His entire being rebelled at those words, and at knowing the fear in her eyes was caused by the passion between them. She feared what she felt; he would never fear this feeling. "What if I command you to stay?"
Her eyes begged him not to. He was unsure he could honor her silent entreaty. He knew she knew by the dismay on her face as she took another step back. "My lord, what you suggest is forbidden."
He moved closer still, until he trapped her against the wall, and her breaths came swifter. It was as much arousal as fear; he could tell from the heat emanating from her skin and the hard tips of her nipples. He could use that. What he could not do was let her go, now he knew for certain she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
"Why should love be forbidden? Are we not in the presence of She who is Love incarnate?"
Confusion and denial filled her eyes and his heart squeezed. He told himself her fear was his test. Inanna wished to know how pure and determined his love for this woman was. No man could resist the temptations of desire. At least love formed the foundation of his desire. Love would abide against all.
"My lord." Her denial was a whisper, her tone panicked as he stepped up to her, his body pressing hers up against the wall. He could feel her all along him and knew he could not let her go, no matter how forbidden their union might truly be.
"Mukarramma..."
Her breasts flattened against his chest, and the source of all life washed over him. He wanted this woman. His oath be damned, for if he did not have her, he would surely go mad.
"My lord Sargon." Her tone changed, and her gentle hands slid over his chest on a slow trek toward a future certain to damn him. He cared not a whit for anything beyond the glide of her knowledgeable hands.
Matt groaned as he covered the offending hands with his own, stilling them.
"Manara..."
"Hush," she interrupted sternly, her fingers probing the flesh across his abdomen again. "I must examine your wounds. They are healing, but infection can start so quickly."
The no-nonsense tone of her voice worried him and Matt's eyes opened. Warily, he studied her intent features as she examined his wounds. He wanted to be afraid of what she found, and his sense of calm surprised him. He couldn't help but be fascinated by the play of light in her eyes. A wry smile inched across his face as he considered the irony of a virgin so casually surveying his person.
"You surprise me."
Her dark head lifted, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You're a virgin."
Her gaze telegraphed annoyance. "So?"
"So, how can a woman who's never slept with a man prod one all over and not blush?"
Her steady regard never wavered. "We have shared this bed for a long while now."
"Don't be obtuse. You know what I mean."
Her gray eyes sparkled with laughter. "I am a Healer, Matthew. It is my duty to care for the physical, mental and spiritual well-being of all who seek me out. I have seen many men." She grinned then, her gaze boldly perusing him. "Seeing and feeling are two separate sensations, Matthew."
Just the way she said his name heated Matt's blood. Viciously, he suppressed the shaft of pure lust the memory of his dreams roused. They were, after all, just dreams. While not so erotic until he came here, he'd had ones like it ever since he could remember. He smiled languidly up at Manara and murmured, "Seeing is quite nice as far as I'm concerned."
He reveled in the sight of her rosy blush against her sandy skin. He liked how she had no ego about her beauty and that his compliments effected her so easily. "Will I live?"
She laughed then, the cascade of musical notes filling Matt with a hunger for more of these moments of simple pleasure. The sadness in her eyes told him she saw very little pleasure in her life. She really should smile and laugh more. He would make it his mission to see she had reason to.
"With my salves and your own stubborn nature, Commander Raleigh, I believe you will be more than adequately healed within the week."
Matt frowned at her repeated use of his former Naval rank. Had he given away information in his delirium? He doubted it. His training to withstand torture and keep his secrets close was tested by fire. He had no explanation how she learned so much about him. Maybe the answer lay in the gaps in his memory. "Which brings up another question. How long have I been down?"
The color drained from Manara's face and her smile disappeared as her gaze darted away. "I... I..."
Alarm flashed through him at her sudden reticence. "Don't you know?"
"Matthew, you must understand. There was so much debris and you were so injured..."
He didn't like where this was headed. "You make it sound like I'm dead."
She swallowed hard and the eyes she lifted held a silent plea he didn't know how to answer. "Many gave up hope of saving your life and I prayed so hard for your safe return from that place you had gone, deep inside. I could not reach you there. There was so much anger, so much pain, so much...so much hate!"
She was babbling. Matt blinked, sure there was some kind of communication problem going on. They were speaking the same language, and her English was flawless, but he still didn't understand a word she said. Though he was fluent in Arabic, he doubted he'd understand her any better in her own language. Which didn't explain why the meaning of her words eluded his grasping mind.
"How long?" He rasped, catching her by the shoulders as she shifted away, her gaze averted.
"N-nearly two months." Matt noticed in shock that there were tears on her cheeks as she faced him again. Those tears struck him square in the chest, knocking the wind from him.
Matt went numb. Two months. He was dead! Maybe not physically, but officially, if he didn't get in contact soon, he'd be declared dead. Bile rose in his throat, and he shuddered in dawning horror. He was a dead man walking.
"So it's over, just like that. And," a reality he never allowed himself to imagine before intruded. Never mind he made the rule himself. It still stung to know no one cared enough to ignore the rules. He would have thought at least Julia... In a tight voice, he finally managed, "And no one even came looking."
