The Husband She Never Knew(7)
Author: Kate Hewitt

Sighing impatiently, Ammar pushed away from the table. The day stretched emptily in front of him, for he had no doubt Noelle was going to hide in her room for as long as she could. He never should have suggested she stay only through the weekend; he needed a lot longer than three days to convince her to become his wife again. He needed a miracle.

Pushing aside such dark thoughts, he took his laptop and went to his study to work. He closed his eyes briefly at the sight of the endless emails that had landed in his inbox overnight. Everyone wanted to know which way he would turn. If he would follow his father’s lead—or his brother’s.

In the weeks after the crash, Khalis had taken over Tannous Enterprises, even though their father had disinherited him fifteen years ago, when Khalis had realised the extent of Balkri Tannous’s corruption and immorality and walked away. He’d started his own IT firm, made a life for himself in America while Ammar had stayed. Became his father’s right-hand man and flunky and carried out all his odious orders. Sold his soul.

Ammar rose from his desk, the regret and anger rushing through him once more. Even before his death, Balkri had wanted to make amends with Khalis. Just as he’d told Noelle, his father’s cancer diagnosis had made him long for reconciliation. That, Ammar supposed, had been behind his father secretly signing over the majority of the shares to Khalis just weeks before the crash. Khalis received control of Tannous Enterprises, and as for him?

He would have received nothing, which just showed you shouldn’t do deals with the devil. It was only because Khalis didn’t want to have anything to do with Tannous Enterprises that Ammar was in charge at all. Yet, now that he was, he longed to make something, not just of himself, but of his father’s—his—business. Was redemption on such a grand scale even possible?

And as for personal redemption … His gut twisted with remorse and even fear. Noelle must wonder what Tannous Enterprises was like, what he had been capable of. What he had done. How could she not, when he’d kidnapped her? Even now, when he wanted to change, to become a good and honest man, he wasn’t sure if he could. He wasn’t sure he knew how. And if Noelle found out the extent of his deeds, his shame …

There wasn’t a chance in hell—where he surely belonged—of her staying.

CHAPTER FOUR

NOELLE stayed in her room for two hours before she decided she was being ridiculous. She couldn’t hide up here for ever. Besides, it was boring. And, amazingly, she was getting hungry again. But, more than either of those, she wanted to see Ammar. It was time, she decided, for some answers.

She left the confines of her bedroom and went in search of him. The house was so very quiet and she hadn’t even heard the sound of another voice or step. Did Ammar have any staff, or were they completely alone? She peeked in the kitchen, saw their breakfast dishes had been cleared away, the room tidied. But Ammar—or anyone else—was nowhere in sight.

She tiptoed down the main hallway, looked in a living room, dining room and—surprisingly—a music room with a very good grand piano, but all were empty.

Where was he?

‘Are you looking for me?’

Noelle whirled around and saw Ammar standing in a doorway that had been made to look like part of the wall, so cleverly disguised she hadn’t even seen it. And he’d been so quiet. As quiet as a cat, or a thief.

She swallowed, nodded. ‘Yes. I wanted to talk to you.’

‘That makes for a pleasant change.’ He turned to close the door behind him. With it shut, Noelle couldn’t make it out at all.

‘Why the secret door?’ she asked.

‘I possess a great deal of highly classified information.’ She didn’t ask anything more. ‘Shall we go outside? It’s not too hot in the garden.’

‘There’s a garden? I didn’t see one from my window.’

‘It’s on the other side of the house.’ He led her through the music room, past the piano to a pair of French windows that led out to an enclosed garden with a seating area and an infinity pool shaded by palms. The trees and shrubs—as well as the high walls—provided some shelter from the desert wind and sun.

‘Do you play piano?’ Noelle asked and Ammar nodded. ‘I didn’t know that. Did you … did you play when we were … together?’

Another nod. ‘It’s not something I usually tell people.’

‘Why not?’

He shrugged. ‘A private thing, I suppose, music.’

