It’d been years since they spoke. The last time he’d heard her voice, she’d blown him off. He’d traveled to London to visit her. She’d been in a serious relationship and pregnant, due any minute, and for some reason she hadn’t wanted to see him ... nor had she wanted him to meet Cameron.
He’d left it at that, but every year he texted her on the anniversary of Twist’s death. No matter where he was or what hell he fought to stay alive, he’d never forget Twist’s day.
Every year, she responded with something simple.
Thank you. I was thinking about you today, too.
Last year, she’d said,He was the best. I appreciate you remembering.
So when he texted her on Twist’s day five months ago and got no response, it fucking gutted him. Had she forgotten to reply? Lost his number? He couldn’t just call her—they no longer had that type of friendship. But Jesus. Nothing? What the hell had he done to deserve her silence?
Back at his apartment, he shut Laine out of his thoughts and got in the shower.
It was Twist who tormented his mind for the rest of the afternoon. He hadn’t even stayed in touch with Laine, let alone kept an eye on her.
Laine’s liemight bite her in the ass—or get her killed.
But she had to get back to Aisha’s in hopes the woman would follow through with her promise and get her a phone. After all, they were running out of time. They only had a couple days before their marriage at the courthouse.
She had to get word to Roarke before it was too late.
“Saif didn’t say anything about getting the children together.” Cameron’s glare was hot on her neck as they climbed the front steps of Saif and Aisha’s mansion.
He was right, of course. Normally they arranged for playdates on the weekend. Having one during the week wasn’t normal. She adjusted the material of her hijab, making sure her hair was covered.
Desperation ate away her nerves. If Aisha couldn’t hide her surprise, Laine would act stupid and pretend she’d mixed up the days. Cameron might not fall for it, but with any luck Aisha would go along with the story.
Laine hit the doorbell before she lost her courage. “Oh, that’s so strange. I swear Aisha said to come by this afternoon.”
“Mommy, you’re hurting my hand.”
Heat scorched her cheeks. “Sorry, sweetie.” She loosened her grip and didn’t dare look at Cameron.
The door swung open, and the family’s housekeeper gave them a hesitant smile. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Hello, I didn’t know you were coming,” she said in Arabic. Or something close to that. Laine had tried to learn some of the language over the last few months.
Sweat dampened the back of her neck. “Aisha should be expecting us,” she said weakly.
A moment later, Aisha appeared at the door. Her gaze darted from Cameron to Laine. There was surprise in her eyes but her smile was fixed.
“I hope we’re not early,” Laine said.
“Oh, of course not. I’m so glad you could come.” She bent down to Emmy. “The others are in the backyard, go play!”
Emmy let off an excited shriek and raced through the marble foyer. They stepped inside and Aisha shut the door.
“Where’s Saif? Doesn’t he know we’re here?” Suspicion thickened Cameron’s voice.
“He’s been so busy, I haven’t wanted to bother him. The children needed to play more after our visit the other night. I haven’t heard the end of it,” she said with a light laugh. “He’s in his office. I’ll get him.”
Aisha disappeared down the hall.
Cameron’s gaze seared into her. He leaned in close, his breath on her neck. “What the hell are you doing?”
Tension cinched her vocal cords. She frowned, drawing her head back an inch. “We were invited to your friend’s house so the children could play. Why on earth would you think something’s going on?”
His fingers bit into her elbow.
She clenched her teeth as he abused her flesh.
