Leo’s suspicions crystallised. Her temper, simmering all day, seemed to shoot out of the top of her head.
‘How dare you?’ she yelled.
Amer blinked.
‘I’m not moving in with you. Not if you were the last man on earth. And if you think a disaster in my private life will push me into your arms, you’ve got me very wrong.’
There was a very nasty silence. Amer had not moved. But all of a sudden he looked dangerous.
‘You are insulting,’ he said softly.
Leo quailed inwardly. But she was not going to admit it.
‘And you’re an opportunist,’ she flung back at him.
‘You are so wrong,’ he said. ‘Was I an opportunist last night?’
Leo paled.
‘Let me assure you—’ his voice was very soft but the grey eyes were like chips of flint ‘—you have no need to fear me. I have never wanted you less than I do at this moment.’
‘Oh.’ Leo was so angry that she was not even upset. Maybe later, she thought. Now she just wanted to hit him. ‘How dare you?’
‘The last thing any man wants is a woman who thinks she has no alternative,’ Amer told her. His voice bit. ‘What fun is there in a woman who has been pushed into your arms?’
‘In that case—’
He swept on, ignoring her. ‘A man,’ he said very softly, ‘does his own hunting.’
Leo felt the shock go through her as if she had walked into a block of ice. For a moment it left her quite numb. Her brain was working. But nothing else.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you said that.’
‘Believe it.’
Her body came back on line. She found it was shaking. Was she afraid of him? The idea was insupportable.
‘I don’t like threats,’ she hissed.
‘What threats?’
‘You implied I was some sort of—prey.’ Leo could not help herself. She shuddered.
‘That’s nonsense and you know it. Prey gets killed. That’s not what I want to do to you at all.’
She was not going to ask him what he did want to do to her. She was not.
‘And you know that, too. You ought to.’ The caressing note was back. Was it calculated? She just did not know. All she knew was that it was too horribly reminiscent of last night.
Reluctant, ashamed, Leo met his eyes. She could see that he was remembering last night, too. And she had almost managed to blank it out of her memory. Yet suddenly it was there in the room with them: what she had said. What, Heaven help her, she had done.
Leo shut her eyes. ‘Please go.’
‘No,’ said Amer unhelpfully. ‘You’re my promised wife. I have a responsibility.’
Leo opened her eyes and glared. ‘Will you please,’ she said intensely, ‘stop calling me your promised wife You know perfectly well I didn’t mean it.’
‘But I did.’
She could have danced with rage. ‘Well too bad. Because I’m not going to marry anybody, And—’
There was a long peal on the doorbell.
‘Now what?’ said Leo exasperated.
She trod round the coffee table and suitcases and went to answer it. To her amazement it was her father.
‘Pops!’
‘May I come in?’
Leo was blank. Gordon Groom never came to her bit of the house. If he wanted to see her he left a message at work. A couple of times he had called and asked her over to the main house on the spur of the moment. But turn up humbly on her doorstep like any ordinary visitor? Never. She could not believe it.
‘Yes, if you—’ She remembered Amer. ‘Well—’
Gordon did not notice her reluctance. He shouldered past her, frowning with his own preoccupations.
‘You were worked up earlier,’ he said. ‘Now you’ve had time to think rationally—’
He caught sight of Amer. At once his hackles rose. Leo saw it with a sinking heart.
‘This isn’t a good time, Pops,’ she began. Her voice shook.
Gordon did not take any notice of her. He thrust his chin out pugnaciously.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded.
Amer looked at Leo. She seemed frozen. Gordon swung back on her.
‘How long has he been here? Have you been seeing someone behind Simon’s back? Is that why Simon dumped you?’
Leo said numbly, ‘Simon didn’t dump me.’
Gordon ignored that, too. He gave a crow of triumph. ‘I knew there had to be more in it that you said. I just knew it. You fool.’
