FICTION: SEQUEL TO PRIDE AND AUDACITY

Crossing the Chasm — Part 4

She needed a savior — but the devil would have to do

NOTICE: Crossing the Chasm is book 2 of the Sheiks of Ahalamin series. While it reads well on its own, it is better appreciated if book one (Pride and Audacity) has been read first. The main characters of Crossing the Chasm first meet in Pride and Audacity and knowing their history will enhance your reading pleasure.

Jessica washed and dressed in the clothes left for her by Califar. The luxurious smell of almond-scented soap and the clean, crisp texture of the cotton blouse, in a small way, made her feel less like a victim.

She slid the tip of her tongue over her clean teeth and savored the pristine smoothness. The comforting familiarity of mint-flavored toothpaste impressed her as both trivial, and monumental. With the shampoo and small jar of water available, she’d managed to remove ten days of sweat and grime from her hair. Without conditioner, she now faced the inevitable tangles that plagued victims with naturally curly hair. Sitting cross-legged on the small cot, she picked up the brush and began to work the knots from her hair. In the morning’s heat, the strands dried quickly, shaping themselves into swirling copper ringlets.

The ordinary task relaxed her body, but her thoughts raced in circles with the speed of a supercollider. The panic she’d felt on awakening and finding herself alone, convinced of Califar’s abandonment, still upset her. But she could feel some of her usual tenacity returning, a trait that she’d used to equal the odds on many tough occasions in the past.

Reason and circumstance told her he wouldn’t bother to come for her and then just walk away. If he did, who could blame him? A man of his pride and position would not be pleased to have a crybaby-woman clinging like an extra appendage to his leg. She cringed with the return of the humiliating memory.

The object of her thoughts broke through the door as if it were a barricade. Startled, she stiffened and studied the man blocking the light as he filled the cramped entryway. He lingered, as if having entered by mistake, and glared at her with intense displeasure. Could she look as bad as his scowl indicated? She measured his steps as he shut the door and advanced toward her.

“You are looking improved. How do you feel?”

His words were solicitous enough; however, the tone had an edge of reckoning. The man was a walking contradiction, an illogical puzzle, and a source of pending disaster. Not knowing how he intended to affect her life, she could only hope he had a merciful gene somewhere in his DNA.

“Better, thanks for the clothes and things,” she managed to answer with clarity.

“It is Prince Davar you should thank. He is responsible for the arrangements. The Princess provided the personal items, of course.”

“Am I to thank you for nothing, then?”

He cocked an eyebrow, and with an exasperated shake of his head, accented his words with undisguised mockery.

“Believe me, Miss Heathly, as the day progresses you will not be so eager to thank me for my intervention.”

The man was a sinkhole of complexity and one she was tired of falling into. “Look, I was just trying to show some gratitude. As I’m sure my conduct last night revealed; I’m not exactly a tower of unshakable nerve right now. In truth, I’m terrified and want out of this place as quickly as possible. I’d thank the devil himself if he could accomplish that. No comparison intended,” she added.

His scowl deepened the lines around his eyes as his mouth curved with a diabolical sneer. “I believe you Americans have a saying; better the devil you know…”

Thrown off balance by the heightened degree of antagonism, Jessica stood and circled the cot to stand on the other side. “I don’t want to expend my energy in verbal combat with you.”

“But you cannot help yourself, can you? Your contentious nature has always made it so between us.” He glared at her, frowning.

“Can’t you, for once, talk to me without your ever-present disapproval? I need to know what is going to happen next. How do I get out of here?” A scream of frustration threatened to rise in her throat.

Califar pivoted and walked across the room. He easily slipped out of his outer robe and headpiece, laying them neatly across a small chest against the far wall. She didn’t know why he was taking so long to answer her question, but she’d give him another minute or two, just for the sake of peace.

With his back to her, she took advantage of the unobserved moment to study him. Less than ten hours ago, she’d been exposed to his half-naked perfection; and now, he was just as devastating. Fitted, black pants tucked into calf-high boots emphasized the muscular thickness of his powerful legs. His loose-fitting tunic did nothing to disguise the solid strength of shoulders, too perfect for any woman’s peace of mind. She judged him to be in his early 40’s, certainly a man in his prime. With his swarthy skin, exotic dark eyes, and hair, he embodied the dangers indicative of darkness and the unknown. Yet, there was magnetism, a gravity of sorts about him. Her fanciful mind had often thought that, should she weaken for even a moment, she would be drawn into his orbit never to escape.

He turned and centered the full impact of his authoritative stare on her. She could almost feel the rasp of his gaze as it lingered on her mouth. He was probably wondering how best to gag her. His controlled, almost friendly voice sent warning shivers up her spine.

