by Penny Jordan
As he made his way silently through the camp, his movements as fluid and as soft-footed as a mountain lion, Xander derided himself grimly for the fierce surge of male hunger Katrina had made him feel. His mind might question how he could possibly want such a woman, but his body was questioning even more fiercely how he could resist her.
She affected him as no other woman had ever done, in a thousand and one different ways, every single one of which was unwelcome. There was no place in his life for this kind of situation and no place in his pride for the kind of need she aroused in him.
As he neared El Khalid's tent he forced himself to put Katrina out of his mind and to focus instead on his half-cousin Nazir, and the reason he himself was here. He'd been wondering whether he'd made a dangerous error of judgement. The special agents were doubtful about Nazir's involvement. But Nazir was planning to strike against the Ruler, Xander was convinced of that. It was just a question of how and when.
He had reached El Khalid's tent, and he kept himself concealed in the shadows. A small frown creased his forehead beneath his disguise as he heard the sound of a moving vehicle. A smart four-wheel-drive vehicle swept in from the desert, creating its own personal sandstorm, the vehicle skidding to a sharp halt within a short walk from the rebel leader's group of tents. Xander could hardly believe his own luck as he watched the doors open and two heavily armed guards get out, quickly followed by his half-cousin.
Before they could reach El Khalid's tent the rebel leader himself emerged from it, coming forward to greet Nazir, bowing low in front of him before inviting him into the tent.
So he'd been right after all! This was something the special agents needed to know about, Xander acknowledged, and now! Quietly he began to make his way to their tent.
CHAPTER SIX
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Katrina woke abruptly from the wantonly erotic and symbolic dream she'd been having, in which she had been carried in the folds of a richly hued carpet into the tent of a powerful warrior who'd borne a heart-shaking resemblance to Xander—in the same way that Cleopatra had offered herself to Anthony.
Her face burned as she tried to ignore the sensuality of her dream and the manner in which she had presented herself to Xander, her body clad in diaphanous rainbow-coloured veils so sheer that her body had been openly visible through them. Her nipples had been painted with a soft gold paste, her sex lightly covered in a sheath of the transparent silk that had done far more to enhance its mystery than modestly protect it.
As she had advanced towards Xander her kohl-painted eyes had seen how he had tried not to show any interest in her, and her pink-stained mouth had parted on a small female breath of wanton knowingness when her gaze had slid from his face to his manhood, which had been openly straining against the cloth that had constrained it as his body had given her female power that his facial expression would not.
Her tongue had pressed against her parted lips whilst she had boldly moved closer to him, her whole body heavy with sweet, hot desire for him, and ready for the promise held by the swollen flesh of his manhood.
Not one single word had he spoken to her as she'd reached the raised dais on which he'd been seated, but she had witnessed his swiftly indrawn breath as she'd mounted it without asking his permission. She'd walked proudly towards him instead of humbly awaiting his permission to draw closer to him.
Only once she had reached him had she dropped gracefully to her knees in front of him, the high, taut thrust of her gilded breasts swelling eagerly beneath his hooded gaze as they'd flaunted their eager desire for his touch.
Slowly and deliberately she had reached out towards him, placing her fingertips on his thigh, only a breath away from the thick outline of his penis. When she had exhaled in heady excitement and arousal, she had felt the outer lips of her own sex swell and the small secret place of pleasure within them throb eagerly.
She had lifted her hand to close it over his hardness, but before she had been able to do so he had reached for her, dragging her onto his lap, and holding her there whilst his mouth had fastened fiercely on one gilt-tipped nipple, his tongue tip playing with its quivering hardness whilst his hand had opened her thighs, and pushed away the shimmering veils of silk, so that the eager wetness of her sex had been fully open to his touch.
Her small cry of wanton pleasure had elicited from him an immediate response of triumphant reaction.
Long, deft fingers had parted the enclosing folds of flesh, and when her body had jerked against his touch in mute, hot, sensual delight, his mouth had tugged fiercely on her sensitised nipple so that she had been burning with aching need for him.
His fingers had moved more intimately on her, first one and then another erotically rubbing against the wetness and then probing the innermost heart of her. When she had cried out to him in sweet, hot, eager need, he had spread her thighs wider and taken her mouth in a savagely passionate kiss that had stolen her breath, and with it her reason. The stroking caress of his fingertip against the small, secret nub of flesh that had swelled for his touch had caused her whole body to tighten on the edge of shockingly intense pleasure. She had felt the waves of it radiating out and she had lifted her body against it, wanting more of it, and of him!
She didn't want to remember any more, especially not the very real sensation of being poised on the edge of her own orgasm. Shamefully she still ached with the physical arousal her dream had caused, Katrina recognised, mortified that she should have had such a dream at all, never mind about Xander. She was grateful for her solitude and for the darkness that hid the hot burn of her face. And the hot burn of her body?
She lay rigidly still in the darkness almost afraid to let herself go back to sleep.
