`Gracias.'
`It's a nice word.' She fought to sound casual.
`Ours is a gracious language. You must allow me to teach you how to speak it.'
`Shall I be at El Amara long enough to learn it?'
`Some Spanish and a little Arabic should make you an unusual tea-shop proprietress,' he drawled. 'The good ladies of the seaside resort will flock in for tea and cakes just to hear all about your captivity by a sheik of the desert. You will make a small fortune.'
`As if I'd advertise it ! ' she said indignantly. 'What do you take me for?'
`I have heard that the romantic ladies of small unexciting towns are partial to the belief that southern men have a passion for the fair-haired girls of the cool north.'
`I know differently, senor.'
`You mean the good ladies would not like you to be involved with someone like me?'
`I mean it just isn't true, is it, that southern men are attracted to fair-haired girls. You felt no love for Joyosa.' `She left me cold, chica.'
`Which goes to prove that you respond to dark hair and eyes. I think it's natural for everyone to like those who look and behave like their parents.'
`Which places you in quite a dilemma, my child.'
Janna was lost for a reply, and saved from one, for in that instant there was a bump and a squeal as the car ran into some object on the dark and lonely road. They came to a jolting halt, and Don Raul muttered a less gracious Spanish word. 'I have hit something !'
`Well, don't look at me as if I'm to blame,' she said. 'I'd be quite content to sit and not talk while you drive.'
`Come, let us take a look!'
He swung open the door on his side, reached for the torch and was soon peering under the car to see what they had hit. Janna gave a shocked gasp and backed away from what the torchlight revealed—a jackal, quite dead, and with a smaller animal clamped between its jaws.
`A jerboa.' Don Raul turned to Janna, who stood shivering slightly in his jacket, which reached to her hips and made her look rather helpless.
`I am going to back the car,' he said. 'Step to the roadside and don't look if you are squeamish.'
The poor thing,' she said shakily.
`A jackal preys on whatever it can. A group of them will attack a lonely traveller. It isn't a jolly romping dog, so don't be foolish.'
Tears started to her eyes and she stepped off the road and turned her back on him. She heard the car start up, heard the wheels lurch, and hunched down in his jacket as he drove around the released object and came to a halt beside her.
She climbed in without saying a word and they drove on. `We will make camp very soon,' he said. 'You are hungry, tired, and hating me.'
`You have no feelings.'
`I have them, chica, but not to waste on jackals, or on foolish sulks.'
`I don't want to disturb your driving, so I'll sit quiet. You might run into a camel next time.'
`Sit as quiet as you please,' he chuckled. 'I have plenty to occupy my mind . . . and by the way, Arabs call their women little camels when they are being obstinate.'
`I—I don't like heartless people.'
`I am merely a hungry man who has been driving for a long while and is beginning to feel the strain. Have you no heart, chica?'
At once she felt contrite. The road ahead was dark, and their headlamp on the left side seemed to be dimming. It must have taken a crack when they had hit the jackal .. . which had been on the prey and had killed one of those furry large-eyed jerboas with a snap of its jaws. It was silly of her to act the outraged female with Don Raul, but she hated to see a spider stamped on.
`I am sorry if I appear callous to you,' he said, But I would have been truly regretful if the animal had been a gazelle or a hare.'
`Don't you hunt gazelle?' she asked.
`It has now been forbidden and those graceful, dappled creatures run free. You should be pleased about that, though I admit to hunting wild boar, or the occasional forest panther. Despite all this desert, there are regions where we have cedar forests in which the killer cat roams.'
`I'm certainly glad the gazelle is left in peace,' she murmured.
`You dislike the hunt, eh? Yet love has been likened to the hunting game.'
`There is no cruelty at the end of the . . . chase.'
`There is often unwilling surrender, and that is why I dislike the arranged marriage. Sometimes a couple adjust to the arrangement, but excitement and ardency are missing from their relationship . . . the thrill of looking at someone and knowing you would give up everything to be with that person all your life.'
