"No! I'm leaving." He moved in her direction, but she drew back sharply. "Don't touch me, Karim. It's no use."
His brows drew together in anger. "I'm not a boy whom you can keep treating this way. I'm a man with a man's desire, and I'm holding it in check. Don't you know what a strain it puts on me when all I want is to take you?"
"Must you keep using those expressions! Is that the only way you can say you love me? Take… want… need… as if I'm an object that belongs to you!"
"You do belong to me!"
"Never. I belong to myself. I always have and I always will. I should never have got engaged to you. It was a mistake."
"Be quiet!" He lunged forward and gripped her shoulders. "You are overwrought and hysterical. You don't know what you're saying. We love each other, but we're tearing ourselves apart. Once you're my wife it will be different." His voice lowered, and the anger disappeared into tenderness, as if he were talking to a child.
And that's what she was to him, Fleur thought bitterly—a child and a sex object—not an intelligent woman with equal rights. How could she have imagined she would be happy with this man? To try and make him understand her was like trying to explain color to someone who had never seen.
"Go to your room and rest," he continued gently. "I will come up and see you in a little while."
"I don't want to rest. I want to leave."
"You don't mean it. You're only saying it because you saw your friend yesterday and he unsettled you. It's natural for him to want to put doubts in your mind."
She clutched at the thought of Rory, seeing him as her only means of escape. It would mean playing on Karim's jealousy, but it was the easiest way of getting him to release her without putting up a fight.
"It's because of Rory that I must go," she said hurriedly. "Seeing him again made me realize how much I've missed him. I… I hated the thought of his going back to England. It made me see I… that I care for him."
"I don't believe you. You love me—no one else." Karim's face was contorted with rage. "Say it. I want to hear you say it."
"I can't."
"You must. You love me. You can't marry anyone else."
"I can. I'm free to do as I want. And right now I want to be left alone."
"You're lying to me. I demand to know the truth. Do you love him or don't you? Is that what you're afraid to tell me?"
"Yes!" she cried, desperation driving her on. 'I'm afraid. Afraid of the way you're trying to dominate me. Afraid of your temper and your jealousy. I mightn't reach the heights with Rory, but at least he won't make me feel degraded."
"Degraded!" Karim spat out the word as if it were poison. "You dare to say my love for you degrades you?"
"Yes!" She was too overwrought to care how much she hurt him. "You'd never let me exist as the person I am. You'd try and turn me into a copy of your mother— someone who'd have no life apart from her home and children. You only pretend to admire me because I'm independent. Once we were married you'd dominate me." Her voice cracked. "The way you're trying to do now. Look at you! Showing off how strong you are because you know your kisses won't get what you want."
"Enough!" he thundered. "I won't listen to any more."
"How typical!" she taunted. "Giving me orders and expecting me to obey them. That's the only way your mind works with women. Passion one minute and orders the next. You talk of women having the same rights as men, but you don't mean a word of it. If you did, you'd have tried to help Nizea instead of kowtowing to your father."
"Leave my father out of this." Karim stepped back from her as if he could not bear to touch her. "If your feelings for this Englishman are stronger than your feelings for me, then have the courage to say so without putting the blame on my family."
"I'm trying to make you see…"
"I've seen enough." He turned his back on her. "Go if you must. But no more talk. Not another word."
Swiftly she turned and ran to her room. She remained there until she heard Mr. and Mrs. Khan and Nizea drive away. Only then, with her case in her hand, did she go down to the hall in search of a servant.
She had no idea how she would reach Teheran but, if there was no public transport, she was desperate enough to hire a private car for the journey, regardless of the cost. She was halfway across the hall when Karim came out of the salon. He looked more like a statue than a person, so grave were his features.
"If you will tell one of the servants when you are ready to leave," he said quietly, "our helicopter will take you to Teheran."
"I'm ready to leave now."
For a brief instant a light flared in his eyes. "You've packed quickly."
"I left most of my clothes at Madame Nadar's."
"Will you be going back there?"
"Only until I can get a flight to London." She had answered his question without thinking but realized that what she had said was the truth. It would be impossible for her to remain anywhere near Karim, and the sooner she left this country, the sooner she would forget him.
"When is your friend going?"
She tried to remember what Rory had said. "In a couple of days' time, I'll… I'll call him as soon as I get to Teheran and see if I can get on the same flight."
With a nod, Karim went to the door and called to someone. A moment later the helicopter pilot appeared. He gave her a slight smile.
"I will take your luggage to the car," he said. "We can leave at once."
"Thank you." She waited until he disappeared with her case and then walked through the door, careful to keep as far away from Karim as possible.
"Good-bye," she whispered shakily, keeping her eyes on the floor. "I… I'm sorry things had to end this way."
"It would have been more painful if we had already been married."
Knowing that had she been his wife she would never have had the courage to leave him, she went blindly down the steps and into the waiting car that would take her the half mile to the helicopter landing stage. She did not look back but resolutely stared ahead. From now she must never look back; never think of what might have been.