“The camp’s leader has consented to your release. The final negotiations are to conclude later this evening. If everything goes as planned, I will remove you from this place.”

Jessica shook with elation and hope. She could taste the sweet satisfaction of freedom. Relief weakened her knees. Staggering to the cot, she sat and folded her arms around her middle. With her head thrown back, she squeezed her eyes shut and dreamed of home.

“Do not celebrate too quickly.”

The pragmatic words burst her euphoric bubble. Could the man not allow her even a moment’s reprieve?

“You said I was free.”

“I did not use the term free. I said you were to be released to me if the final deal was completed.”

“Why are you nit-picking words? Let’s just do whatever they want and get out of here.”

“As usual, you rush in without thought of consequence. You have not asked what will be required of you. I assure you, the price may be more than you are willing to pay.”

“I’ve been kept tied in a sweltering tent for ten days, given only enough food and water to keep me alive and threatened at every turn.” She paused and swallowed the scream she wanted to vent. “I was forced to witness the execution of the three people who were abducted with me, two men, and a young woman. Every minute of every hour since then, I’ve waited to be next.” She lifted her chin and pierced him with an unapologetic glare. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to get out of this place.”

He didn’t flinch under her onslaught of words. To the contrary, he seemed intent on testing the full extent of her resolve.

“Are you absolutely sure? No matter the cost, you are willing to pay it, without question?”

Sick of his grilling, she shouted her answer at him.

“Yes!”

He turned from her and began to pace the ten or twelve feet from one side of the room to the other. Now what, she wondered? He was making her nerves sizzle with tension. Maybe she should have dug a little deeper before jumping off the deep end, as he’d implied. Did it really matter? Her only way out was through him. He probably thought she was too weak to stand up to whatever was ahead. Well, he was wrong. She jumped up from the cot and positioned herself in his path.

His stature topped her 5' 8" height by at least six inches. Halting his stride, he stared down at her, a questioning frown crinkling the sides of his eyes. She launched forth her testimonial before he could sidestep her roadblock.

“Look, I promise I can handle any situation that will get us out of here alive. There is no need to worry about me. I’m not scared anymore, just tell me what comes next and I’ll do it.”

He sucked in a deep, slow breath, unclenched his fists, and spoke to her in a gentle voice that did more to erode her resolve than his anger.

“You will have to be completely obedient to my wishes without question or argument. You need to put your very life into my hands. Can you do those things?”

“Yes.”

Two strong hands cupped her cheeks. Fire-raising sparks ignited throughout her body. He lifted her face, exposing her to his interrogating eyes.

“I will ask you one last time. Be very sure of your answer. There will be no going back, only forward. Do you consent to be one with me?”

That was an odd way of putting it, she thought. Hadn’t she just agreed to unequivocal cooperation? He confounded her at every turn. In fact, he was adding to her fear with all this unnecessary drama. It wasn’t as if he’d be forever responsible for her.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit overdramatic? Look, if it will help, I’ll add an oath.” Placing her right hand over her heart, she added. “I solemnly vow to everything. As for being one with you, for what it’s worth, you’ve got it! Okay? I’m yours to command. Lead on.”

“You consider our agreement to be sealed?”

The word sealed coming from his tightened lips sounded like an oath of his own. She wanted to put some distance between them and end his enigmatic questions. Attempting to break contact with him, she tried removing his hands from her face, but he would not allow it.

“You are the hardest man on earth to agree with. Consider my capitulation signed, sealed, and delivered. Good gosh! What more do you want?”

The change in his manner was instant as he removed his hands from her. In a blink-of-an-eye, he changed from interrogator to commander.

“You will be thoroughly sure of my wants sooner than you think. Now, I suggest you take the opportunity to rest. I will return for you shortly and we will complete this union.”

In another minute, he was gone. An overwhelming sense of fatigue convinced her to follow his suggestion. She dozed fitfully until awakened by his return.

He handed her a clean robe and head covering and instructed her to put them on. “Follow behind me and do not speak unless I indicate that you should. Keep your eyes lowered and obey my every command. Do you understand?”

She knew the protocol well. After all, her best friend was married to Califar’s boss, the Prince of Ahalamin. When visiting Victoria, she’d dutifully complied with Ahalamin’s archaic restrictions for women. Sacrificing her dignity was painful but not death-dealing, she could handle the situation for a while longer. In the future, Victoria would have to visit her, because there was no way she was stepping foot anywhere in the Middle East again.

“Yes, I understand. Where are we going?”

“We will be attending a meeting together.”

“What kind of meeting?” Jessica spoke cautiously as she tucked a stray curl under the edge of the headcloth.

His stern glance accused. “Earlier today, did you not vow to obey me without question?”

“Yes, but…” She stopped as his raised eyebrow foreshadowed a forthcoming reprimand. She could keep her mouth shut a little longer if it would hurry the process of securing her freedom.

