Read Online Strangers in the Desert by Lynn Raye Harris - Free Book Online
Authors: Lynn Raye Harris
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Rafiq, and he wanted her now. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of asking her to marry him before, but the truthwas it hadn’t occurred to him until he’d needed to wed for the coronation.
He wanted Rafiq to have a mother, but not just any mother. He’d convinced his old nanny to come out of retirement to take care of his son, and he knew that his boy was in good hands with her. Loving hands. But Kalila was getting old and he felt guilty taking her away from her retirement.
Still, Adan was there every night, spending time with his son, playing with him, reading to him. Rafiq was loved in a way that Adan never had been. His own father had loved him, but he was a proud man incapable of showing true affection to his sons. They were meant to be hard men of the desert, not cosseted young men with a sense of entitlement.
But Adan didn’t believe Rafiq would be any less manly because his father loved him and wanted him to be happy. There was nothing on this earth better than walking into the nursery each night and seeing that little face light up with the purest love he’d ever seen.
Isabella had claimed to love him once. He hadn’t made that up, though she believed he had. He could still remember her saying it, after they’d made love one night. She’d been so young, so naive, and he’d pulled away from her, troubled. He didn’t know why.
Shortly after that, she’d learned she was pregnant. And then the morning sickness took over and he’d left her bed. He’d wanted her to rest, to be healthy, and he’d felt as if his presence disturbed her sleep.
Adan frowned. Had he told her why he’d stopped sleeping with her? Of course she’d known why they weren’t having sex—she’d been too ill to want it anyway—but had she realized why he’d left her alone in her bed?
It bothered him to think he hadn’t. But what difference would it have made?
The psychiatrist he’d had examine her upon their arrival today could tell him nothing he didn’t already know. Isabella claimed to have no memory of her marriage or of her baby. It was an unusual case, but not impossible. In consulting Isabella’s records, the doctor had frowned and said that she had shown signs of postnatal depression, though her symptoms hadn’t been abnormal at the time.
Baby blues were common enough, he’d said, and resulted from the changing hormones in a woman’s body. Sometimes, the depression got worse and could cause hallucinations or thoughts of harming oneself or one’s baby.
Adan had been shocked. He hadn’t realized that anything could be wrong with Isabella at the time. Then the doctor suggested that she might have tried to commit suicide. Her records up to her disappearance showed no antidepressant usage. If her doctor at the time had believed she was suffering from postnatal depression, he should have prescribed medication to mitigate it.
It was possible, too, that her doctor simply hadn’t recognized the signs. And Isabella would have been more vulnerable to the effect of the hormones on her body without them.
Adan didn’t quite know what to make of all the information, but as he reached the nursery, he firmly shoved thoughts of Isabella aside. All he wanted right now was to hold his son and spend time watching his toddler antics. Adan pushed open the door and went intothe suite of rooms that was overflowing with toys and games.
“Kalila,” he called, but no one answered. He went into the nursery itself, but Rafiq was not in his crib or playing on the floor.
He checked his watch. Kalila and Rafiq were usually here at this time of day. He stood for some moments, wondering, until, like a bolt of lightning, a thought shafted through him.
A terrible thought.
He’d had Isabella put as far from here as he could get her, yet these were still the family quarters and her rooms weren’t on another planet. They were simply down another corridor. He’d stationed a servant to make sure she didn’t leave her room, so it
He wanted Rafiq to have a mother, but not just any mother. He’d convinced his old nanny to come out of retirement to take care of his son, and he knew that his boy was in good hands with her. Loving hands. But Kalila was getting old and he felt guilty taking her away from her retirement.
Still, Adan was there every night, spending time with his son, playing with him, reading to him. Rafiq was loved in a way that Adan never had been. His own father had loved him, but he was a proud man incapable of showing true affection to his sons. They were meant to be hard men of the desert, not cosseted young men with a sense of entitlement.
But Adan didn’t believe Rafiq would be any less manly because his father loved him and wanted him to be happy. There was nothing on this earth better than walking into the nursery each night and seeing that little face light up with the purest love he’d ever seen.
Isabella had claimed to love him once. He hadn’t made that up, though she believed he had. He could still remember her saying it, after they’d made love one night. She’d been so young, so naive, and he’d pulled away from her, troubled. He didn’t know why.
Shortly after that, she’d learned she was pregnant. And then the morning sickness took over and he’d left her bed. He’d wanted her to rest, to be healthy, and he’d felt as if his presence disturbed her sleep.
Adan frowned. Had he told her why he’d stopped sleeping with her? Of course she’d known why they weren’t having sex—she’d been too ill to want it anyway—but had she realized why he’d left her alone in her bed?
It bothered him to think he hadn’t. But what difference would it have made?
The psychiatrist he’d had examine her upon their arrival today could tell him nothing he didn’t already know. Isabella claimed to have no memory of her marriage or of her baby. It was an unusual case, but not impossible. In consulting Isabella’s records, the doctor had frowned and said that she had shown signs of postnatal depression, though her symptoms hadn’t been abnormal at the time.
Baby blues were common enough, he’d said, and resulted from the changing hormones in a woman’s body. Sometimes, the depression got worse and could cause hallucinations or thoughts of harming oneself or one’s baby.
Adan had been shocked. He hadn’t realized that anything could be wrong with Isabella at the time. Then the doctor suggested that she might have tried to commit suicide. Her records up to her disappearance showed no antidepressant usage. If her doctor at the time had believed she was suffering from postnatal depression, he should have prescribed medication to mitigate it.
It was possible, too, that her doctor simply hadn’t recognized the signs. And Isabella would have been more vulnerable to the effect of the hormones on her body without them.
Adan didn’t quite know what to make of all the information, but as he reached the nursery, he firmly shoved thoughts of Isabella aside. All he wanted right now was to hold his son and spend time watching his toddler antics. Adan pushed open the door and went intothe suite of rooms that was overflowing with toys and games.
“Kalila,” he called, but no one answered. He went into the nursery itself, but Rafiq was not in his crib or playing on the floor.
He checked his watch. Kalila and Rafiq were usually here at this time of day. He stood for some moments, wondering, until, like a bolt of lightning, a thought shafted through him.
A terrible thought.
He’d had Isabella put as far from here as he could get her, yet these were still the family quarters and her rooms weren’t on another planet. They were simply down another corridor. He’d stationed a servant to make sure she didn’t leave her room, so it
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