The long hours in the saddle were nothing short of agony. There was no way to avoid her touch then. Hour after hour, he felt the heat of her arms at his waist, the soft seduction of her breasts pressing against his back. He tried riding behind her, but it didn’t help. Then it was his arms around her, holding her close, the scent of her hair rising in his nostrils. Bad as the days were, the nights were far worse. The nightmares continued to plague him so that he dreaded the darkness. He tried sleeping during the day and riding at night, but even that couldn’t keep the bad dreams at bay. Night after night, he woke drenched with sweat, the sound of Leyla’s voice leading him out of the darkness. Tonight was no different. His own screams were still ringing in his ears, the phantom images still fresh in his mind, as Leyla drew him close, rocking him as a mother might rock a troubled child. “It is all right,” she murmured soothingly.
