Stormy Affair

by Mayo, Margaret

  'Of you?' asked Amber weakly. 'Of course not,' knowing full well that her answer should be yes, she was afraid—afraid of the feelings he invoked, afraid of the way her pride deserted her at his touch when

  she wanted nothing more than to be gathered into his arms and feel his strength flowing into her.

  `Little liar,' he said thickly. `Do you think I don't know what's on your mind? You want me as much as I want you, but you're scared to give yourself away. My timid little English rose does not want to become involved, so she is denying her love. Do you think that by so doing I will change my mind about marrying you?'

  What answer could she give? How could she say, `Do you love me, and if you do then everything is all right, I will marry you'? It was not a question one asked a man. If he loved her then surely he would tell her. It all came back to the same thing: he had to have some other motive for bringing her here. Love did not enter into it. She was a fool to have allowed herself to become involved in the first place. 'You're like all men,' she said scornfully. `You only pursue what you can't get. Once you've achieved your objective it's all over.'

  He shook her then, saying harshly, `Do not compare me with my English counterpart. If I ask a girl to marry me then I am sincere. If we made love it would make no difference. I should merely be taking what would ultimately be mine by rights.'

  'And how many other girls have you said this to?' Amber wanted to ask, but without giving away Rafika how could she? Instead she satisfied herself by saying, 'The difference in my case being that you haven't asked me to marry you.'

  'Because I knew damn well you'd say no,' he rasped, his fingers unrelenting on her arm, his face thrust aggressively forward. 'Forgive me for saying so, my dearest Amber, but in this instance I know you better

  than you know yourself.'

  The nerve of the man! Amber struggled to escape, but to no avail, his grip only tightened, but his anger appeared to have evaporated, for he was laughing now, a mocking laugh that incensed her even further. `So you know I want to marry you. How interesting! Pray, tell me what else you know about me that I don't know myself?'

  Her sarcasm was not lost on him, but neither did it appear to anger him as she had hoped it might. 'I know all sorts of interesting facts. Perhaps I'll tell you one day, when the time is right.'

  'And what's the matter with now?' asked Amber furiously. 'I object to you talking to me in this way.'

  `Then lower your defences. You might have a pleasant surprise.'

  'And you just might take advantage.'

  'I doubt you'd ever let me do that. Perhaps I was wrong when I likened you to a rose, you're more like a prickly pear.'

  'Good,' snapped Amber, 'then perhaps you won't bother to touch me.'

  'It could be worth the trouble,' he mocked. 'The fruit inside is delicious.'

  'Oh, why do we bother to talk? We always end up arguing.'

  'Only because you obstinately believe I have some ulterior motive,' he said, releasing her now and staring out across the sea where the moon cast its magical path.

  'Have I any reason to think differently?' she asked, rubbing her arms where his fingers had held her, aware of the pain but even more alert to the pain round her

  heart. Was falling in love always like this? If only she knew! If only there was some way of knowing what went on inside Hamed's mind. If only Rafika had not added to her doubts. If—a little word with a wealth of meaning.

  'You could try trusting me,' he said, swinging round so that the moon was behind him and his face in shadow so that she could see no more than his outline.

  She wanted to trust him, desperately, but how could she when she knew otherwise? 'It's not as easy as that. You're different from me, can't you see that, Hamed? Your culture is different from mine. It would never work out.'

  'I disagree.' She could tell from his voice that he was frowning, that her words had upset rather than hurt him. 'I am only half Arab, the other half is as English as you.'

  She knew this, but even so it did not alter the fact that their lives were poles apart. His outlook on life was much broader than her own. She believed in being true to one man, whereas Hamed had had a succession of girl-friends, each receiving his share of devotion and given to understand that they were the only one for him. This was what mattered most, and it was something that Amber could not easily forget, nor forgive. 'Really, Hamed, you have an answer for everything! I see no point in continuing this conversation. It can get us nowhere.' She turned and headed back towards the long rows of olives, which flourished more near to the shore owing to their partiality to sea breezes.