He nodded his acceptance of her compliance and then added. “This meeting will complete the negotiations for your release. You will follow a few feet behind me, sit where I instruct, and do whatever I tell you without hesitation. You will not speak to anyone unless I indicate that you should. Do you understand these requests?”

Requests? More like a directive without room for a reply. “Yes, I understand.” Her voice cracked with growing anxiety brought on by his terse words.

They exited the hut and walked only a few yards toward a campfire surround by at least twenty men, all sitting cross-legged on the hard ground. The men never stared at her openly, but she could sense their furtive glances. Then one of them rose and greeted Califar with a smile that held a measure of malice. Whoever he was, he didn’t show the same reticence as the others, his eyes rested on her quite openly as he spoke to Califar. Of course, she was careful not to make eye contact with him, keeping her gaze lowered only enough to skim past the required protocol for women in this part of the world.

After enduring at least an hour of silence while she listened to the men converse in their foreign dialect, her temper sizzled. If she wasn’t still terrified of these men, she’d kill the one standing in front of her.

The little skit he was involving her in made no sense at all, unless, he was deliberately tormenting her. This could not have anything to do with hostage negotiations. Irked at having no other choice, she forced herself to do as he asked. She took the bowl of rice from his hands, and as instructed, offered him a portion with her fingers. Was he actually smiling? The thought skittered by as he took the bite of rice into his mouth, wetting her fingers with his tongue.

Her stomach clenched from the intimacy of the small act, while at the same time, the subservient gesture kicked her pride in the dirt.

Next, he took a gauzy swatch of fabric, placed it over her face just below her eyes, and fastened it to both sides of the headcloth, successfully veiling her. He looked deeply into her eyes, his gaze a mixture of flaming arousal and request for forgiveness. A new kind of fear shattered her thoughts. Something wasn’t right or, at least, not as she’d expected. An icy dread spread through her stomach. She wondered what he would do next when he lifted his right hand and gestured someone forward.

“Go with these women. They will return you to our quarters.”

She went, unresisting, glad to be away from what she now believed to be a remnant of escapees from a desert mental camp, including her supposed savior. When the two women escorting her actually giggled as they pushed her through the door of the hut, she was sure.

She jerked to a halt just inside the room and blinked in confusion, a state of mind fast becoming permanent. Someone had changed the furnishings if that was what you could call them. The cot was gone, replaced with a larger mattress of sorts, and covered with a red and yellow striped blanket. Two jugs of water sat on a low table accompanied by bread, cheese, dates, figs, and pomegranates.

She yanked the veil from her face and stripped off the robe and head covering, dropping them in a heap by the door.

The hut recently swept clean, reeked with the spicy smell of incense. An emerald-colored cloth lay on the brightly covered mattress. Lifting it, she marveled at the fabric’s rich color and light, airy softness. Realizing she held a woman’s garment, she let it unfold and drop to its full length.

A numbing chill crept across her skin. The simple shift was too transparent for anything but sleeping. Her ears started to ring. Not the garment a woman would choose for sleeping, but definitely one that a man would choose for her.

The door creaked as it opened behind her. Swinging around, she faced Califar. Never had he seemed more alien, or more dangerous. With one eyebrow cocked and the corner of his mouth tilted in a derisive smirk, he looked like the desert warlord on the cover of the romance novel she’d read on her trip to Ahalamin. With a sweep of his hand, he indicated the room’s change.

“You have nothing more to fear from these men. They now have what they want. You will be leaving for Ahalamin in two days.”

“But, I don’t want to go to Ahalamin. I…I want to go home, back to the States.” A trickle of apprehension crept through her.

There were sympathy and mockery in his expression. “While I secured your release, you did not achieve the kind of freedom you’re accustomed to.”

“Wha…What do you mean? If they’re going to let me go, then I must be free. Is there something else, something you’re not telling me?”

Califar’s angry eyes scorned her. “Their leader had something to prove. It wasn’t enough to extract a ransom, he wanted to humiliate me, as well.”

Jessica was horrified. “What do you mean? What happened to you?”

Califar sneered as he tore his headpiece off and tossed it across a nearby stool. “You are what happened. The ceremony you just completed was a claiming ritual, minus the usual three days of feasting, but nevertheless, lawfully binding by religious and tribal law.”

He stepped further into the room. She could read the clear, purposeful intent in his eyes. Somehow, his status had changed, and he fully intended her to know it.

She retreated to stand by the small table, resting her hand on it for support. “You’re not making any sense. What is a claiming, whatever?”

“It’s exactly what it says. It establishes a man’s right of ownership.” His gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth and then dropped to her breasts, leaving a heated trail along her skin.

Jessica’s stomach rolled as an ugly premonition took shape in her mind.