It was like all their other arguments, ever since she was a child. The loud, hectoring voice, the refusal to listen to her—Leo knew it so well. And she still did not know how to deal with it.
‘I’ll call him,’ said Gordon, the fixer, pursuing his own train of thought. ‘See if I can smooth things over. He’s a good lad. He’ll listen to reason.’
Leo could feel the familiar helplessness swelling up until it closed her throat. She felt suffocated.
She found an arm round her shoulders.
‘You are right,’ Amer said quietly. ‘I am Leonora’s lover.’ Leo flinched. Then, under the pressure of his fingers, stood perfectly still. She felt numb.
Gordon was diverted briefly from his plotting. He looked impatient.
‘Not any more you’re not.’
It was his turn to be ignored.
‘And I am going to marry her.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
TWELVE hours later Leo was on a plane.
Amer, more businesslike than she had ever seen him, had simply taken charge. She had been swept off to spend the night in a quietly exclusive hotel. And then this morning Hari Farah had arrived with her passport, tickets and instructions to accompany her to Dalmun.
Leo had not slept and she was feeling spaced out. Although Hari was exquisitely polite she regarded him with suspicion.
‘Where is Amer?’
‘He has some matters to arrange. Nothing of significance. But long-standing arrangements will need to be changed,’ said Hari smoothly, conveniently forgetting the acrimonious telephone call that had been in progress when he left the Mayfair house. The old Sheikh had not been at all pleased at his son’s news and was saying so at length.
Leo was too proud to ask any more. Anyway, there was no point in asking Hari the most burning question in her mind.
Why had Amer left her alone last night? She would have resisted to the point of violence if Amer had assumed that because he had decided for some reason of his own that it amused him to rescue her from her predicament, he was entitled to make love to her, of course. But she was disconcerted that he had not even tried.
So she allowed herself to be swept off to the airport, still in a daze from her sleepless night. Amer had managed a brief, courteous phone call this morning. But that was all.
‘What is he doing?’ she said to herself as much as Hari.
Hari did not answer. He was too polite. He could have said he wished he knew. In all the years he had known him he had never seen Amer like this.
He had even said so, during the dawn telephone calls.
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘I’m going to marry her,’ Amer replied.
Hari was grim. ‘Since when?’
‘Since she asked me.’
‘Since she—’ Hari was lost for words.
‘Well, to be honest since she dared me not to.’
‘You’re crazy,’ said Hari finding words came to mind after all. ‘And what’s more so is she.’
‘Oh no, she’s got very cold feet now.’
‘Cold feet? You mean she wants to back out and you won’t let her?’
‘That’s not a very romantic way of putting it,’ said Amer reproachfully.
‘Romantic! You are crazy.’ A thought occurred to Hari. ‘You’re not in love with her, are you?’
Amer hesitated. ‘She asked me to marry her,’ he said obstinately. ‘She’s not going to wriggle out of it.’
‘She’ll hate you,
’ said Hari with gloomy satisfaction.
‘But she’ll learn not to go asking men to marry her because she’s lost her temper.’
Hari stared at Amer. ‘You’re not serious.’
Amer stared back, implacable.
‘You are serious. You can’t do this. Not just to teach the girl a lesson.’
‘I can do whatever I want,’ Amer said haughtily.
Hari despaired and said so. Amer was unmoved. Hari banged off to pack.
When he had gone, Amer’s arrogant smile died. He was not going to admit it to Hari but he knew that what he was doing was irrational.
At first she had just infuriated him, throwing out her challenging proposal like that as if he were negligible, a nothing in her life. He had needed, really needed, as he told her last night, to show her he was a man who did his own hunting. And made sure that every one else knew that she was his and no one else’s. Hell, he had even been jealous of her dictatorial old father.
But there was more to it than that. He wanted to treasure her, to make her feel safe; to make her feel wonderful. To make her look again as she had in his arms, bewildered by bliss. And he wanted it forever.