Manara's gaze averted from him again when he looked at her, the pain on her face chased by secrets. Secrets that had to do with him, he realized with a start. Matt's frown deepened. Even more than mysteries, he hated secrets. Secrets got people killed.
"What aren't you telling me?"
The blush staining her cheeks told him he wasn't imagining the uneasy expression on her face.
"Manara..."
Her gaze snapped to his, and Matt reeled with the fear he saw there. "I have told you all you need to know for now. The rest will keep until you are prepared to deal with it."
Which wasn't an answer and they both knew it. Exasperation stuck him like pins. He detested being an invalid. He wasn't damned well going to fall apart if she told him the truth.
"And how soon will that be? I have a mission to complete."
Her gray eyes were understanding and full of censure at the same time. "It will be when it is."
"Cryptic," he muttered with a roll of his eyes. He hated cryptic. Sure, she was beautiful, and sweet, and innocent -- damn, why couldn't he forget that? -- and he'd been lusting after her practically since he opened his eyes. Hell, maybe even longer. None of it meant she couldn't drive him up the fucking wall with her little mysterious statements.
"The man you were seeking...he is an evil man, yes?"
Matt's gaze snapped back to her at her out-of-the-blue query. He was certain he hadn't said a word about looking for anyone. He would never give away classified information. Exactly how much did she know about his mission, and how had she learned it?
"How do you know I was looking for anyone?"
It was her turn to look peeved. "I am not stupid."
He shrugged blandly. "Never said you were."
She glared at him. Yeah, he was baiting her, but he couldn't help himself. Something about her brought out the devil in him.
"The canyon where I found you? There had been many men through there before you, digging and covering. I thought... Perhaps you were searching for those men?"
Matt froze, uncertain how to respond. Her explanation was logical and she sounded sincere. So why did every instinct he possess tell him she was lying? He sighed and closed his eyes, weary beyond belief. He didn't know enough about his current situation to know what to believe. He had to get out of this tent, have a look around, before he could hope to distinguish truth from lies. He cracked his eyelids.
"How soon can I leave?"
Her head shot up, her gaze intent and full of a fear he couldn't place. "Leave?"
"Get up, move around. You know," he tried, careful to keep his expression innocent. He sure as hell couldn't tell her he planned to dig around in her life, to figure out what secret she was hiding.
"Oh." She relaxed a little. "A few days, perhaps."
"Great." He attempted to sit up, but winced as pain throbbed in his chest and leg. The feel of Manara's warm hands was sheer torture and he shrugged off her assistance. Let her think he was determined to go it alone, or even that he hated her. Anything was better than her guessing the truth.
She smiled as she stepped back. The understanding in those smoky eyes told him she saw right through him. "You are certainly improving. Now, if you do not object, I have some work to do."
Not that it would matter if he did, Matt thought in sour humor. She wasn't about to give him what he wanted. Instead of responding, he nodded and watched her rise from his bedside. He was mildly surprised when she didn't leave the tent. He fully expected her work would take her away from him, though why he didn't know. The depth of his relief when she moved to sit on a low stool beside a table where various chunks of what looked like clay bricks were scattered surprised Matt. What was it about this woman that tied him in knots?
As Manara bent over the thin clay bricks, her head tilted slightly to the left, her dark hair spilling down the right side of her body, and her bottom lip caught lightly between her teeth, the world took on a strange, surreal quality.
She bent to her task, the sheer garment she wore doing little to conceal her lush, willowy body as the torchlight danced behind her. Each mark she made in the unfired clay shrugged her shoulders up and stretched the material taut across her full breasts. She was temptation in the flesh, and he was, after all, a man.
He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest and the coil of desire in his gut, aware that her task was important. Those texts she crafted so meticulously in wedge-shaped letters were remedies that would keep the people of Sumeria thriving, and would stave off the demons of disease for generations to come. They were the key to creating a legacy that would outlast any empire. Still, he could not help wishing he could distract her from her task for just a short time.
"Why do you have to do that now?"
He hadn't realized he spoke aloud until her head lifted in surprise and the sounds of motion in the encampment around them reached him. Matt blinked, even as Manara's startled gaze met his.
"You said you did not object to my work."
To her work, no. To the bewildering, erotic images that filled his head every time he looked at her? To the clutch of panic every time she turned those enigmatic eyes on him? Hell yeah, he objected. When she was around, he felt lost and out of control, and when she wasn't, panic gripped him. They were all feelings he despised, for reasons that had nothing to do with this woman, and everything to do with three days in Hell, a lifetime ago.
He scowled. He promised himself years ago that life was behind him. It no longer had control. Which didn't explain why it was on his mind constantly since he landed in Sidon. Anxious to drive the memories away before they consumed him, Matt cleared his throat and focused on the woman watching him expectantly. One thing bothered him more than any other.
"What secrets are you keeping from me?"
"I would never presume..." The turn of her eyes, down and to the left, told him she already had.
"Cut the bullshit, sweetheart. When I mentioned how no one came looking for me or my team, you clammed up faster than a snitch staring down a wise guy's barrel."