In another three hours or so it would be dawn. Xander stood completely still in the silence of the tent. The special agents had agreed that as soon as El Khalid had announced the purpose of Nazir's visit to the men he had gathered around him, they would leave the camp and report their findings to the Ruling Council. Xander's mouth compressed. He had urged them not to delay, but they had remained adamant. They were not prepared to recommend a move against Nazir until they had unassailable proof that he meant to harm Zuran's Ruler.
From inside the sleeping area of the tent he could hear the soft little sound Katrina made in her sleep. Katrina… His wife… But another man's woman? Probably more than just one other man's woman! A primitive, all-male feeling of mingled anger and jealousy ripped through him. He took a step towards the sleeping area, and then froze. What he was feeling was merely a shimmering mirage, he told himself fiercely. It had no reality to it, and if he ignored it and refused to acknowledge it or give it room in his heart or head then it would disappear. And so too would the urgent, hungry stirring of his body.
Katrina woke up briefly and muzzily at the sound of the morning calls to prayer, but the events of the previous day had taken their toll, and sleep was claiming her again before she could stop it.
Xander on the other hand was already awake, tension coiling his body like a tightly wound spring. As soon as the call to morning prayers had died away, news swept through the camp, like dust carried on the desert wind, that El Khalid had had an important visitor. An immediate meeting had been called to discuss his visit with his men.
Like the other men, Xander made his way to the open area in front of El Khalid's tent, taking care to position himself close to the three disguised special agents, but not directly with them. He was pretty sure that at least two of the men now stationed outside El Khalid's tent were in reality Nazir's personal guards and he suspected they would have been instructed to report back to their master if they saw anything they considered suspicious or not in Nazir's best interests.
El Khalid's speech to them was brief and to the point. He and his men were being hired to infiltrate the National Day celebrations in Zuran and cause civil unrest.
'No mention was made of any attempt to harm your brother,' one of the agents pointed out sharply to Xander when the meeting
was over.
'Nazir will not entrust anyone else to assassinate my brother. He will kill him himself under cover of the rioting El Khalid will cause. Officially he will be out of the country, we already know this. There is no doubt in my mind that this is what he plans to do,' Xander told the agents grimly. 'My guess is that he will disguise himself as one of El Khalid's men, and strike when my brother makes his traditional walk amongst his people.'
'We have no proof that this is what he plans to do,' one of the agents objected.
'Are you prepared to take the risk that I am wrong?' Xander challenged him. 'The life of the Ruler is more important.'
There was a small silence and then another member of the trio said firmly, 'We are leaving now to make our report. As soon as we are out of radio range from the camp we shall phone for a helicopter to pick us up. Our report will be delivered to the Ruling Council within a matter of hours. We shall recommend that an armed force be dispatched here to this camp immediately to surround it and take everyone here into custody. If you are correct then that will surely include Nazir.'
Xander knew that this was as much as he could hope for, and that it was as pointless chivvying the agents as it was to beg his half-brother to think of his own safety and to cancel his traditional public walkabout on Zuran's National Day.
The sun was warming the desert as he strode back through the camp, the smell of cooking food filling the air.
It was the scent of freshly brewing coffee that woke Katrina from her heavy sleep. For a few precious seconds between waking and remembering she basked lazily in the comfort of her bed and the delicious coffee smell, and then abruptly reality returned with menacing darkness.
She was not just a prisoner; she was also now married to her captor! She looked down at her wrist. She was bound now to Xander. She sat up in the bed, feeling slightly sick and dizzy.
As always she listened edgily for any sounds that would indicate where Xander was before sliding out of the bed and hurrying into the small bathroom. Once there she showered quickly, her face suddenly suffused with hot colour as she felt the unfamiliar sensitivity of her breasts when she soaped her skin. Last night might only have been a dream but it had still left as much of an actual physical memory with her body as if Xander had really made love to her.
It was a relief to dry herself and pull on her clothes so that she no longer had to see the openly eager, swollen thrust of her own nipples.
Two minutes later she was standing beside the curtain that separated the areas of the tent from one another. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly whilst reminding herself of just what Xander was. He was not the man her vulnerable heart longed for him to be. Far from it. That man was simply a creation of her own foolish emotions.
Determinedly she pulled back the curtain and stepped into the outer area. Xander was standing several feet away watching her. A bloom of delicate pink colour washed tellingly over her face as she battled to meet his gaze and failed.
This man was her husband; she was joined to him now and that joining was surely in its own way just as intimate as if he had taken her in his arms last night and to his bed. A tremor like that of a young gazelle shivered through her.
Watching her, Xander acknowledged grimly that the blush staining her skin and her modestly downcast look were everything that an old-fashioned husband might expect from a new bride on the first morning of her marriage. And no doubt had they been such a couple, having witnessed her self-conscious modesty he would have gone immediately to her and swept her into his arms, taking her back to the bed they had so recently shared to show her fresh delights and pleasures.
But of course they were no such thing.
