The Sheikh

by Anne Herries

  ‘I love you,’ Chloe said, her throat closing with emotion. ‘It’s just that I can’t stand the thought—’

  ‘Why don’t you tell her the truth?’

  Sashimi’s voice came from behind them, making Chloe turn to look at her in surprise.

  ‘I told you to keep quiet,’ Pasha warned.

  ‘Why?’ Sashimi was smoking a Turkish cigarette, which she had taken from his bedroom. ‘You have set me free, Pasha, and I don’t ever intend to be told what to do by a man again. I know you can take away your promise to give me money, but Ahmad’s money will come to me, because my father saw to that when we married.’

  ‘Sashimi, please…’

  Sashimi blew a smoke ring into the air. ‘I’m sorry, Pasha, but I think your wife has a right to be told the truth.’ She directed her clear gaze at Chloe. ‘I can’t see why you should care what happened. Ahmad deserved to die for what he did to others, but it wasn’t Pasha who fired the shot that killed him.’

  ‘It wasn’t Pasha…’ Chloe’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her. ‘Then who…?’ Her words died away as she suddenly knew. ‘It was you! You killed him!’

  ‘Yes.’ Sashimi smiled, apparently unmoved by what she’d done. ‘I fired that shot, Chloe. Pasha told me not to tell you, but it doesn’t matter now. He has arranged it all nicely, and I’ve got away with it—so why should I care? Ahmad is dead. I killed him and I’m glad. I told you that you came to us for a purpose, didn’t I, Chloe?’

  Chloe stared at her as she walked towards the door. How could she kill her husband and show no emotion? She must surely feel it inside!

  ‘Where are you going?’ Pasha asked.

  ‘I’m going back to my apartment to pick up the bags you made me leave behind,’ she said, ‘and then I intend to fly to Paris later this afternoon.’

  ‘The English police may want to question you.’

  ‘Oh, no, I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I shall be informed of my husband’s tragic death, and I shall play the grieving widow to perfection—and then I shall enjoy spending his money.’

  Chloe was silent as the door closed behind her, and then she turned to Pasha, swallowing hard.

  ‘I am sorry…sorry I misjudged you.’

  ‘Are you?’ He raised his brows and she sensed his anger. It was a deep, cold anger that chilled her to the bone. ‘How kind of you to say so, Chloe.’

  She was trembling inside, but tried not to let it show. ‘Please, Pasha. I know you are angry, but this makes a difference.’

  ‘Does it?’ He stared at her and then went over to the drinks tray to replace his empty glass. ‘I am tempted to get drunk, but that is so uncivilised, isn’t it, Chloe? I am pleased that it makes a difference for you but, you see, it does not for me.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, her heart racing as he turned to look at her. His expression was so cold, so harsh, that she felt as if a knife had been plunged into her heart.

  ‘It means that our marriage is over,’ Pasha replied. ‘I think that we have said all we have to say to one another, Chloe. I must apologise for what happened to you. That was my fault, and I freely admit it. I should never have married you. I see that now.’

  ‘No! It wasn’t your fault!’ she cried. ‘Please doesn’t be like this, Pasha. Don’t hate me.’

  ‘Should I love you?’ he asked in a soft tone that sent shivers through her. ‘But you know what that means, Chloe. It means that you would belong to me totally and just because Sashimi killed Ahmad before I could doesn’t mean that I won’t kill in the future, does it? I think you should take this chance while you have it, my dear. Besides, I find that I am no longer interested.’

  Chloe watched as he walked away from her, going into his bedroom and locking the door. The sound of his key turning in the lock was like a death knell in her heart.

  She had killed any feeling he’d had for her. It was over and she had no one to blame but herself…

  Chapter Twelve

  Pasha insisted on driving Chloe down to the country the next morning. After spending a sleepless night, she had packed her cases, presenting him with a pile of luggage in the hall. He accepted her decision to leave at once without a flicker of emotion.

  She had told him that she would be perfectly happy to go on the train, but he would not allow it.