"I do not understand--"
"Never mind." He forced his breathing even to keep himself calm. Of course Manara wouldn't understand his colloquialisms. She didn't have to, to give him the information he wanted. "Just tell me who asked."
She sighed in clear exasperation, but nodded as she turned from her task completely and rose from her seat. Her motions were unconsciously sensual as she crossed the tent to his bedside. "There were many people who asked after you. Men and women I did not know, but who all asked many questions. All named you, especially."
Which cleared up the mystery of how she learned his name and former rank as a Navy SEAL. He didn't doubt for a moment someone leaked it in the process of seeking information. Relief and concern tangled in Matt. One mystery solved. Only about a thousand more to go.
"Why didn't you tell me all this before?"
She glanced away, shrugged awkwardly. "You did not ask."
He snorted. She wasn't fooling him for a moment. She might be a virgin, but Manara was far from innocent. "You still could have told me."
Her head ducked, before she nodded. "You are right. I am sorry."
"It's all right. You couldn't have known--" He stopped as it belatedly occurred to him that she could have inadvertently given away his mission, or what she might have figured out of it anyway. She wouldn't know the difference between friend and foe. Hell, he wasn't even sure he did, anymore. "What did you tell them?"
Her brow furrowed, her gray eyes telegraphing confusion. "Nothing."
"You're sure?"
"Of course." Now she looked pissed. "I am not stupid, Matthew. I did not know those people, or if they meant you harm."
The protective light in her gray eyes confused him as much as it warmed him. She kept him safe when he couldn't defend himself. Why that caused a lump in his throat, he didn't know. Matthew Raleigh didn't need a protector; he hadn't needed one since he was a kid. He was the protector. He took care of others, guarded them from harm and danger. So, why did the thought of this innocent standing guard over his unconscious form hit him like a fist to the gut?
She cast a soft smile his direction as she returned to her seat at the table. Matt's heart tumbled. Damn, he was in trouble. This woman was a mystery and completely the antithesis of everything he ever sought in a woman. Yet, she could so easily get under his skin, perhaps even permanently.
Swallowing hard against emotions he didn't understand, he focused on Manara as her attention turned back to the clay tablets. Manara's beauty was breathtaking, and completely lacking in artifice. Her face was softly oval, with exotically high cheeks, her ears tantalizingly delicate beneath dark strands of hair. Small golden rings glinted from the lobes, reflecting sunny flashes of light against the warm hollow of her neck. Her features were evenly spaced and classically beautiful. Her nose was dainty, her eyebrows thin and delicately arched. Her eyes were large and the dark, impregnable gray of smoke, sparkling with flashes of light. Midnight lashes fell long and thick against her skin. Her only apparent acquiescence to cosmetics were the dark smudges of kohl she applied to her lashes each day, though even that seemed done more of habit than vanity.
The tiny, star-shaped mark next to the crease of her right eye intrigued him. He stared, wondering if the mark was natural or cosmetic even as a jolt of recognition went through him.
The birthmark beside her right eye crinkled with her wide, breath-stealing smile. Even her amazing beauty paled beside that smile; he had to have her. Whatever the cost, he would gain her love as more than her sovereign. He would be her lover, even if it cost his very life.
Matt jolted to awareness, confused. He didn't know where these strange visions came from, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't really want to know. They smacked of the supernatural and he'd be damned if he'd let anyone drag him down
that road again.
A quickly indrawn breath staved off the terrible memory, but couldn't succeed in banishing the flashes of desire that struck him as he surveyed her, his heart stalled mid-beat. His gaze locked on her full, sensuous lips and he nearly groaned as pure, sweet lust took over. If only their situation wasn't so damned complicated...
Anxious to get his mind off of sex before he said something he'd be sure to regret, Matt forced his gaze away from her mouth and swore inwardly as his eyes landed instead on her body, softly curved in all the right places beneath her nearly sheer dress. Some men judged beauty by Twiggy; model-thin women repulsed him. If he wanted to live a lie, he could have played the political games of life as a SEAL. He didn't need to live with a woman who reminded him how easy lies could be. Manara was clearly strong enough to single-handedly haul his carcass into a jeep back in that canyon, but she was still soft and womanly, sending his libido into orbit. He shifted slightly to ease the discomfort of a desire he couldn't slake. She was a virgin and she made it quite clear to him she had no desire to be otherwise. Matt believed in the right of a human being to make his or her own choices. He would never violate her choice, no matter how she made him feel. It wasn't her fault he was a randy bastard.
Matt shifted again with a small groan and Manara's head lifted from her study. Immediately she was at his side again, pulling aside the blanket so her knowledgeable fingers could probe his wounds.
"Are you in pain, Matthew? Where do you hurt?"
Nowhere you'd be willing to help, he acknowledged wryly, even as he reached to remove her hands from his body. "Manara, I'm fine. You can't be jumping up at every movement or sound from me. I was just... thinking. I didn't mean to disturb you."
She smiled shyly, withdrawing her hands from his. Instantly he missed her soft, sure touch, and called himself a fool for it. "It is my duty to care for you, Matthew."
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