summer tourists gone. Just late afternoon sun breaking through the bank of clouds, splinters of long gold light and the green and yellow trolley traveling between all-brick buildings.
Here she was, safe in Seattle, just the way Tair wanted. But how was he? Where was he? What was he doing?
Tally stood at the window a long time, long enough to watch the clouds clear and the sun set, and the gold and red colors of autumn give way to burnt-orange and purple of dusk.
When it was dark, the sun gone, sunlight replaced by street lamps, Tally knew what she had to do. Knew where she had to go. Knew it wouldn’t be easy but she was Tair’s woman and she had to be where he was. It wasn’t an option. She had no choice.
Two long flights, one terrifying helicopter landing, and a camel ride later, Tally had to admit that things were going badly.
She’d only been back in Ouaha twenty-four hours and she’d already been robbed, and left for dead. Not an auspicious return. Not exactly the homecoming she’d envisioned. She’d imagined well…not this.