She stared at him, standing across from her in the little flower-scented enclave, looking calm but also tense, even a little resigned. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans and waited, as though for a verdict. ‘I don’t really know you,’ she said quietly, ‘at all.’

‘I know.’

Strange, but she hadn’t expected that admission. It made her sad. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. ‘I want some answers.’ Ammar nodded. Waited. Noelle made herself ask, ‘Why … why did you reject me? In the hotel?’ Now the words were out there, she wished she could unsay them. Did she really want to hear how he’d changed his mind, how he’d no longer been attracted to her, had never been attracted to her? Why else would a husband refuse to have sex with his wife?

‘I suppose,’ Ammar said carefully, ‘it felt like the only choice at the time.’

‘Why?’

He said nothing. Frustration bubbled up inside her; she might as well be staring at a stone wall. ‘Ammar, if you have any hope of a relationship with me, surely you realise I need some real answers? There can be no relationship without honesty.’

‘It’s not that simple.’

‘It is.’

Frustration flared in his eyes, lighting them with its fire. ‘You are viewing the world like a child—’

‘I am not a child!’ That stung, because she knew how naive and innocent she’d once been, believing the best of him, of them, even after all hope was gone. She wasn’t that woman—that silly girl—any more. ‘I think most people would agree that honesty is essential in any relationship.’

‘I am not denying that,’ Ammar said tightly. ‘But I am not sure how much honesty I am willing to give—or you are willing to hear.’

Suddenly she was silenced. He was right. Just how honest did she actually want him to be? And why was she arguing about the necessity of it when she had no intention of having any sort of relationship with him? Still, she needed to know. Something, no matter how small. She let out a shuddering breath.

‘Our wedding night—I was lying in bed waiting for you and the doorknob turned, as if someone was about to come in. Was it you?’

A beat passed, the only sound the whisper of the wind, the gentle lap of the water in the pool. ‘Yes.’

She let out another rush of breath. ‘Were you going to come in, and then you changed your mind?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because …’ He stopped, lifting a hand as if to rake it through his hair before he remembered he hardly had any any more. He dropped it to his side, turning away from her with an impatient hiss of breath.

‘Ammar—’

‘This is not easy for me, Noelle.’

Again she was silenced. She had assumed, she realised, that it was easy. Or, if not exactly easy, then a matter of little consequence. Long ago, in her own hurt and humiliation, she’d decided he had never actually cared about her one way or the other. She had been, it seemed, a matter of indifference to him. Yet the man standing across from her, radiating an angry tension, his whole body taut and pulsating with it, was not indifferent to her. Not remotely.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I know.’ He turned back to her, his body now rigid with resolve. ‘I didn’t come to you that night—or any night—because I thought it would be easier for you.’

‘Easier?’

‘Not to be married to me.’

She stared at him, her mind whirling with this revelation. She had imagined many painful reasons why Ammar had rejected her. He was tired of her, he’d changed his mind, he’d never really loved her to begin with. She had never imagined this. ‘Easier,’ she repeated in disbelief, ‘for me.’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

His mouth tightened and his jaw worked but no words came. Finally, with effort, he said, ‘I realised our marriage wouldn’t work, and so I was offering you a way out.’

She shook her head, refusing to believe so simplistic, so ridiculous an explanation. ‘But you never said anything, Ammar. You … you acted as though you couldn’t bear to be with me for a single second.’ Just the memory made her throat tighten and she blinked hard.

‘That wasn’t the case.’

‘And I’m supposed to believe that?’

‘It’s the truth.’

She shook her head so hard her vision blurred. ‘No. You’re rewriting history, Ammar, or maybe you’re lying—’

‘I am not,’ Ammar said coldly, ‘lying.’

‘How am I supposed to believe any of that?’ Noelle burst out. ‘How am I supposed to believe you were actually doing me a favour when you treated me like you hated me?’

Ammar’s mouth tightened. ‘I’ve had enough of this conversation.’