  Their leafy branches dappled the moonlight into intricate patterns across the colourless sand. Amber

  walked swiftly, her head down, blind to where she was going, expecting Hamed to come after her and hurt and surprised when he did not.

  She reached the house and her room without seeing anyone and sank down on to the bed, not realising until then that her limbs were shaking. Each meeting with Hamed left her feeling spent, and she wished there was some way in which she could avoid these clashes. It would not be so bad if she knew where she stood, but her position was so hazy. Hamed wanted to marry her, but he had still not said he loved her; desired her, yes, but that was a very different matter and not one that Amber particularly cared to think about.

  The room felt stuffy and she pushed open her windows, stepping out on to the balcony which overlooked the front of the house. The long winding road leading to the main highway stretched out before her. It was tempting to say the least, but she knew that the walk would be a long one, several miles in fact, and it was doubtful she would get far before she was missed. Besides, she did not really want to go—it was only at times like this when she felt the need to get away, when Hamed had angered her so much that her love was pushed into second place.

  A step behind her caused her to swing round and she frowned when she saw Hamed standing there. 'How dare you enter my room without knocking! Is there no privacy in this place?'

  'I did knock, my dearest heart, but you did not hear, so I took the liberty of entering. Are you admiring our Tunisian landscape by moonlight?'

  Ignoring his question Amber said, 'If you've come

  here to continue our argument you're wasting your time. There's nothing further I wish to say to you.' It was cold, but without pushing past him Amber could not get back into the room, and at this particular moment she had no desire for further physical contact between them. It was the surest way to lose a battle.

  'I came to tell you to be ready early in the morning. We are going out.'

  She could see him waiting for her reaction, his eyes guarded, clearly expecting her to refuse. 'Is that an order?' she asked coolly. 'Would it make any difference if I said I didn't want to go anywhere with you?'

  'Not at all,' he replied. 'I want you to see some more of the country which is to be your home. I suggest you pack a few clothes as we shall be staying overnight.'

  Under different circumstances Amber would have been overjoyed at this prospect, but now she felt nothing but suspicion. Their last trip, when they had gone to Tunis, had ended up with him bringing her here. How did she know that he had not made other more devious plans?

  'You look alarmed,' he continued. 'There is no reason. You will come to no harm, but you will catch cold standing out here without a coat.' He stepped back into the room and Amber followed, unable to control the shivers which ran through her body. Hamed strode to the wardrobe and pulled out a thick woollen cardigan which he thrust into her hands. 'Next time you go out there at night,' he said tersely, 'wrap yourself up. I don't want an invalid on my hands. Be ready at seven sharp.'

  He went then, leaving Amber looking after him in bewilderment. He had not made it sound like a

  pleasure trip and he had not looked as though he would enjoy it either. Why then bother to take her out? Oh, she wished she understood him ! His moods were so contradictory that she never knew where she stood from one meeting to th
e next.

  Lying in bed later she wished she had asked him where they were going. Once she had had time to think about his suggestion she quite looked forward to the trip, not that she would let him know. She intended being as unco-operative as possible if only to teach him that she objected to being bossed about in this manner. An outing planned between the two of them would have been perfect, but his high-handed manner did nothing but arouse her defences.

  At six the next morning Fatima woke her with her breakfast on a tray. 'Orders,' she explained simply when Amber looked at her in surprise. 'I am asked to tell you not to be late.'

  Amber pushed herself up and settled the tray safely on her lap. 'Did Hamed say where we were going?' she asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee which looked good and strong and hot.

  Fatima shook her head. 'Nothing except that you were starting early. Shall I pack your overnight case?'

  'If you wouldn't mind.' Amber bit into a warm flaky roll which she had spread liberally with butter and very sparingly with fig jam. 'Tell me, Fatima, does your master often take days off? I understood from Rafika that he was a very busy man, yet he seems to me to have plenty of spare time.'

