The Sheik's Angry Bride (12 page)

Layla stepped into their suite, pulling her earrings off and setting them carefully on the dresser.  She’d been here so little time that she hadn’t had a chance to redecorate but, as she stripped off her shoes and stockings, pulled the pins out of her hair, she focused every cell of her brain on how she would change this room.  It was her attempt to not think about how close she’d come to losing the man she…

No.  She wasn’t going to think about that any more.  It was over.  Time to move on.

It was late.  Or early, perhaps.  She wasn’t really sure what time it was any longer.  She suspected that it was in the early hours of the morning and she should probably be tired.  But she wasn’t.  She was still wired by everything that had happened. 

“Talk to me, Layla,” Garon said standing behind her. 

She looked at him in the mirror, her mind still on the kind of dressing table she’d like to put in here.  “We might need a smaller bed,” she told him, putting her diamond earrings on top of the ornate, wooden box that held his cufflinks. 

Garon sensed that she was in a strange mood, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it or what to say.  She looked exhausted, but in a wired, hyped up way.  “Okay.  We’ll get a smaller bed.  What are you thinking?”

She carefully worked the clasp on her diamond bracelet, her fingernail slipping underneath the hook closure.  “I’m thinking…” she pulled too hard and broke a nail.  “I’m thinking that I hate jewelry!” she yelled, wanting to rip the bracelet off of her wrist.

“Let me get that for you,” Garon said, moving forward. 

“No!” she came right back.  Her eyes were wild as she dared him to approach her.  “Don’t bother!  I can do this myself!”

Garon wasn’t sure what was going on.  “Layla, talk to me, love.  Tell me what’s really making you angry.”

Layla swiped at the tear that fell, shaking her head.  “Nothing!  I’m not angry at all!  Everything is perfectly fine I just can’t get this stupid bracelet off.”  And with that, she walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.  

Layla stared at her reflection in the mirror, not sure what was happening to her.  All she knew was that her body hurt.  Everywhere.  She leaned against the countertop but as the tears started flowing and the sobs wracked her body, her legs could no longer hold her upright.  She let her back slide down the cabinets, her whole body curling up into a heap as the fear reverberated back and forth from her mind to her heart.  She wasn’t sure which hurt more and, at this point, she didn’t care.  All she knew was that she wanted this pain, this soul-rending fear, to go away. 

A knock sounded on the door and she jerked upright.  “Layla, are you okay?”

She wiped her face and stood up, using the counter to hold her up.  She took a band and pulled her hair back then quickly started washing her face.  “I’m fine,” she called back, not giving him any details.  Talking through the door helped to mask the strange tone of her voice. 

Garon was not fooled though.  “You’re not okay.  I can hear it in your voice.”

Layla ignored him, not wanting to talk with him tonight.  Or ever, she thought. 

She finished washing her face and walked out, grabbing a pillow off of the bed and walking out of the bedroom.

Garon saw the pillow in her hand and the intent in her eyes.  Fury welled up inside of him.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Garon demanded, noting that she was still in her evening gown. 

Layla ignored him as she walked over to the sofa.  She plopped the pillow down and started to do the same but Garon grabbed her arm and spun her around.  “Layla, so help me if you don’t start talking to me…”  He let the threat hang in the air between them. 

She jerked her arm out of his grip and laid down, ignoring him when he towered over her. 

With a muttered curse, Garon stomped back to the bedroom, obviously furious but unwilling to try and get her to talk about whatever was bothering her.  He suspected she was still upset about the attack, which would make sense, but if she wasn’t going to talk to him, he couldn’t help her.  And he was damned if he was going to beg.

Layla lay on the sofa, images of the explosion and ball of fire, not to mention Garon’s face, covered in black soot after the horrible attack, running through her mind.  Over and over, she pictured the day, the events of the morning frame by frame and she couldn’t stop the trembling or the tears.  But she kept her pain silent, not wanting Garon to storm back in here and try and talk to her.  She was finished.  She wasn’t going to do this any longer.  She knew he needed an heir, but he’d just have to find some other woman to produce that child with because she couldn’t do this. 

This love, the painful, wrenching fear of losing him, wasn’t going to work for her.  She couldn’t do it.  She’d just discovered her feelings for him and then this happened.  It wasn’t fair and she just…nope.  She wasn’t going to deal with it.  She couldn’t.  She wasn’t strong enough. 

Garon lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as his anger increased.  He could hear her sniffling in the other room and he hated the sound.  When he heard her hiccup, he knew that she was crying and he couldn’t take it any longer.  Her sobs made his chest and his gut ache.  Not to mention, he wanted her in his arms where she belonged. 

Snapping the sheets back, he walked into the sitting room and stared down at her.  She was curled up into a ball of misery on the sofa, the blanket barely covering her as she sobbed out the pain and confusion she was feeling.  She still wouldn’t look at him so he took matters into his own hands.  Literally. 

Lifting her up, he carried her into the bedroom. 

Layla had known that he was beside her but she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t see his magnificent body that was most likely naked because the man didn’t own a pair of pajamas.  Why would he?  Why cover up anything as magnificent as that body? 

But she hadn’t been expecting him to simply lift her into his arms.  “What are you doing?!” she demanded, trying to get out of his arms but he was too strong and he held her wiggling body easily.  “I’m not sleeping with you!” she raged, too afraid of what she might reveal to him if she fell into his arms again. 

“You’re not doing a hell of a lot of sleeping out there either, so you’ll just have to be miserable in here.  With me!”

Layla jumped up the moment he put her into bed.  She was still in her evening gown but as she stood up on the other side of the bed, she looked at him and gasped.  “You’re naked!” Damn it, she’d known he would be but the sight of him standing there still had the power to make her body tingle all over.  She knew what this man could do to her, how his simple touch could make her body arch and beg and plead for more. 