‘Well, I haven’t—’

‘All you need to know—’ he cut across her ‘—is that I realised it wasn’t going to work, and I meant to let you go.’

‘Let me go? That’s your version of events? Because it sure as hell is different from mine. You weren’t letting me go, Ammar, you were letting me down.’ Her throat ached and her eyes stung even as anger blazed through her. ‘So, just like that, you were willing to give up on our marriage, on me, without even a word of explanation, before we’d even begun?’ It hurt, even now. Especially now, because somehow the truth was worse than anything Noelle could have imagined. It made the loss and grief fresh again, and so very raw.

‘I wasn’t giving up on you,’ Ammar said quietly. ‘I was giving up on me.’

She stared at him, his words seeming to echo through her. She could find no hint in his expressionless face as to what he’d felt then—and what he felt now. ‘What do you mean?’

Another long silence. Ammar’s face looked as if it had been harshly hewn from stone. ‘I knew I couldn’t be the husband you deserved.’

She forced herself to ignore the ache his words—and the quiet, sad tone in which he said them—gave her. ‘Why not?’ Ammar’s expression closed down, if that were even possible. It wasn’t as if he’d been an open book to begin with. It wasn’t, Noelle reflected bitterly, as if he’d been open about anything at all. ‘I still feel like I don’t understand anything,’ she said, her voice caught between exasperation and something darker and far more alarming. It shouldn’t even matter now, the reasons why, and yet Noelle knew from the misery swamping her, the heartache that felt as if it were rending her right in two, that it did. It mattered far too much.

‘I realised I’d been fooling myself,’ Ammar said flatly, ‘all along. It wouldn’t work between us and I didn’t want to drag you down. That’s why I walked away.’

His words fell into the taut stillness. ‘And you just happened to decide that, right after we got married?’ Noelle struggled to hold onto her anger instead of giving into the desolation that threatened to sweep right through her. ‘You couldn’t have figured that out before? You couldn’t have told me, talked to me—’

‘What’s done is done,’ Ammar said flatly, and Noelle let out a choked cry that sounded far too like a sob.

‘But it isn’t done for me, Ammar. It’s never been done. Why else would I be here demanding answers? Why would you even want me to be here? And how has it changed now? How have you changed?’ His jaw tightened. He said nothing. ‘Is it different?’ she demanded. ‘Why do you think a marriage between us could work now, when you didn’t think it could before?’ She took a step towards him, her fists clenched. She felt so angry, ridiculously angry, considering what ancient history this was. Should be. ‘You’re not telling me the truth, are you? Not the whole truth.’

‘I’m telling you enough.’

‘By whose say-so? All I know is that you changed your mind and so you abandoned me. Well, guess what, Ammar. I knew that before.’

‘It wasn’t like that, Noelle.’ For the first time he raised his voice and anger flashed in his eyes like lightning.

‘It felt like that.’ She let out a ragged breath, felt tears sting her eyes. ‘It took me years to get over our marriage, Ammar, to get over you, and all because you couldn’t bother to tell me what was really going on. You still can’t.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He took a breath, let it out slowly. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, and even though his voice was flat and hard she knew he meant it.

‘Why?’ she whispered. ‘Why, really?’

‘I was living in a dream world, those days with you,’ Ammar said quietly. ‘And on our wedding night, I woke up.’

‘How?’

He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

It did matter, of course it did, but this time Noelle didn’t press. Her anger had deserted her, leaving her as emotionally exposed as she’d been that horrible night in the hotel, when he’d thrust her away from him.

Ammar still looked completely expressionless, stony and blank, and belatedly she realised she had tears running down her face. Perfect. So much for being strong and independent, needing no one. Twenty-four hours with Ammar and she was a pathetic mess. He still hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even moved, and Noelle had no idea what he was thinking. She felt more confused than ever before. With a revealingly loud sniff, she turned on her heel and walked quickly out of the garden.