The Sheikh's Bride

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by Sophie Weston


  ‘Come along,’ he said, odiously sympathetic. ‘Fatima will find you something less air cooled to wear.’

  Leo took hold of the ends of her torn shirt and knotted them savagely over her midriff. Then, head high, she followed him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AMER almost flung Leo into the arms of Fatima. Their approach had brought her to the entrance flap of one of the smaller tents. Her eyes widened as she took in the full enormity of Leo’s ragged state.

  ‘Deal with it.’ Amer said harshly in his own language.

  Leo was stricken. She turned her face away so that he should not see and swept past him without a word.

  Fatima sent him an alarmed look and whisked Leo inside with little coos of concern.

  ‘Those villains. What have they done to you?’

  Leo was confused. ‘What?’

  ‘And His Excellency.’ Fatima was genuinely shocked. ‘They attacked him?’ She sounded as if she could not believe it.

  ‘No—’

  But Fatima was plucking at the torn trousers, shaking her head, and Leo realised what she was talking about. She blushed.

  ‘We, er, there was a bit of an accident,’ she said lamely.

  Fatima was horrified. ‘You are hurt?’

  To the heart, thought Leo.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  Fatima was not convinced.

  ‘You shall rest,’ she said firmly. ‘And then we will heat water and you shall bathe before you dine with His Excellency.’

  They had set his own tent out as efficiently as ever. Even though he had left in such a hurry, his staff had followed with the full complement of equipment. The camp was now the luxury resting place that they prepared when he and his father went on hawking trips in the desert.

  Amer unbuckled his dagger and sank wearily onto a divan.

  What a damned thing to happen. He had thought he could show her that he respected her. That he needed her. She already knew how much he wanted her, God help them both. And then Saeed and his heroes had frightened her half to death and he, Amer, had shouted at her and all but lost control in the terrifying rush of relief in knowing her safe.

  She was not a trusting woman. Would she ever trust him now?

  Amer gave a mirthless laugh.

  Fatima brought Leo a lemon sherbet. While Leo sipped at the sharp, foaming drink, Fatima slipped her out of her ragged clothes and helped her into a cotton robe.

  Leo saw that the tent had been prepared with care. The ground was covered in rugs, one piled carelessly on the other, worked in indigo and turquoise and a brilliant cornflower blue that burned like the sun outside. On the top one there was a design of the tree of life picked out in blood-red and jet.

  ‘That is a masterpiece,’ she said, hesitating to walk on it.

  Fatima smiled approvingly. ‘It was Sheikh Amer who told us to bring it. He said your tent had to be full of beautiful things to distract you from ugliness.’

  She magicked a director’s chair from somewhere and disappeared.

  Leo sank into the canvas seat and looked around. She shook her head disbelievingly. She had not believed the comfort of her captors’ tent. But that was as nothing to the sheer luxury of this.

  In addition to the amazing carpets, the main supports of the tent were decorated with gauzy hangings on which there was the distinct glint of gold motifs. A low divan was covered with midnight velvet and strewn with cushions in velvet and brocade and shot silk in all the peacock colours: jade and emerald and sea-green and navy. Again there was the glint of gold trimmings and tassels. Leo blinked at the gold but it looked blessedly comfortable.

  ‘Just the thing for the Sultan’s favourite,’ she said ironically.

  So why had Amer ordered this bower to be prepared for her? Did he expect to spend the night here? Her heart beat faster at the thought. And if he did, what was she going to do about it? Fall into his arms as she just had in the land cruiser? Or try to be sensible and guard her heart from another wounding power contest?

  Guard her heart? Who was she trying to fool? What was the point of guarding something already utterly breached? Her heart was occupied territory now.

  She submitted wearily to Fatima’s ministrations. And fell into an exhausted sleep.

  When she was awoke, the tent was almost in darkness. A small light burned steadily on a carved stool. Leo stretched slowly. Her dreams had been sensual in the extreme. She felt wonderful.

  Fatima came in, her feet noiseless on the rich carpets.

  ‘You are awake. Good. His Excellency said not to wake you.’