Was it possible for a person to live the rest of her life without a heart, she wondered, and knew that sometime in the years ahead she would find the answer, for she had left her heart with Karim Khan.
Thirteen
FLEUR paid off the taxi and went through the revolving doors leading to the offices of Benson & Bates. A pretty blond receptionist looked up at her approach.
"I have an appointment with Mr. Rory Baines," Fleur said.
"I'm not sure whether he's returned from holiday."
"He came back during the weekend. I saw him last night."
"You're better informed than I am," the girl smiled and motioned Fleur to sit down while she put a call through to him.
Ignoring the comfortable armchairs that decorated the foyer, Fleur went to stand by one of the windows. The traffic streamed past her along St. James's; cars and buses full of people going about their business, each one intent on his own affairs and not caring about anyone else. If only she could have such peace of mind. She knew she was being silly and that the people she was staring at probably had as many problems as herself. Yet she did not have any problems, she admonished herself. Once she could forget Karim, she would be fine.
As always his name brought back memories that stabbed her with pain. Karim kissing her and holding her, telling her how much he loved her; Karim begging her to forgive him for his jealousy and swearing that when she was his wife he would never doubt her. It was this kind of memory that darkened the other, happy ones and, if her months apart from him had taught her nothing else, it had shown her that her decision to leave him had been the right one. She loved him and would miss him all her life, but if she were faced with the same decision today, she would still leave him.
She moved slightly and the curtain at the window shifted, giving her a view of a heavily bearded man. He reminded her of Ibrahim Khan, and she wondered what he had said to Karim when he had learned
of her departure. How pleased he must be with himself. And why shouldn't he, when he no longer had to face the prospect of an English daughter-in-law? He had been a wily opponent; not using his influence over his son but content to let events take their course, almost as if he had known she herself would be sufficient catalyst to destroy the situation.
"Mr. Baines will see you now," the receptionist called.
Fleur went to the elevator. She had not been here since Rory's marriage. How strange to think she could no longer regard him as her "old faithful." Little had she known when she had gone with him to the opera two months ago that she would meet an old school friend there with whom he would swiftly fall in love.
"Is he special?" Jenny had asked in a whisper when they met for drinks in the intermission.
"A specially good friend," Fleur had stated. "Nothing more. He's all yours if you can get him."
"I'll do my best," Jenny had said; and her best had been sufficient to make Rory propose within a month.
Now they had returned from their honeymoon in Bermuda, and Fleur was seeing Rory about the lease of a new flat she was taking. Once the contract was signed, her life would be settled on a new course. She sighed. A new course was exactly what she wanted, and the sooner everything was arranged, the better. Resolutely she pushed aside the self-pity that, over the last few weeks, kept welling up inside her. She knew it was only because it was October; the month she might have been Karim's wife.
I've got to stop thinking of him, she vowed. He doesn't exist for me any more. I don't even like him. 1 never did.
The elevator doors opened, and she stepped into the corridor.
"Hello, gorgeous!" It was Rory standing outside his office, tanned and beaming, and she was so delighted by the well-being that exuded from him that she ran toward him and flung her arms around his neck.
As she drew back she saw a man emerge from a room on her left. He was with someone else, but his dark gaze was fixed upon her and she was glad Rory's arms were still about her, otherwise she would have fallen.
"Karim!"
His nod was brief and included the man beside her.
"I heard you were due over this week," Rory smiled. "But I didn't realize you'd already arrived."
"I arrived last week," Karim replied. "I gather you've just returned from your honeymoon?"
"Yes. Two weeks in Bermuda—hence the tan." Rory glanced at Fleur and then pushed open the door of his office.
She stepped forward, then politeness forced her to speak to Karim. "How are your parents and Nizea?"
"My family are fine, thank you." His tone was formal, his glance still uncaring as he gave a casual nod and continued on his way.
Rory closed the office door, and Fleur collapsed into a chair. She knew Rory was watching her, but no amount of will-power could make her pretend she was unaffected by the sight of Karim. She felt shattered. He had looked at her as if she were a stranger. In the worst of her nightmares she had never seen his eyes so bleakly upon her.
"What was all that about?" Rory asked. "I thought you were going to faint when you saw him."
"I was surprised."
Rory sat at his desk. "I don't want to tread on corns, old girl, but would Karim Khan be the reason you rushed back from Iran? To begin with, I had hoped it was because of me, but I pretty soon knew it wasn't. Then I met Jenny and forgot everything except marrying her. But now I'm able to think rationally again…" He peered at her. "Were you in love with him?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"Is he in love with you?"
"Does it look it?" she asked bitterly.
"No. But then you can never tell with people like Khan. He doesn't give his thoughts away."
She thought of the burning passion of Karim's mouth and knew how wrong this was. But she could not say so to Rory and instead thrust the contract at him. "Let's talk about this. That's what I'm here for."
"In other words, let's stick to business."
"Please, Rory, I don't want to talk about Karim. I was in love with him, and things didn't work out."
With a shrug Rory took up the contract and, for the next hour went through it carefully with her, pointing out the different clauses and suggesting she think them over before committing herself to them.