In the flicker of the overhead light Janna looked at him
and saw a serious profile. He meant every word! As much as El Amara meant to him, and despite his affection for the Princess, he would be prepared to give it all up . . . for the sake of the woman he loved.
All at once the car slowed down and he peered out of the window along the beam of the headlamps. 'I can see some palm trees and a patch of scrub or tamarisk. We will stop here for the night and make a large fire, boil a pot of coffee, cook our supper, and bed down under the stars:'
He swung the safari car off the road and they bumped over the sand towards the group of trees, and the bushes that would provide fuel for their fire.
Janna felt a sense of relief that at last they were stopping, and also a quickening of her pulses. Here she would be entirely alone for the night with a man she was entirely unsure of, a man who could be shatteringly kind and also a little cruel. A man who thrilled her and made everything seem more exciting.
The inscrutable desert lay all around them, and their tamarisk fire scented the air. Groups of stars curved like comets across the indigo velvet of the sky. Everything was disturbing in a most subtle way ... the mingled aromas of smoke and meat, the rustle of the palms, the tall figure who held the frying pan so the chops didn't burn.
Janna still wore his jacket, while he had slung about him with careless ease a burnous of long classic folds, so that in the firelight he looked more than ever a man of the desert.
`The chops are sizzling,' he said. 'If you will break the eggs in that dish and beat them, I will make an omelette.'
`You are very self-sufficient, Don Raul.' She broke the eggs and beat them with a fork. 'I thought the grandson of a Princess would be more used to being waited upon.'
`I was not reared in a pasha environment,' he drawled. `My grandmother saw to it that I was never pampered, and during my youth I attended one of the toughest schools in
England, and I have also served in the Royal Moroccan Army. Did you imagine that I had houris waiting upon me day and night?'
She looked at him and saw the shadows of fire flickering over the lean strength of his face. His wide shoulders carried the burnous with the grace of a man who was supple in the saddle and totally unspoiled by a soft life.
`Not really,' she smiled. 'Did you enjoy being a soldier?'
`Each experience is of importance and adds to one's knowledge of life. I found the British people very interesting. I liked their tolerance, their casual humour, their strange cool courage, and their distinction.'
`You flatter us, senor.'
`Not at all. I never pay a compliment unless I mean it, and that was something I learned also from your people.'
`You learned excellent English. I could never hope to speak such good Spanish.'
`You will surprise yourself, senorita.' He took from her the beaten eggs and tipped them into the pan, where in a moment the omelette began to bubble. The chops lay in a container at the edge of the fire to keep warm, and the air was redolent of the good smell of well-cooked food. Janna could feel her appetite stirring as she sliced bread and laid out the plates and cutlery. It was an exciting new experience for her, to be camping like this beside a tamarisk fire in the heart of the Moroccan desert.
Amazing that only a week ago she had been boxed up in a hotel room, her future in the hands of Mildred Noyes. By a strange stroke of fate she wa
s now experiencing the joy and terror of being entirely in the hands of Raul Cesar Bey.
It amused him to refer to himself as a sheik of the desert, but it was not far from the truth. With the cool audacity of one he had carried her away with him ... and she didn't dare to guess his thoughts as she met his gaze in the firelight and saw that slightly wicked smile at the edge of his bold mouth.
`Hungry?' he asked.
She nodded. 'The food smells appetising '
`Hold out your plate.' She did so and half the omelette was placed upon it, golden and fluffy. Next came one of the crisp lamb chops and gravy. 'Now you may tuck in.'
`Gracias: She smiled shyly to be using that lovely Spanish word for thanks.
`De nada, Niña.' He sat down on the soft sandy ground beside her. 'Which means you are welcome.'
`Mmm, delicious.' She had never eaten anything more tasty than this meal enjoyed beside a fire of crackling branches, with overhead the rustling murmur of palm leaves, and seen through their fronds the jewelled night sky.