  Leo frowned. ‘Amer was here?’

  Fatima’s smile was bland.

  ‘But here? Here in my tent?’

  ‘He wanted to be sure that you had not taken any hurt from those villains. He watched over you while you slept.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Leo, shaken. ‘I didn’t know.’

  But her body had known. And her dreams. She swallowed.

  ‘His Excellency will dine with you,’ Fatima informed her. ‘So you will want to bathe, yes?’

  Her tone implied and make yourself beautiful for him. The Sultan’s favourite indeed, thought Leo, amused. But the idea was oddly exciting as well.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed slowly. ‘Yes, I will.’

  Fatima helped Leo to her feet and led her tenderly through the hangings. Leo was stunned. Set out for her pleasure was a hip bath of old-fashioned design. Steam and a delectable scent wafted up from it.

  Two girls stood to one side. They carried pitchers half as big as they were and were trying hard to look solemn. Not very successfully.

  Fatima frowned at them. She whipped away the loose robe in which Leo had slept and held her hand while she stepped gingerly into the bath. She gave her an enormous sponge that someone had dived into the depths of the Red Sea to bring back.

  The girls looked agonized as they tried to control their excited giggles. At Fatima’s command, they brought oils and shampoo and added warm water. It smelled of rose petals. She said so.

  Fatima smiled. ‘His Excellency’s personal instruction,’ she murmured.

  Afterwards Fatima massaged Leo with scented oils until her muscles felt exquisitely toned. The girls stroked perfume into her wrists. Then they outlined her eyes with the finest possible trace of kohl and brushed her hair until it shone. They left it loose on her shoulders. Leo wondered if that was His Excellency’s personal instruction as well. Finally they dressed her in silks so soft that her body hardly felt clothed.

  Fatima gave her a mirror. Leo saw a woman she did not recognise: huge eyes, soft skin, vulnerable mouth. Too vulnerable? With sudden recklessness, Leo thought, I’ll take my chances. She, who never trusted anyone! It was exhilarating.

  Amer would not know her, she thought. Ah, but would he like her in this new guise? Leo gave a long sweet shiver of voluptuous anticipation. Over her shoulder Fatima smiled in complete female understanding.

  ‘I will take you to Sheikh Amer,’ she said.

  Outside, the heat of the day had given place to a pleasant warmth. There was no breeze. On the other side of the camp Leo caught a glimpse of fires and heard cheerful voices.

  Fatima skirted the main tent and took her to another, set a little away from the others.

  ‘His Excellency’s tent,’ she explained.

  For a moment Leo’s courage almost deserted her. She hesitated, half wanting to turn back. But Fatima gave her a little push and disappeared.

  Leo swallowed hard and went inside.

  It was more austere than her tent but more magnificent. The divan was huge. There was an intricately carved desk, as well as chairs and several brass-bound trunks. The hangings and the rugs were sombre. But everywhere there was gold: trays, coffeepots, an oil lamp. Even Amer’s curved dagger which lay discarded on the desk glinted with gold.

  This is a dream, Leo thought. A deserted dream. She stopped hesitating and went, soft footed, to a gilt chair. She sat on the very edge of it, trying to be calm.


  She was trying so hard that she did not hear Amer’s step. He stood in the entrance for a moment, watching her bent head. He frowned.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Leo jumped at the soft voice. She looked up quickly.

  He seemed very tall. He was wearing black again, a loose coat in fine lawn, with a chased silver border, over a light robe. As he strode forward, she saw that he was wearing a deep belt of plaited leather decorated with beaten silver. He looked devastating.

  ‘I’m f-fine.’ But there was a catch in her voice.

  ‘You don’t sound very sure.’

  Leo was briefly indignant. How could he expect her to be sure of anything? She was sitting here like a traditional plaything, bathed and scented for his pleasure. She did not feel like herself at all.

  She almost said so. But the events of the day must have taken their toll. She could not face pointing out to Amer that she was cast as Harem Favourite and did not know the words because…Well, she just could not face it, that was all.

