Read Online The Sheikh's Destiny (Harlequin Romance) by Melissa James - Free Book Online

after—
    Hana closed her eyes. They were two of a kind, seeing themselves through a warped reflection of what they’d done…or should have done. Or what they’d left undone. Nothing was good enough.
    She ached to comfort him, but didn’t even know how to comfort herself after five years. The only thing he could do to forgive himself was to go back to the world that needed himas much as he needed to be there, to find restoration in his family and his people.
    But how could she tell him that when she couldn’t make herself go home, couldn’t face her own family?
    â€˜How bad will it be for the village?’ he asked as he turned to look at the north.
    She glanced at him, saw the readiness to blame himself for anything that happened at Shellah-Akbar, and deliberately softened her tone. ‘They’ll tear it apart to find the supplies—but they’ve done that before, and found nothing.’ She chewed her energy bar, choosing to hide the worst from him, and acknowledging that she felt some need to protect him. He was carrying enough guilt on those broad shoulders. ‘I told Malika and Haytham to hold to the story that you’re my husband, and we ran because we overheard the men speaking about Sh’ellah’s plans for me.’
    â€˜Will they believe it?’
    If they told Sh’ellah that, he’d go on a rampage to find me and kill you. She kept her tone gentle. ‘They might believe it. If they can’t find the food, they’ll have nothing else to go on.’
    â€˜Where do you hide the food?’ he asked, his voice thick, and she knew she hadn’t fooled him a bit.
    She carefully didn’t look at him as she said, ‘We trade on the old custom of fear of the dead, and bury everything in graves, usually beneath the coffins of the children.’
    â€˜Your people will do that?’ he asked, sounding startled.
    Understanding what he was asking, relieved to take the topic from anything that hurt him so deeply, she nodded. ‘At first they resisted, so I did it myself. Then, when Sh’ellah’s men wouldn’t disturb the dead, and the spirits didn’t destroy me for what I’d done, they helped me. I’ve found many people will put aside the most frightening of their customs and beliefsin their need to survive,’ she said quietly, ‘to save their children.’ Her parents would have done the same. It was always family first…which was why they’d had to choose: marry Hana off quickly to a bad man, or ruin Fatima’s chances of ever finding a good man. Fatima had only been seventeen.
    It was said that to understand was to forgive…but though she’d always understood the dilemma her parents had faced, choosing to bow to community pressure, and sacrifice one sister for the sake of the other, she’d never found forgiveness in her heart. I was innocent, too! Did you ever for a moment think I hadn’t done what he said?
    Alim turned towards the south, squinting in concentration. ‘What will you do now?’
    â€˜Go to the refugee camp.’ But she couldn’t stay there for long; it was too public, too exposed. Her father might have sent someone to look for her there, ask for her by name, or for a woman with her description, including the Australian accent—which was why the burq’a came everywhere with her, and she spoke Maghreb whenever possible. ‘Then they’ll reassign me to another village that needs a nurse.’
    â€˜There’s a dust cloud about four kilometres away, heading towards us,’ he said, frowning to the south.
    â€˜Pick up anything that tells them we were here, use your jacket to cover footprints and body imprints and let’s go,’ she said tensely. She pulled a ripped cotton sheet from her backpack in four pieces, and tied two to his ankles, and to hers. ‘It’s far from perfect, but the ground is so dry our footprints will