  White teeth gleamed as Fatima smiled knowingly. 'For you, miss, the master can always find time, but soon, when the olives are ripe, then you will scarcely

  see him.' She held up a white towelling bikini with a matching jacket. 'I wonder whether you ought to take this?'

  Amber was as wise as the young Arab girl. 'If I knew where we were going I could tell you.'

  'You do not know either?' Fatima looked puzzled for a few moments before she broke into another of her wide smiles. `Ah, I see, it is to be a surprise. Then I will pack it so that you will be prepared for anything.'

  I certainly need to be that, thought Amber. She never knew quite where she stood with this arrogant man who had disrupted her life so completely.

  It was not surprising that as she washed and dressed a knot of apprehension tightened her throat and unsettled her stomach and by seven o'clock she was feeling decidedly nervous. What was in store for her? What surprises did the day hold?

  CHAPTER NINE

  PROMPTLY at the appointed hour Amber went downstairs. As she expected Hamed was ready and waiting, and she could not prevent a quickening of her pulses. He wore a long-sleeved knitted shirt in palest cream and cotton slacks in only a slightly darker shade hugged his hips and muscled thighs. In contrast his skin looked ,darker than ever before and his glowing eyes pierced her own with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

  'Good morning,' he said, coolly eyeing her loose-fitting cotton dress of mint green. 'Why aren't you wearing something I bought for you? Why revert back to your own? Do you not approve of my choice?'

  'Your choice is excellent,' admitted Amber, 'but I feel more at ease in this. I don't feel so much like a—a kept woman.'

  Her choice of phrase displeased him. His eyes narrowed and a pulse beat visibly in his jaw, but he refrained from commenting, merely saying, 'Let's go. My car is ready.'

  The first few miles were covered in silence, the powerful Mercedes effortlessly eating up the distance, hardly feeling the bumps in the dirt track. Out on the main highway they headed south and Amber could not resist asking where they were going, even though she had vowed to herself to show no interest at all in this outing.

  'Our first stop is El Djem to see the Roman amphitheatre. It is a sight you must not miss, and is second only in size to the Colosseum in Rome.'

  This appealed tremendously to Amber, but she refused to give Hamed the satisfaction of knowing it, merely saying politely, 'And then?'

  The heavy brows rose in their characteristic way. 'We will leave that as a surprise. Don't you like surprises, my pretty friend?'

  Amber flashed him an angry glance. His calm, almost insolent tones filling her with rage. 'Not if, it's like the one the other day. That was supposed to be an innocent day trip to Tunis, and look where I ended up!'

  He cast her an oblique glance. 'I am sorry you are still not happy. Perhaps after these next two days, when you see more of what my country has to offer, you will change your mind.'

  'I doubt it,' retorted Amber shortly.

  'As I have said before,' he said impatiently, 'you sometimes do not know your own mind. I have spent many years in England and I agree it is a beautiful country, but it cannot compare with Tunisia. Only here will you find true happiness that comes from beauty and simplicity, plus the refinements I can offer you. In time you will learn to love this country as deeply as I do myself.'

  It was easy for him to talk, thought Amber, this was his home—he had not been brought here against his will. He did not crave freedom, to be able to do what he wanted instead of being told. For how long would he order her about like this? Would it be the same when they were married?—if, she corrected herself

  quickly, angry for having accepted the situation. Was he the type of man who was never happy unless he was giving the orders? What sort of a life would it be? It was not her nature to be subservient. Sometimes it was nice to have someone make a decision for her, but not to the extent which Hamed went. This she could never accept and if he did not change life would be eternal conflict.

  'I'm not disputing the fact that Tunisia is everything you say it is,' she said at length, 'but surely even you must see that there's a difference between being forced to live somewhere and being there of your own free will.'

  'But you will change your way of thinking,' he said with a curious shrug of his shoulders, 'once you have got rid of your animosity.'

  'My animosity is directed at you, not your country,' she flung back. 'You and your ruthless determination to get what you want regardless of consequences!'