  He was so distant, standing there. How could he be distant after that crazy episode in the land cruiser? Was this the man who had flung himself upon her, shaking with passion?

  Leo could not meet his eyes.

  ‘I’m happy as a clam,’ she said brusquely, her colour heightened.

  Amer did not challenge her.

  He said curtly, ‘I said I wouldn’t apologise. I was wrong. I’m sorry.’

  Leo stared. Was he apologising for making her feel that he had wanted her? Really wanted her, without reservations? Or because he hadn’t, in the end, wanted her enough. She felt as if he had hit her where she was most unguarded.

  He added irritably, ‘But you shouldn’t have made me mad.’

  Leo recovered. ‘So it’s my fault you attacked me?’ she said, brutal in her hurt.

  If he had really been sorry, she thought, he would have grovelled. He would have excused himself for being carried away by the strength of his feelings. He would have said he never meant to hurt her. He would have promised never to hurt her again. Never to take her to the very edge of Paradise and leave her there, abandoned.

  He didn’t. Instead he looked at her very levelly, not speaking. Leo felt her colour rise.

  ‘What? What?’ she said aggressively. ‘I invited it? Is that what you mean? Well, is it?’

  Oh where had all that lovely voluptuous expectation gone?

  Amer said quietly, ‘No more games, Leonora.’

  ‘Games?’ echoed Leo. She was outraged.

  ‘Games.’ He was sober. ‘Be honest. We have both done our share of throwing down gauntlets. And I for one have enjoyed it. I admit it. But the time for all that is over.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Leo, disconcerted.

  ‘When Saeed’s group kidnapped you I felt—’ He hesitated.

  Leo held her breath.

  ‘Responsible,’ he finished.

  The disappointment was so great that Leo could have wept.

  She said in a hard voice, ‘There’s no need to feel responsible for me. If I hadn’t chosen to go to the market against all advice, I would not have been kidnapped in the first place.’

  Amer made an impatient gesture. ‘That’s not what I meant. I—’

  They were interrupted by a courtly servant. Amer looked irritated. But he nodded.

  ‘They have set a meal for us at the old excavations,’ he said. ‘I thought it would please you.’

  Leo stood up obediently. Just for a moment Amer’s face softened. He reached out and slid a hand under her hair. She could feel the warmth of his palm against her nape. It made her feel soft and shockingly vulnerable.

  If only he loved me. The thought came out of nowhere. She bit her lip and retreated out of reach.

  Amer’s hand fell. His face lost all expression. He turned and led her out under the desert stars.

  A rug had been set for them on the other side of the steps he had pointed out to her. They effectively screened them from the rest of the camp. Food was brought and placed on a wide cloth. They ate, though Leo had trouble swallowing even a mouthful. Eventually Amer waved the servants away.

  Leo looked at the desert, stretching away to its meeting point with the stars. It was awe inspiring. In this sculpted wilderness the moon, she found, cast shadows. The stars blazed like a jeweller’s tray of diamonds.

  It made her feel tiny. She shivered.

  Amer looked up. ‘You are cold?’

  ‘No.’

  It was true. There was a breeze but it was warm, scented with strange desert grasses and wood smoke.

  ‘You shivered.’

  ‘Not from cold. This—’ she gestured ‘—makes us seem very small, doesn’t it? Just for a moment I felt really alone.’

  ‘Alone? But I am here.’

  In the dark Leo found the courage to say, ‘But you haven’t been very companionable.’

  ‘Companionable!’ He snorted contemptuously. ‘What do you think I am, Leonora?’ He sounded furious again.

  She was confused. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Pets are companionable. Cats and little lap dogs are companionable. Like your Simon Hartley.’

  ‘Simon?’

  He smote one clenched hand into the other. ‘Tell me now, Leonora. Were you really in love with that fool?’

  Leo could not believe that he would ask. ‘W-with Simon?’ she said incredulously.

  ‘When you broke off the engagement you said it was the worst day in your life,’ he reminded her.

  Leo had forgotten. She struggled to remember.