  ‘I can get a taxi from the station. There is really no need for you to come all that way, Pasha.’

  ‘You are still my wife, Chloe, even though we may both wish that was not the case. While you remain so, I shall take care of you and the child.’

  Chloe glanced at him and then away quickly. What did he mean? She had thought that their marriage was over and that surely meant a divorce, didn’t it? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that or anything, the ache in her breast blotting out everything but the desire to weep. However, she was determined not to let him see how miserable she was.

  Pasha hardly spoke to her during the journey, other than to make sure she was comfortable. She wondered what Henry would make of this silence between them, but when they arrived to be greeted with warm smiles and hugs from Henry’s sister Dora, she discovered that he was as charming as always.

  ‘Oh, but she is lovely,’ Dora cried as she put her arm about Chloe’s waist. ‘Absolutely lovely. You are a very lucky man, Pasha, and I hope you appreciate it.’ Her brown eyes twinkled merrily at him. ‘And I am glad to see that you have come for a long stay, my dear.’

  ‘I am going to be travelling with the prince for a while,’ Pasha said smoothly, leaving Chloe with nothing to say. ‘Chloe wanted to come here, and I thought it was a good idea for you all to get to know one another. You can blacken my name at your leisure now, darling Dora.’

  ‘Oh, you wicked boy!’ Dora gave him an indulgent look. He was clearly a favourite with her, and he was fond of her. ‘As if I should do any such thing. Besides, Chloe is far too sensible to listen!’

  Of course, that was why he was so easy now that he was with people he cared about, Chloe thought. Her husband was such a complex character, and she was still a long way from knowing him, but she did know that he had a devil that drove him at times.

  He had deliberately provoked her into quarrelling with him. It was cruel the way he had allowed her to believe that he had killed Ahmad in cold blood, when all he had really done was to cover up Sashimi’s crime. That was wrong in itself, Chloe supposed, but having had some hours to think about it, she realised that she ought not to have expected anything less of Pasha. He knew that her husband had mistreated Sashimi, and he had wanted to protect her from the consequences of her actions.

  But what was the alternative after all? Would Chloe really have wanted her to be arrested and tried for the murder of her husband, knowing that the punishment would be severe? Asked honestly, the truthful answer was that, although it was morally wrong of Pasha to do what he had, it had been merciful.

  Ahmad was a wife beater, and he had seduced Lysette in order to bring shame on her so that she would lure Pasha into a trap. Quite what he had expected to happen she was not sure, but she imagined that Ahmad had hoped to make Pasha so angry that he came after him in a rage. He would then seem to be the aggressor and it would appear that his death had been brought about through his own rash behaviour. It was the act of an evil, vengeful man.

  She couldn’t really regret what had happened to Ahmad, although it would have been better had Pasha managed to bring him to justice, as she realised now he had probably intended. Had he wanted Ahmad dead, he could have killed him almost immediately.

  She had jumped to conclusions because of what he had told her that night in the gardens in Spain, and now she must pay the consequences. Pasha no longer loved or wanted her—and why should he since she had shown herself unworthy?

  She had told him that she loved him, had told herself that she loved him, and yet she had not been willing to trust him. What kind of love was that? She was little better than her own father, who had been prepared to grant his love a
s a reward to a dutiful daughter—and to take it away when she refused to obey him.

  Chloe had decided that she would never try to see her father again after he had thrown them out of his house. She had felt hurt and a little bitter that he could behave so unkindly to her, but had she behaved any better towards her husband? A man who had only ever shown her love and kindness.

  Chloe was reflective as she watched her husband with his relations, saw their respect and deep affection for him, and his for them. What kind of a fool was she that she hadn’t realised his true nature before?

  Yes, he might be severe at times, but he was honest and everything he did was well considered and judged. She was the one who had been naïve and foolish to imagine that ruthless men could always be contained by what she thought of as justice. Was she then a child that saw everything as black and white, good or bad? Life could never be that simple, surely? She saw now that there were times when perhaps, however regrettable, the taking of a life saved others.