"It beats me why you want to buy a flat," he concluded. "I can't see your remaining single for long."
"Don't start matchmaking just because you've been hooked! I'm quite happy as I am."
"You're miles thinner," he commented. "I noticed it at the wedding, and it's even more noticeable now."
"You should have eyes only for your wife," she teased.
"It's because I'm so happy with Jenny that I look at other women with such affection!" His eyes rested on her breasts, their fullness more noticeable because of her slenderness. "I've never seen you in emerald green before," he added. "You look more like a model than a teacher."
"That's because I am a, model."
"I don't believe you!"
"It's true. I felt teaching was getting me into a rut so I've given myself a year off to try my hand at other things. Modeling is one of them. I've already had a trip to Paris since you've been away, and this afternoon I'm going to see another agency that's interested in me."
"I bet they are," he said promptly. "But show me any contract before you sign it. I may be Jenny's old man, but I'm still your watchdog."
His teasing was good for her, and she could smile almost as if she meant it. She put the lease into her bag and stood up.
"Are you free for lunch?" he asked. "I have another appointment at two fifteen, but I've time for a snack."
"Suits me," she said, knowing she would sink into a depression if she were left alone.
Linking her arm through his in a deliberate gesture of gaiety, she walked with him to the elevator. Most of the partners and other clients were leaving the offices for the lunch hour and twice the elevator passed them, too full to stop. But on the third time the doors opened and they stepped in. Too late she saw Karim at the back, talking to a portly, silver-haired man whom she recognized as Sir Morgan Bates.
"Hullo, Rory," Sir Morgan said. "Glad to see you got back on time."
"I gathered that several bets had been taken that I wouldn't," Rory grinned. "I hope you didn't lose any money on me, sir?"
The elder man chuckled. "I knew Jenny wouldn't let you slack. Which reminds me, I'm dining with your father-in-law on Friday. Will you both be there?"
"Yes."
"Good. We'll talk then."
He resumed his conversation with Karim and, from the corner of her eye, Fleur saw Karim's face was pale, his eyes glittering so brightly that they seemed devoid of sight.
"As I was saying," Sir Morgan continued, "if we can get that merger…"
"Forgive me," Karim interrupted, "but would you mind if we canceled our lunch today?"
"Why… er… no. Is anything wrong, my boy?"
Before Karim could reply, the elevator reached the ground floor, and everyone moved out. Fleur pulled at Rory's arm, hoping he would increase his speed, but if anything he seemed to walk more slowly, and she was aware of Sir Morgan and Karim directly behind her.
"Fleur!" Karim's voice was like a bullet in her back, and she jerked but refused to stop.
"Fleur!" he called again. "I must talk to you. Are you free?"
"No." She clung to Rory's arm as if it were her salvation. "I'm lunching with…"
"Of course Fleur's free." Rory swiftly loosened her clinging fingers and placed them on Karim's arm.
She tried to draw back, but his hand came up instantly and gripped hers. "Excuse me, both of you," he said jerkily, looking from Rory to Sir Morgan. "I'll explain later. But first I've a few things to say to Fleur."
Swiftly he pulled her towards the entrance, moving with such speed that she had to run to keep up with him. Even when they reached the pavement, he did not stop but strode towards a black limousine parked by the curb.
"Get in," Ka
rim ordered and pushed her none too gently into the back seat. He followed swiftly, as if afraid she would try to escape, and slammed the door. "Home," he said tersely, and the car immediately moved forward.
"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.
"Somewhere we can be alone. And don't argue, because I won't listen."
She remained silent throughout the journey, not because she was afraid of this man who was suddenly a stranger, but because she was afraid of what his nearness was doing to her. Obliquely she looked at him. In profile he looked even more forbidding than when she had seen him in the elevator. Deeply etched lines were carved down the sides of his nose, and there were shadows beneath his eyes. His skin too, had lost some of its glow and, now that a flush of anger was no longer staining it, seemed to be sallow, as if he had been ill and had not yet recovered. Her heart lurched and quickly she gazed ahead. It was not a moment too soon, for she felt him turn and regard her.
"You are more beautiful than ever," he stated flatly. "I have often thought about your hair and…" He stopped speaking and was silent for so long that she was surprised when he continued. "I remembered it as being the color of burnished gold, but I see memory has played me false. It has more red in it. It's like a flame."
"It only looks more red because I'm wearing a bright color." Her voice was thin, and she cleared her throat.
"In Persia you only wore pastel shades."
"I have a new image now." Her voice was still high. "I've given up teaching. I'm a model. Does that shock you?"
He did not answer, and she saw that the car was drawing to a halt outside a luxurious block of flats overlooking Hyde Park. The chauffeur opened the door, and Knrlm steppcd out He saw the quick glance she gave to her right as she followed him, and his fingers gripped themselves hurtfully around her arm.
"You're not escaping so easily," he muttered and pulled her forward.
"Please let go of me," she protested. "I promise not to run away."
Immediately he released his hold, and she walked beside him into the foyer an
Roberta Leigh - Flower of the Desert Page 16