  He smiled, still unperturbed. 'When one meets a woman as beautiful and desirable as you, but who is equally determined not to be won, one has to be ruthless. Gentle persuasion would get me nowhere, my dear Amber.'

  'I am not your dear Amber! ' Her golden eyes flashed and two spots of high colour burned in her cheeks. 'Nor am I likely to be if you continued treating me like a—like a child who's not old enough to make up her own mind.'

  'You are nineteen. Many people in my country are married with children by this age. I do not look upon you as a child nor, I hope, do I treat you as one. All that is wrong with you is that you are unsure of yourself. It is perfectly natural under the circumstances, but given time you will adapt.'

  `Ah,' pounced Amber, 'so you do realise what you're doing to me. Perhaps I should be grateful for that !

  The eucalyptus trees lining the road flashed by on either side of them and they passed through villages, the low, flat-roofed white houses hiding the inner courtyards, the minarets of the mosques stretching up towards the sky, but Amber saw none of this. As on her last ride with Hamed the man himself took up all her attention. His easy talk and condescending manner caused her mind to spin in a turmoil. What could have been a pleasant day was again being turned into an unnerving experience.

  'I suggest you forget a little of your aggression,' he said calmly, but with a determined firmness to his jaw. `You could be pleasantly surprised. I certainly do not intend to spend two days with you in this mood. I planned this trip thinking it would give you pleasure and I do not intend that you throw it back in my face.'

  Amber sniffed. 'And if I don't change, what then? Do we go back, or do you think up some other form of torment?'

  His knuckles gleamed white on the wheel—the only sign that he was angry. 'I could drop you off on the side of the road. There are plenty of virile young men who would be eager to take you into their homes. You know from experience what your peaches and cream complexion does to them.'

  'The same, no doubt, as it does to you. You're no better than they are—the only difference being that with your money you can afford to go a different way about it.'

  At that precise moment a dog, followed by a small dirty boy, chose to run across the road in front of them. Hamed jumped on his brake
s, shouting a mouthful of Arabic as he did so. When the boy sat down in the middle of the road cuddling the puppy and apparently oblivious that he had almost got run over, Hamed wrenched open his door and climbed out, unceremoniously picking up the boy, together with the dog, and dumping them down beside the wall of a house. He stood there for a few moments admonishing the child and Amber saw this as a time to escape. She already had her fingers on the handle when she saw the youths on the other side of the road. They must have been standing there all the time, openly admiring her. She knew, without even Hamed's warning, that she would be followed if she so much as attempted to walk down the street.

  But she could not help looking across at the boys when Hamed got back into the car and seeing what had attracted her attention he said tersely, 'You are free to go, if that is what you want.'

  God, she'd rather have a thousand Hameds than on( of those leering youths, but she would not admit this 'I'll stay here,' she said stiffly, but could not resist adding, 'Better the devil you know than the devil you don't know.'

  Conversation between them dwindled after that and Amber tried to concentrate on the surrounding countryside. Between the townships which appeared like oases with their scattering of palms the land was often barren. Miles and miles of plain with only an occasional shrub struggling for survival—and sometimes great ugly ravines.

  Just as she was beginning to wonder when' the journey would end Amber saw in the distance a giant shadow which as they drove nearer was transformed into the amphitheatre standing high above the-town which surrounded it. She sat up, instantly alert, her face brightening for the first time that day.

  Hamed parked the car and together they wandered around the ruin, ignoring the locals who offered to be their guide, and the young girl who begged for, 'lipstick for momma', or 'mascara', touching her eyelashes in a very feminine way for one so young.

  'A lot of the locals have taken stone from here for their homes,' explained Hamed, his hand protectively on her arm. For once it felt warm and comforting and Amber had no desire to pull away. 'But you can see how impressive it used to be. Those three tiers of arcades used to seat thirty thousand people. Can you imagine them all cheering and shouting while some poor Christian prisoner was pulled to pieces by the lions?'