  Chloe had learned a lot very quickly since that nightmare journey with Ahmad, and she wished desperately that she could go back and begin again, that she could have Pasha the way he had been when they were in Spain together. She thought longingly of the way he had spoiled and teased her, and regretted all that she had lost.

  But it was too late, much too late. She knew that it was too late when she looked into his eyes, and read the hurt there, saw the reserve that he now had towards her and her heart ached.

  She would have to learn to live with what she had lost somehow—but at least she would have his child.

  ‘Please take care of yourself,’ Pasha said to her before he left that evening. He had decided against staying with them overnight despite all that his grandfather could say to try and persuade him. ‘I am not sure what the future will bring for either of us at this moment, Chloe—but we both need time to think about things. I may be away some months, but I hope to be here when the child is born.’

  Chloe dared not look at him as she said, ‘Do you want a divorce, Pasha?’

  ‘Not particularly,’ he replied, sounding indifferent. ‘But if you feel that you wish to marry again, perhaps we may arrange something.’

  ‘No!’ she said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly because it made Pasha stare at her oddly. ‘No. I have no wish to marry again. I thought you might wish to. Especially if my child happens to be a girl…’

  ‘You think that I wish for a son and heir to inherit the land I had from my father?’ A wry smiled touched his mouth. ‘Believe me, Chloe. I would not wish to inflict that on your son.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked uncertainly.

  ‘Think about it,’ he said. ‘We shall discuss this again when I return.’

  Chloe watched from a landing window as he left, her heart aching. She didn’t want him to leave; she wanted him to stay with her and be safe, but she knew she had forfeited the right to ask him to give up that other part of his life—a part of his life she now realised had been a burden to him.

  She turned away as his car disappeared out of sight, lifting her head as she went downstairs to sit with Dora and Henry for the rest of the evening. Her life was here with them now, and she must learn to live with this ache in her heart. Pasha had gone and she did not know if he would ever return to her.

  Life was calm and uneventful at Henry’s country house. Both he and Dora were kind, comfortable companions, the pace of their existence slow and steady. It was exactly the calm atmosphere she needed to wait for the birth of her child, but Chloe missed her husband unbearably. Always, he had seemed to bring excitement into her life, making her pulses race just by the touch of his hand or a smile.

  ‘It is such a shame that Pasha has so many official duties,’ Dora said to her as they were picking deep red chrysanthemums in the garden one autumn afternoon. ‘I often think that it would be much better if he did not feel he owed a duty to the prince.’

  ‘Yes,’ Chloe agreed wholeheartedly. ‘Much better.’ She looked at the basket of flowers on her arm. ‘Do you think we have enough of these?’

  ‘Oh, no, we might as well pick them all,’ Dora said. ‘It will make a nice splash of colour all over the house and they will only die once we get the heavy frosts.’ She shivered in the chill wind and looked up at the sky, in which storm clouds seemed to be gathering. There was a definite bite in the wind that afternoon as winter threatened ‘I wonder how Mariam is getting on. She was having her operation today, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes.’ Chloe glanced anxiously at her wristwatch. ‘I think I shall telephone the hospital when we’ve done the flowers.’

  ‘Why don’t you take your basket in now?’ Dora suggested. ‘I can finish here—and I should like to know how Mariam is.’

  ‘Yes, I shall then,’ Chloe said and smiled at her. She had become very fond of Dora in the two and a half months she had spent with her. ‘I asked Henry if he thought it would be a good idea for her to convalesce here, and he said we had plenty of room and he would be delighted to have her. Would you mind if I asked her?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Dora said. ‘We must pray that the doctors found that the tumour was not malignant.’

  ‘Yes…’

  Chloe hurried inside, placing her flowers in the little back room where they would later be arranged into various vases, then went through into the hall. As she did so, she was met by Sir Henry’s housekeeper, who told her that there was a telephone call for her in the study.