`What are you thinking?' Don Raul had taken the edge off his appetite and was giving her a quizzical look. 'That all this is very different from life with Madam Noyes?'
`It couldn't be more different,' she replied, a catch of amusement and wonder in her voice. 'I'm inclined to wonder if I'm dreaming.'
`If you are, Niña, then it is quite a pleasant dream, eh?'
`I can't deny it, senor.' She accepted another cup of Arabian coffee, to which broken sugar was added. It had a rich aroma, a heavenly taste.
`Yesterday you were reserved, tonight you smile. You feel the call of the desert, and there is no other quite so subtle, so filled with a sense of destiny. Look!' He indicated the sky and together they watched as a star fell through the darkness like a silver arrow. 'Destiny weaves the pattern of one's life, and here in the desert at night one is more aware of this than elsewhere. The doors of the heart seem to open to let in the secret of happiness ... which is simplicity, the singing harps of silence in tune with the stars.'
`You speak like a poet, senor.'
`I have in my veins the voice of Andalucia and Arabia.' He held her eyes with his, and she was intensely aware of their depth and magnetism. 'My grandmother is pure Berber and her skin is as milk-white as your own, but the
word Berber springs from barbarian ... did you know that?'
`No, but I can believe it,' she half smiled, disturbed by his nearness in the black folds of his burnous, and by his gaze upon her face and her throat in the opening of his jacket.
`I make you feel shy?'
`I—I'm never sure of what you are thinking.'
`Right now that your fair colouring and your blue eyes make you seem as if dipped in well water, so that a cool freshness clings to you.'
Her cheeks weren't cool as he spoke, and she sought wildly for a less personal topic of conversation. 'Tell me more about your grandmother! She sounds so fascinating.'
`One of the two most intriguing women I have ever met.' He lounged at his ease on one elbow, enjoying the warmth of the fire like a great cat lazily replete after a good meal. `She has known colourful, stormy times, and the tragedy of losing her two sons, one of them to the war in Spain, the other at sea ... my own father. She has always been a great beauty, and like most women she purrs when she gets her own way, and can be terrible if fate works in opposition to her plans. She has the vital will of the frail. A man likes to give in to her, but it isn't always wise to do so. I gave in with regard to Joyosa, knowing in my heart that we were not suited. Now the Princess must give in to me, and it will be a tussle.'
`With me in the middle,' Janna nervously smiled, 'being pulled two ways.'
`She may be delighted with you,' he drawled.
`Which will make things more awkward than ever for you, senor.' Janna's eyes widened, deep blue and startled in the firelight. 'She may expect you ... to marry me.'
`She may indeed, Niña.'
`Whatever will you do? Don Raul, a while ago you talked of being with the woman you loved ... if it meant giving up your heritage!'
`To be with her—whom I love—would be worth any sacrifice. I am a Latin by birth and therefore when I take a wife, I take her for always. For the bedouin life is simpler. He can marry on Monday and divorce on Friday if the woman displeases him. He is not compelled by Moslem law to stay bound to a woman who is miles apart from him in temperament; in everything that can make a marriage an exciting love affair.'
`It is all very perplexing—'
`Poor child.' He took her slim, tense hand in his and fingered the emerald ring. 'So much has happened in just a few days and your mind is spinning. For tonight don't let us talk any more of what lies ahead of you at El Amara. Let Kismet carry you along, for it will regardless of your struggles. It will decide the outcome of what seems so perplexing right now.'
`You mean we must let things take their course? But supposing—'
`Don't worry, chica.' That slightly mocking note came into his voice. 'I know you think of the desert as a place where men enforce their will regardless of a girl's wishes, but most of that takes place only in the novels of Madam Noyes. I promise you that whenever you wish to leave El Amara you will be free to go.'
`No matter what the Princess decrees?'
The Princess is not in charge of your destiny, Janna.' `Are you, Don Raul?'