Garon rolled his eyes.  “Of course I am!  I was in bed.  Right were you should have been!”

“Put some clothes on!”

“Get into bed, Layla,” he commanded through gritted teeth.

“No!  I’m not getting into bed with you.”

He was exhausted from hours of meetings and briefings, bruised from the attack and hard as a rock because she was close by.  He wasn’t going to put up with this any longer.  “Get into the bed, or I will make you!”

Layla stepped back, her anger going up another ten notches.  “I’m not getting into bed with you!” she told him, pointing at the messed up bed.  “I’m not having sex with you.  I’m not having a child with you.  I’m not falling in love with you and I refuse to be married to you any longer.”

“Sorry, but all of those things are already happening.  There’s not a hell of a lot you can do about it!”

She inhaled sharply.  “Want to bet on that?” she shouted back, her hands fisting at her sides while she put the bed between them. 

Garon suddenly understood what was going on and his anger instantly evaporated.  His eyes softened even if his body couldn’t.  “You’re angry about this morning, aren’t you love?” he asked with a calmer voice. 

She stiffened, fearing that he could see into her thoughts so easily.  “This morning only proved that I am not the woman for this job.  You’ll just have to find someone else.”

And that was the crux of the issue, he realized.  Walking around, he approached her carefully.  “Layla, today was wrong.  But it won’t happen again.”

She watched him, backed up until she was cornered but still shook her head.  “No Garon!  Stay away from me.  And don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

She was right.  He couldn’t promise that there wouldn’t be another attack.  “Okay, so let’s go through your issues,” he suggested.  “First of all, you’re already married to me.  So, at least for the moment, that isn’t going to change.”

“I’ll change it quickly,” she told him, wiping at the traitorous tears that fell down her cheeks again.  Why couldn’t she turn off the water works, she asked herself?  It was horrible the way she was angry one moment and tearful the next.  She should be stronger but she couldn’t seem to stop the roller coaster her emotions seemed to be on today. 

He didn’t argue that point but there was no way in hell he was going to let her divorce him. 

“Okay, then let’s look at the other issues.  You’re not going to fall in love with me.”

“Right!”  She nodded her head for emphasis. 

“But honey, you’re already in love with me.”  He watched her fairy eyes widen and he tried hard not to laugh.  “And I love you.”

She shook her head.  “No!  This is an arranged marriage.  Love has nothing to do with what we have.”

He shrugged his shoulders.  “I love you,” he repeated.  “And you love me.  It shows in the small things.”

She sobbed and covered her mouth with her hands.  “No.  I refuse to love you.”  She knew that she was madly in love with him, but she didn’t want to admit it out loud.  That would make it more real, more powerful. 

He took her shoulders gently, pulling her closer.  “You love me.  And I love you to distraction, so let’s just go over the other issues.”

He picked her back up in his arms and carried her over to one of the big chairs, sitting down with her in his lap.  “So we’re in love with each other and in an arranged marriage.  Seems like things worked out pretty well.”

“Except someone is trying to kill you,” she cried, unable to hold herself away from him any longer.  Her arms wrapped around his neck in a vice-like grip but Garon didn’t mind.  He’d rather not breathe than to have her leave him.  Rubbing his hands up and down her back in a soothing manner, he addressed her issue.  “Someone is always trying to kill me.  I get death threats daily.”

Her arms tightened around him with those words.  “Make them stop,” she sobbed. 

He laughed softly.  “We’ll tighten security around the palace and I won’t leave for a while.  At least until the threats are less credible.  Okay?”

She thought about that for a moment.  “Okay,” she sighed, weak with relief that he was at least taking the threats seriously and would take precautions. 

“And you’re already pregnant with our child, Layla.”

He felt her whole body stiffen with those words.  She pulled back to look at him, her blue eyes wide and unfocused.  “I’m not pregnant.”

He looked down at her.  “Are you sure?  You’re sick every morning and feeling fine in the afternoon.”  He waited a moment before he continued.  “We’ve been together for three weeks and you haven’t had your period.  Are you telling me that you had it right before the wedding?”

Layla’s body just about blacked out again as she counted back the weeks.  She should have had her period more than a week ago!  “I’m not pregnant!” she whispered urgently. 

He touched her lips with his thumb.  “I think you are.”

When her mind finally accepted the possibility, the sobs only increased.  She wasn’t sure what to do or to think.  “I can’t divorce you if I’m pregnant.”

He laughed as she sagged against him.  “I wouldn’t let you divorce me even if you weren’t pregnant, Layla.  You’re my wife.  We’re in this together.”

She shook her head.  “No.  I’m not strong enough for this.  I can’t handle it.”

“You can.  You did.”  He leaned back, coaxing her to relax against his chest.  “And you handled everything beautifully today.  You were right there, ready to help with whatever came up. You soothed the excitement right along with me and I’ll never forget that.  Every reporter was charmed and the palace staff think you’re some sort of goddess now.  They love you and I suspect most of them would die to protect you.”

She buried her nose against his throat, having trouble swallowing because she still hadn’t been able to face the reality of what someone had tried to do earlier today.  To him!  They’d tried to kill her husband!  “I was so scared.  I thought I’d lost you.”

“I didn’t die.  I wasn’t even hurt.”

“You could have.”

“Yes,” he replied, accepting the truth.  “It is always possible that someone could kill me.  But I employ a large number of very intelligent men and women who are all dedicated to preserving my life,” he said that with a bit of derision.  “They are dedicated to their jobs and are still looking to find the person who did this.”  He let his words sink in before he continued.  “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather spend as many days with you as possible rather than live without you somewhere else.”

She didn’t move as her mind absorbed those words.  “What are you saying?” she asked.