  ‘Well, the day was. I had a mail-order ring and a journalist taking me to pieces. And that was before I found out that my engagement was a done deal between my father and an ambitious subordinate. How would you feel?’

  Amer waited.

  Leo cleared her throat. ‘And then you were in town and I didn’t understand you. I didn’t know what you wanted.’ She swallowed. ‘I still don’t.’

  He made a disbelieving noise. ‘Yet it is clear enough.’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘I want you,’ he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Leo sat utterly still. A little eddy of breeze lifted her hair from her lightly clad shoulders. She could not look at him.

  She said sadly, ‘Me? Or just not to lose the game?’

  ‘What?’ He was astounded.

  Leo made a helpless gesture. ‘“Come with me to the Casbah”,’ she said.

  ‘Oh not that again.’ He made an impatient movement.

  ‘No. Listen to me. It seemed to me that—’ Heavens this was difficult ‘—that what happened between us was a sort of competitive game to you. I left Cairo and you couldn’t find me. So I sort of won. And then—when I saw you in London—it seemed as if you had to get your own back.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The way you found out about me,’ Leo said, trying to put the feeling into words. ‘Picking me up in the limo when I wasn’t expecting it. Carrying me off to dinner when I didn’t want to go. It felt as if you were showing me you could do anything you liked with me.’

  Which of course was true. But it shouldn’t be true. And he certainly shouldn’t be allowed to take advantage of it.

  Amer let out an explosive breath. ‘I told you. A man likes to do his own hunting.’

  Leo shivered. ‘Yes but I don’t like feeling like quarry.’

  He leaned forward suddenly, trying to make out her expression in the dark.

  ‘Don’t you?’ Suddenly there was amusement in his voice.

  Leo avoided his eyes and desperately looked for something to keep her hands busy. Or she would reach out to him. And that would be disastrous.

  She took a peach she did not want. At once Amer took it from her and peeled it with a gold-handled knife. He had done that before, Leo remembered. She tried not to. His fingers were long and dextrous. Leo swallowed and avoided looking at his hands as well.

  He said, ‘What do you think has been h
appening here?’

  That, thought Leo mutinously, is just not fair.

  Aloud she said, ‘I was stupid enough to challenge you at the Antika reception. You can’t resist a challenge. Hence this nonsense about being engaged.’

  ‘Nonsense?’

  He passed her the neatly quartered peach. Leo looked at it and wondered how she was going to swallow a mouthful of it.

  ‘Well, joke then,’ she amended.

  ‘In that case the joke has got a little out of hand, wouldn’t you say?’

  That hurt.

  ‘Probably.’ Leo replied. ‘I’d better go home.’

  ‘Running away again,’ he said softly.

  ‘I’m not running. I have a life to get on with.’

  ‘Do you think I haven’t?’ he said on a flash of sudden anger. ‘Dear Heaven, do you know how delicate the situation here is? How hard we have to work to keep it in equilibrium? Why the hell do you think I did not come to you on the one night you had eventually decided to accept me? I was with the Council, God help me, trying to stop my father starting a small war!’

  Leo blinked at the suppressed fury in his tones. He banged his hand down on the cloth so hard that the little gold-stemmed goblets jumped. One fell over.

  Leo forgot that it was dangerous to look him in the eye. Her head reared up, startled. Their eyes locked. Amer gave an odd laugh under his breath.

  ‘This is getting us nowhere.’

  He stood up and held out an imperious hand. ‘Walk with me.’

  Leo got to her feet. She knew it was not sensible. But she gave him her hand anyway. His fingers closed over hers. It seemed as if she felt his strength flow through her.

  The warm desert night was heady, too heady. The vaulting sky was so bright and clear that it looked as if you could touch it. Leo staggered a little, feeling the world wheel.

  Amer dropped her hand and put his arm round her. The world did not steady, but she leaned against him involuntarily. It made her feel safe and yet unsafe. As if he would protect her from every threat but himself. Who was the greatest threat of all.

  Leo felt the chill of excitement touch her skin like the desert breeze.

  He walked her purposefully towards a thin tree on the edge of the site.

 

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