`In that I take you to my home at El Amara. But you may return my ring and return to England whenever you want to.'
`I thought the decision would be yours, senor:
`Not entirely. A month at the oasis may be more than enough for you, so I am not being the tyrant with regard to how long you stay with my family. You may grow to like us.'
`And if I do?' She awaited his answer with a tenseness she tried not to reveal, jingling the little charms on her
wrist chain, golden trifles that caught the firelight ... and the glance of his dark eyes.
`An English tea-shop should be quite a novelty in the souk of El Amara,' he said casually. 'You could stay and open one there.'
`I suppose I could.' She tried to sound as casual as he, as if she hadn't hoped for a warmer reply. She was a little fool. As if he really cared what she did in the future ... he was only concerned for Rachael and his grandmother. She was to be the bridge that brought them together. The English girl he would discard when he had convinced the autocratic Princess that he could be happy with no one but the woman of his choice ...
`I shall have to think about it, senor.'
`You mean the tea-shop in the souk?'
She smiled. 'I can just see myself serving tea to robed Arabians, clad in a frilly apron and a severe dark dress!'
`A most attractive picture,' he drawled. 'I shall have to come and sample your tea and cakes. Right now you may pour me another cup of coffee, and I would also relish one of those figs.'
She found a plump one, and with a grin that concealed her true feelings she put it to his lips. He opened them and the white, straight line of his teeth closed upon the sweet morsel. All the time he looked at her, his eyes as dark and unfathomable as the desert all around them.
CHAPTER NINE
SILENCE fell between them, and Janna glanced into the surrounding shadows of the desert. Strange vibrations seemed to pulse in the night air, there was a feeling of timelessness, a wild fragrance on the wind. It was a silence broken now and then by a distant yelping, as of jackals on the prowl,
and by the tamarisk fire breaking into flame and sending a shaft of scented smoke and sparks into the air.
The night was full of mystery, of a breathtaking freedom, of an ardency as pure as the stars themselves, way up there and yet giving the illusion of being within reach of one's fingertips.
Don Raul had likened the desert to a woman, and indeed it had the allure of a woman veiled in chiffon and adorned with jewels. 'How peaceful,' Janna murmured. `Yet one senses something primitive, a closeness to the heart of things.'
`It makes a city night seem art
ificial, eh? The neons, the tall buildings, the couples seeking solace in a dimly lit bistro where jazz music drifts from a radio. Man has fashioned a civilisation and made himself discontented.'
`Yet everyone talks of the need for progress,' she said.
`A progress that turns upon itself like a snake and stings its own tail.'
`I can understand why you return so eagerly to the desert, senor.'
`Here one can breathe and hear the silence. There is no din of traffic, no crash of a building falling and another arising in its place.'
`Perhaps we are old-fashioned people, senor.'
`I know that I prefer the freedom of the desert, but the novelty may wear off for you. You are very young, and rather insecure, and in cities people dash past each other, afraid of friendship because it means becoming involved in the hopes and cares of someone else. You are like a kitten among tigers, Janna Smith.'
`A kitten who has become involved with a tiger,' she smiled.
He laughed and it was like a purr deep in his throat. 'Perhaps so, but like a kitten you have a certain shy audacity. Have you noticed how one will climb to a high branch out of curiosity?'
`Meaning?'
`That you dared to come this far with a man like me.' `What kind of a man are you ... really?'
`Are you enquiring into my love life?'
`No—as if I'd do such a thing !'
`You are,' he said wickedly. 'You believe I have a harem tucked away in the house of the pomegranate. Come, admit your fear.'
`Why should I be in fear?'
`If I have a harem, then you may think yourself in danger of becoming a member of it.'
She held her breath and her eyes were fixed upon his face in a half-frightened way. Then he laughed and she could have slapped him for making her almost believe the absurdity. 'You enjoy playing on my naiveté, don't you?' Her cheeks burned. 'Still, anything is possible with a man so unconventional.'
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