Whilst he removed the long scarf of indigo-coloured cloth that acted both as his means of disguise and proclaimed him as Tuareg, a bitter, almost cruel smile hardened his mouth. Katrina was as far removed from an innocent shy bride as it was possible to get. How many other lovers had there been before the cowardly fool who had abandoned her in order to save himself? He could feel his ancestry and upbringing battling against the European blood of his mother.
How could he ever hope to find a woman who could both accept and understand both opposing sides of him, and at the same time appeal to both of them in a way that made him feel he needed and loved her so much that he could not bear to live without her? How indeed! He already knew that he could not. And right now he was more than happy to live his life without a woman. After all he had far more important things to worry about.
'There was a lot of noise and excitement a little while ago,' Katrina announced, bravely trying to act as though everything was normal, and not in any way as though she was acutely conscious of the fact that last night they had been married and she was now in the eyes of those who had witnessed that marriage Xander's wife, but also his possession!
'No more than normal,' Xander lied coolly, before adding tauntingly, 'What were you hoping? That your lover had come to rescue you?'
Angry colour flamed up under her skin. 'I was simply trying to make conversation,' she informed him sharply.
'I've brought you this,' Xander said, ignoring both her comment and her anger as he produced one of the all-enveloping black garments worn by women in public.
'In future you will not leave the tent unless you are wearing it.'
Katrina's eyes rounded both with shock and disbelief.
'I will do no such thing!' she refused immediately.
'You will not leave this tent unless you are wearing the robes,' Xander repeated before adding ominously, 'And if you do not agree to do so, then you will leave me with no choice other than to take steps to ensure your compliance.'
'By doing what?' Katrina challenged him fiercely. 'By dressing me in it yourself?'
'No,' he answered her evenly. 'If you do not agree, then I shall simply make sure that you are not able to leave the tent. If necessary by tethering you inside it in the same way that a goat herder might fetter his goats.'
Katrina could hardly believe her ears as she recoiled from the primitiveness of his threat.
She couldn't trust herself to speak, so instead she let her body language voice her outrage and fury to him as she looked coldly past him.
'It is time for us to eat. Pick it up and put it on,' Xander ordered her calmly.
'I will not wear it,' she told him stubbornly. 'It smells of another woman's perfume,' she added angrily.
Xander made no response. He'd had to haggle hard and pay way over what it was worth in order to persuade one of El Khalid's women to part with the garment. His own keen nose acknowledged that the heaviness of the other woman's perfume did cling to the fabric, but he had to make sure that Katrina took his threat seriously—for her own sake as much as anything else. If Nazir was going to return to the camp as Xander suspected he would, then he did not want his half-cousin to see Katrina and wonder suspiciously what a European woman was doing here. If he thought that Katrina posed the slightest degree of risk to him, Nazir would kill her, without any qualms whatsoever. Xander had no doubt about that, and so for her own sake she had to be protected. As the wife of a Tuareg tribesman wearing the robes she would not arouse Nazir's suspicions in the way a European woman would.
'You must wear it for your own safety,' he told her quietly.
The unexpectedness of something that could almost have been genuine concern for her in his voice caught and held Katrina's attention. Was there a warmer, caring side to his nature after all?
'Because of Sulimen?' she guessed, unable to hide her fear.
Immediately Xander took a step towards her, as though he wanted to reassure her. 'Have no fear, he shall not harm you. I shall see to that, but it will be expected by the women that you will dress as they do and by the men that you dress as my wife. Truly it is for your own protection that you must dress traditionally.'
Instinctively she knew that he was speaking the truth. Yet again, she could feel herself reacting to his compassion. And to him! More to give herself some
thing to do than for any other reason, she picked up the black garment and pulled it on, grimacing a little as she did so, unable to stop herself from wrinkling her nose against its strong scent.
Quickly Xander shielded his eyes from her, not wanting her to read in his expression how relieved he was not to be tormented by the subtle natural scent of her own body and the far too powerful and dangerous effect it had on him whenever he was close enough to her to breathe it in.
It took Katrina several minutes to settle the all-encompassing folds of the robes—made quite obviously for someone much larger than she was herself—comfortably around her own slender person. During which time, Xander strode past her and into the bedroom, emerging almost immediately carrying a sheet.
Uncomprehendingly Katrina watched as he unfolded it, and then deliberately squeezed it in his powerful hands to crumple it a little before unsheathing his dagger, pushing up the sleeve of his robe and making a small cut on the inside of his arm, which immediately began to bleed.
Balling up the centre of the sheet, he held it against the cut.
'What are you doing?' she asked him in bewilderment.
'As El Khalid's mother reminded me when I bartered with her cousin for the robe, it is a tribal custom amongst the nomad population that a blood-stained sheet is produced on the morning after a young woman is married as proof of her virginity. Your failure to be declared a virgin bride will dishonour both you as my wife and me as your husband.'
Katrina was outraged beyond words and could only stare at him in white-faced revulsion.
After what Xander had just told her, the last thing she felt able to do was to show herself in public!