Free Strangers in the Desert by Lynn Raye Harris

well-being. Understanding that didn’t make it any easier, however.
    “I’m sorry,” she replied, a lump rising in her throat at the thought of her baby crying.
    “He refused to eat because he was so upset. Kalila finally got him to sleep.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how she did it.”
    He turned to her, propping his elbow against the railing. It was a casual gesture, and yet everything about his presence was anything but casual. There was tension in the lines of his body, tension in the furrow of his brow and the intensity of his gaze.
    “It’s not easy raising a child,” he continued. “They are fussy, independent, messy and a million other things you can’t imagine one tiny person could be. It’s a giant responsibility.”
    “I know that, Adan.” Her heart thrummed at his nearness, at the way he stood so close to her and discussed their child. It was as if, for a moment at least, they were on the same side. As if they were two parents talking about their son.
    She knew better, however.
    He pushed a hand through his hair. She found herself wanting to smooth the crisp curls back into place, but she did not do so.
    “He does not know you,” he said. “If you insert yourself into his life, and then decide you can’t handle the responsibility, you will hurt him because he will have grown close to you.”
    She gripped the coffee cup in her fingers. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t try to be anything to him—”
    “I know.” He let out a sharp breath. “Kalila told me what happened. She was taking a shortcut back to the nursery when he heard you singing.”
    Her temper sharpened. “Then why are you here, if not to chastise me? I know you would be happier if I didn’t exist. But I do, Adan. And I want to know my child.”
    His eyes glittered hotly in the westering light. His mouth tightened. Her gaze settled on those firm, sensual lips. They’d been so masterful against her own. The wetness flowing into her inner core at the thought shocked her. She was angry with him, and yet her body reacted to him until the tingle of desire was soon a buzz in her veins.
    How could she feel this way for him? How could she be attracted to him when he infuriated her so much? Was her body remembering what her mind had forgotten?
    He took a step closer, then stopped as if he realizedhe’d done so against his will. His voice, when he spoke, was low and determined.
    “I am here, Isabella, because I have come to a decision.”

CHAPTER SIX
    A DAN was taking a risk. He knew it, and yet he was now convinced it was the only solution. When he’d carried Rafiq back to the nursery, the child crying all the way because he wanted the lady to sing for him, Adan had realized that he could not undo what had been done.
    Not only that, but perhaps he’d been wrong to try and keep Isabella away from Rafiq.
    Not because he believed she was suddenly going to make a fabulous mother. He wouldn’t bet Rafiq’s future on that shaky hypothesis. But, his son was still so young, and he would encounter various people who would be a part of his life for a short while before they were gone again. Teachers. Friends. Even Kalila, who suffered from arthritis that would soon make taking care of Rafiq more difficult as he grew bigger and heavier.
    People moved on. It happened all the time, and Adan couldn’t protect Rafiq from it.
    Isabella was looking up at him, her green eyes so wary and sad at the same time. She held her saucer in her right hand, the fingers of her left hooked through the coffee cup that she hadn’t drunk from since he’d joined her.
    She still smelled like tropical flowers. Tropical flowers,coffee and the spicy sweetness of the cardamom seed that flavored the brew. He wondered if she would taste sweet and spicy if he kissed her.
    “What is it, Adan?” she asked, her voice as smoky and rich as the coffee. He shook thoughts of kissing her from his head.
    “I’m going to give you two weeks