And if she didn’t want it, too bad! He straightened his shoulders. She would in time. If it was the last thing he did, he would make her want him as he wanted her.
Leo, in Hari’s charge after Amer’s polite and passionless phone call, had given up thinking. She told herself she did not want passion from Amer. Of course she did not. But the lack of it made her feel lost and even more bereft than her departure from home and job.
She hid it, allowing Hari to usher her into the first-class cabin and to probe—discreetly—into her relationship with his boss. Since she did not know what it all meant herself she did not give much for his chances of enlightenment.
‘I am just coming to Dalmun for a visit,’ Leo announced. ‘My mother thinks I need a holiday somewhere warm.’
She said it several times. It sounded increasingly hollow. Hari, however, was too polite to say so.
She was clearly exhausted. He let her snooze. Time enough to pass on some essential background information when she was more alert.
She woke when the cabin crew started to serve lunch.
‘I took the liberty of ordering for you,’ Hari told her. ‘You were sleeping so peacefully. But if you do not like anything, they will be only too happy to fetch you something else.’
‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ muttered Leo.
Awake at last, she wondered what on earth she was getting herself into. What she doing on this plane? How could she have let Amer el-Barbary take charge of her life like that? If she needed an exotic holiday why had she not gone to the Seychelles or Barbados on her own?
Because, said a cynical little voice inside her, nobody goes to the Seychelles or Barbados on their own. And Amer el-Barbary had not stopped to ask her permission.
‘I am sure you will find it interesting,’ Hari said diplomatically. ‘Er, what exactly has His Excellency told you about the country?’
His Excellency! Leo winced. Hari could not have said anything which made her realise how far away her world was from Amer’s. Or how little she knew about him really.
‘Nothing very much at all,’ she muttered.
Hari hid his dismay and embarked on a rapid thumbnail sketch.
‘It is very old. Dalmun City was on the frankincense road.’
Leo struggled to concentrate. It felt as if she were in the middle of a nightmare.
‘The frankincense road?’
‘It went along the edge of the desert,’ Hari explained. ‘In the monsoon season, traders sailed to India and even China. They brought back all sorts of things that people wanted in Europe. Silks, feathers, spices. The road developed to take exotic goods north to the markets.’
Silks, feathers and spices. Exotic indeed. And for all Amer’s Italian suits and Impressionist paintings, that was his real heritage. And she knew nothing of it at all.
Just because he could set her senses on fire, it did not mean that they had anything like enough to bridge that centuries-deep gap of culture. Leo felt very cold.
Hari ploughed on conscientiously. ‘At one time there were several cities strung out along the road where the merchants would stop and trade. Just ruins now, of course. That is where His Excellency got his interest in archaeology, of course.’
‘Amer is interested in archaeology? I didn’t know,’ said Leo, chalking up another failure of communication.
Unaware, Hari smiled reminiscently. ‘He has always been interested, since he was a child. It was the subject he studied at his English university. For a while he even threatened his father he would make it his profession.’ He laughed. ‘His father had not spoken to him for a year. But when he heard that, he summoned him to the Palace at once. But I’m sorry to bore you. His Excellency must have told you this already.’
The nightmare pressed closer. His Excellency, Leo was beginning to realise, had told her precisely nothing about himself.
‘N-no.’
Hari thought hard thoughts about Amer. How on earth was this woman going to deal with the seething politics of Dalmun without some background? It was like sending a tourist into the desert without a compass.
He set himself to repair the omission as best he could in the remaining hours of the flight.
Which was how Leo learned that Amer was the Sheikh’s only surviving son and expected to take up the reins of leadership eventually. His father was passionate and volatile, however, and Amer was no obedient cipher. So they lived in separate palaces, more often than not at odds with each other.
‘His Majesty is very—traditional,’ Hari said, choosing his words with care. ‘He does not like things to change. The ministers know that progress cannot be halted and that His Excellency recognises this. So they consult him on policy—but informally, if you follow me. Everyone looks to Sheikh Amer to persuade his father to improve things. But, of course, in the end it is always His Majesty’s decision.’
