Movement outside the bedroom door made Laine stiffen. The lock turned.
Emmy stirred.
Laine quickly shushed her and kept rocking as the door opened. Cameron stood at the threshold, a scowl on his face. A face she’d once loved so much but now feared.
“Out,” he said, quietly but forcefully. “Now.”
Thankfully, Emmy didn’t wake.
Laine stood with her daughter in her arms, kissed her chubby cheek, and lowered her to the bed they shared. Brushing away dark locks of hair, she pulled the blanket up to Emmy’s chin.
Come home with me, my love. Two weeks to meet my family and let me do business. It’s all I ask. Then we can move back to the US.
Cameron Azad’s words rang in Laine’s head for the millionth time since she set foot on Iraqi soil. She’d built a life with him.Six years. A child. A plan to move back home, where part of her heart longed to be . . .
Oh, Emmy. I wish I’d just taken you home.
Tension warped her steps as she slipped into the hall and shut the bedroom door behind her. Cameron’s scowl was deep. His piercing brown eyes flashed at her.
She swallowed and drew her arms around her waist.
“Where’s your hijab?”
She lowered her gaze, wishing she had the head covering that would appease him. “I was putting Emmy to sleep. I didn’t know you were coming.”
He leaned close, his breath hot on her cheek. “I told you to stop rocking her. She’s five years old. Not a baby.”
Tears clouded her eyes. She’d been on the receiving end of Cameron’s wrath more than once. If he lost his temper, he could take her life. Not only would he not feel bad about it, but he wouldn’t be tried, even if caught red-handed.
Not here in his home country. Not with his connections.
She lowered her gaze. Until six months ago, she’d been free to disagree with Cameron. Had never feared standing up for herself. Now, she didn’t dare. Not when Emmy was sleeping mere feet away. The girl had already witnessed her mother being hit once. Laine wouldn’t allow it again.
Cameron straightened. “Doesn’t matter. That’s not what I came here for.” He swiped his thumb beneath his brow. “We’ll marry next week.”
Fear sent a shockwave through her bones, immobilizing her. “W-What?” she stammered.
That was impossible. Cameron was already married. A woman she hadn’t known about until she traveled to Iraq with him. When they’d lived in London, where he held citizenship, he’d traveled to Iraq frequently—for “business.”
He couldn’t be serious. Not unless he’d divorced Fatima, which was highly unlikely.
The minute they’d arrived six months ago, he’d taken her to the lowest level of the mansion. She and Emmy never left the grounds. Weren’t allowed to. Only the staff and his other wife knew about them. The location of Cameron’s property kept them from the public eye—away from anyone who might question or report them for living together unmarried.
His mouth curled ruthlessly. “You will consent to marriage or face the consequences of disobeying me.”
Laine’s sinuses stung. They’d had this conversation before, when she’d realized he wasn’t going to let her leave. She’d told him he was holding them prisoner, that she’d escape. He’d told her he wouldn’t be punished for having a child outside of marriage, but she would.
Fear kept her here, terrified to get word to the embassy for help. And marrying Cameron would present a whole new world of problems. For one, the embassy wouldn’t help her—couldn’t—because they couldn’t take a child from her father.
“You understand?” he said, raising his voice with authority.
Terror lodged in her throat. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.” Even though they stood in the hallway, she spoke low in hopes they wouldn’t wake Emmy.
He nodded, his eyes small. He cupped her face in his hand and brought his mouth inches from hers, his fingers pinching her cheeks painfully. “Good.”
After shoving her back so her head hit the wall, he turned and made his way upstairs. Hate infused every cell in her body.
There was only one thing she could do to save her daughter, and it might cost Laine her life.