  ‘I was about to call you, madam,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Chloe quickened her step and went into the comfortable book-lined study, which was inclined to be dark on a grey afternoon like this. She was a little breathless as she picked up the telephone, hoping that it would not be bad news from Paris.

  ‘Chloe!’ Justine’s excited voice came over the line. ‘Oh, I’m so glad I got you. I wanted you to be the first to know outside the family. I’m engaged to a wonderful man!’

  ‘That is good news,’ Chloe said. ‘I am so pleased for you. But you are a dark horse! You didn’t breathe a word of this! Where did you meet him, and how long has this been going on?’

  Justine giggled. ‘Well, I haven’t said anything, because Matthew didn’t seem interested and well…you know how it is.’

  ‘Matthew?’

  ‘He’s Sir Matthew actually,’ Justine said, ‘so Mummy is ecstatic as you can imagine. But he isn’t stuffy at all, Chloe. He dances the Charleston like a dream! We are having a little dance next week and I wondered if you would come up and stay?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I should love to,’ Chloe said. ‘You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world, although I shan’t be doing much dancing. I’m beginning to feel a little oddly shaped.’

  ‘Oh, you silly thing,’ Justine said. ‘I’ll bet you look lovely. Will Pasha be home in time to come with you?’

  Chloe felt a sharp pain in her breast as she answered, trying for carelessness, ‘Oh, I very much doubt it. He is still away with the prince.’

  ‘Oh, well.’ Justine sighed. ‘I envied you when you married him, but it must be awfully boring that he’s away so much.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Chloe agreed, but it wasn’t boring. It was painful and it didn’t get any easier with time.

  She was thoughtful after she finished talking to her friend and replaced the receiver. She had hoped that it might become easier to accept that her marriage was over as the days, weeks and then months passed, but it wasn’t. In fact, it got worse as she became more aware of the child growing inside her, and wished that Pasha were there to share the experience with her.

  But of course all that was finished, the closeness and the loving were gone for good, and the ache in her heart was a constant reminder of that. Even if he was here, he would look at her with cold eyes, and that would be even harder to bear than his absence.

  Sighing, she reached for the telephone and began to call the hospital for news of Mariam. It took her some time to actu
ally make contact with the doctor who was treating Mariam, but when she finally did, the news was mixed.

  ‘We have removed the tumour,’ he told her. ‘I think that it may have been malignant, but we have managed to get it all and I believe that we may have been able to stop it spreading. Only time will tell—but at least she now has that time.’

  ‘Yes, of course, thank you, doctor.’

  Chloe replaced the receiver, feeling a little down. She could only hope that the doctor was right and that Pasha’s stepmother did indeed have some time left to her.

  But she mustn’t let herself dwell on Mariam’s illness; there was good news too. Justine was engaged, and she would be going to stay with her for a couple of days the following week.

  But it would have been so much better if Pasha had been here too. She thought wistfully of the last time he had kissed her and wished that she could wave a magic wand and turn back the clock.

  Pasha glanced at the heavy gold watch he wore on his wrist and sighed. These damned meetings seemed to drag on forever, and he was bored with having to attend them. It had taken weeks of negotiations to get his uncle to the stage where he was willing to sign the treaties with the British government, but at long last it looked as if he might be on the point of signing.

  Pasha frowned as he saw the prince rise to his feet. Now what was wrong? He had thought that this was to be the morning for the signatures to go ahead, but it appeared that the prince had changed his mind once more and that would mean endless meetings and discussions to bring him back to the point.

  And all Pasha wanted was to be in the country with Chloe. He had tried very hard to shut her out of his heart and mind these past weeks, telling himself that he would be a fool to let himself love a woman who could not bring herself to trust him, but she wouldn’t be shut out. Her image haunted him by day and by night…especially by night. Sometimes his dreams were so vivid that he felt she was with him until he woke to a cold bed and disappointment.

  He had hoped that once these meetings were over, he would finally be able to bow out of politics altogether—to live the life he wanted instead of being at his uncle’s right hand. But it seemed that he would have to control his own needs and desires once more.