‘It sounds appalling,’ said Leo from the heart. ‘Responsibility without power. The pits. Especially if he is fond of his father.’
Hari looked at her in quick surprise. Not many of Amer’s friends had understood that. None of the girl-friends that he could remember had come anywhere near appreciating Amer’s dilemma. He suddenly felt a lot more hopeful.
‘You are so right,’ he agreed with enthusiasm. He became less correct. And a good deal less discreet. ‘It’s a real tightrope. His father is unpredictable. For example, last year he confined Amer to house arrest for a while when he refused to marry again.’
Leo froze.
Hari did not notice. ‘We were all afraid,’ he went on. ‘But then someone presented him with a wild caught saker falcon and he insisted that Amer went on a hunting trip with him to try it out. And when they came back, all their disagreements were forgotten. Amer was allowed to go to Egypt just as if they had never had a disagreement.’ He shrugged helplessly.
‘Was that when I met him?’ Leo said hollowly. ‘After he’d just come out of house arrest?’
‘Yes.’
‘And just because he did not want to marry again?’
Hari was rueful. ‘You must understand that there is a lot of tribal unrest in Dalmun. Officially we do not admit it but in practice there are several tribes—particularly some of desert Bedouins—who are dissatisfied with the part they are allowed to play in government. Amer wants to deal with this by negotiation but his father thinks that another family alliance is all that is needed.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Amer’s first wife came from a powerful border family,’ he explained. ‘They used to make trouble regularly. But ever since the marriage they have sided with His Majesty. Even after she died—’ He stopped. Leo had flinched. ‘What is it?’ he said in concern.
‘I didn’t know.’ Her mouth felt stiff. The words sounded strange. ‘How did she die? Was it recent?’
Hari was shocked. Damn it, what was Amer doing with this girl?
He said reassuringly, ‘It was years ago. Amer was still at university.’
‘What was she like?’
Hari shrugged. It was years since he had thought about the spoilt beauty that Amer had married.
‘I didn’t really know her. I was very young. She was very beautiful, very fashionable.’
Leo’s heart sank like a stone.
‘How did she die? Was she ill?’
‘No, nothing like that. It was an accident. She was thrown from a horse. Somewhere in France I believe.’
‘How terrible,’ she whispered.
Hari was startled. Then uncomfortable. ‘It was a long time ago,’ he said again. ‘I do not think Amer is still grieving. I’ve never heard him mention her.’
‘But he did not marry again,’ Leo said. ‘If it was so long ago you would have expected him to fall in love again, wouldn’t you?’
She could imagine all too vividly how the death of his young wife must have struck him to the core. She felt desolate at the thought.
Hari saw he had made a mistake and did not know how to retrieve it. He pushed a harassed hand through his hair.
‘Oh, he has not been short of love,’ he said unwisely. ‘There was just no reason for him to marry.’
Leo gave him a stricken look. He could have kicked himself.
‘Look,’ he said desperately, ‘don’t get the wrong idea. In Dalmun marriage is a strategic thing. For everyone involved. It is all very practical. Don’t start thinking of Amer as some tragic, grief-stricken hero. He isn’t.’
Leo did not answer.
So why had Amer accepted her vainglorious challenge? Why had he pursued her? She had thought she had the answer. Pride! But in that case why, when he had defeated her in every way there was, why was he still insisting that they were engaged in spite of her denials?
Well, now she had the answer to that, too. He did not want to make one of those practical, strategic marriages. Probably he was still in love with his tragically dead wife. He wanted her as high-class camouflage, to keep his father at bay when he pressed him to marry again.
Leo flayed herself with the thought.
Oh, there were other elements, of course. Amer, she knew by now, wanted to win any game he played. When she slipped away from Cairo without leaving him a message he must have felt for a moment that he had lost that game. He would not have tolerated that, hence the private investigators.
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