“Ownership o…of what?”

“The woman he’s just taken as a wife, of course. You now belong to me by the standards of both my religion and culture, two things I take seriously and do not intend to dishonor. As your owner, I require you to do the same. Tonight, we begin a new life.”

She clenched her teeth and stared, waiting for him to laugh at this bad joke. He stood immobile. She threw her hands over her eyes and pressed as if to squeeze the man standing in front of her from her sight. It didn’t work, he was still there when she lowered her hands.

One thing she knew for certain about Califar Cadin, he would never make a joke of himself or his way of life.

Shocked by the possessive heat rising in his eyes, she did the only thing a Texas girl could. Stringing out her brother’s considerable catalog of four-letter words, she picked up the fruit tray and heaved it toward his head.

Califar deflected the tray with his right arm. The fruit and bread scattered, spattering over his white robe.

She froze as he closed the space between them, her heart beating so hard she felt dizzy. When he grasped both her shoulders and yanked her tightly against his hard body, she was as powerless as the helpless fictional heroines she so pitied.

Her head snapped back as he forced it upward, positioning her for the furious impact of his lips. She pressed hers tightly shut. For the briefest second, he stiffened, as if to withdraw. Then he unleashed a sensual onslaught, forcing her to allow him entry. Caught between the pressure of his hand at the back of her neck and his marauding mouth, she could only hang on and ride out the storm.

He conquered her mouth until there was no territory left untouched, then trailed searing, wet kisses down her neck. She felt the pulling sensation as he filled both hands with her hair and turned her face to his. The black eyes challenging her blazed with the confidence of a dominant, virile male.

“You kiss too hard. You hurt me.” What was supposed to be a scathing rebuke came out as a whimper.

He moved his hands to her shoulders, giving them a shake. “Continue to defy or disrespect me and you will experience the same. It is your choice.”

She’d always known she couldn’t control him as she was used to doing with the men in her life. His unyielding arrogance had needled and intimidated her. So, in reprisal, she’d taken every safe occasion to annoy, push, and test his limits, never supposing there could ever be a day of reckoning. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Only an idiot taunted an untamed animal. She was shaking. More accurately, she was being shaken.

“Never, will you repeat such an action. I am stronger in every way than you. No longer will I tolerate your temper, your unconstrained tongue, or any other disrespect. Do you understand?”

His words hammered and shaped her future, like steel hammered on an anvil, sending more tremors through her body.

Lost for words, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t want this. I want to go home. Just let me go home.”

Califar removed his hands from her shoulders, leaving her to stand unaided on her own. He inhaled a deep breath. “A wife wants what her husband wants, and your home is now with me. You will learn to accept this. What has been done…cannot be undone.”

“It can if you want it to,” she argued. “When we get back, you can divorce me. I know how it’s done in your country. Send me home, renounce me. Just a few words from you and this mess is ended.”

Califar turned from her and walked to the table where he poured two cups of water. Handing one to Jessica, he gave her his reply.

“There will be no divorce.”

She gripped the cup, resisting the urge to toss the water in his stubborn face.

“Fine. If you don’t want to do it, then I will.”

Suddenly, a new thought took shape. “What am I saying? I don’t have to do anything. This whole claiming thing isn’t legal where I come from. As soon as I get back to America, you’re as good as history.”

Califar sipped his water and stared at her over the rim of the cup. A half-smile accompanied his serious voice.

“My wife does not travel without me. And, since I have no plans for us to visit your country in the near future, I don’t believe it will be possible for you to make me, history, as you term it.”

“Vitoria will help me. She’s your boss’ wife. She’ll make you send me home, or get the Prince to make you.”

His expression mocked her as did his words. “Princess Victoria does not rule Ahalamin, nor does she rule the Prince of Ahalamin.”

Jessica’s heart sank with the truth of his statement.

“You’re despicable. You’re no better than a…than a white slaver.” She stuttered in exasperation.

“Silence!” Califar tossed the remaining water to the floor and slammed his cup on the table. “One more word and I will teach you more about white slavery than you ever wanted to know.”

Jessica could see the valid intent stamped across his face. It was time to retreat and regroup. She tightened her lips until they puckered.

Califar nodded, satisfied. “I suggest you take this opportunity to eat and drink; your antibiotics are in the travel case. I will take a short walk to afford you some privacy. Make good use of it.”

With those short commands, he was gone. She did as he suggested and took two more antibiotics. Surveying the scattered contents of the food tray, she opted for the bread and fruit scattered on the bed. At least, they were still clean. Her anxiety-dulled appetite prohibited anything other than a few bites of bread and a little water.

Resuming her cross-legged position in the middle of the mattress, she waited. Whatever Califar had in mind for this claiming thing, she was not jumping out of the cake for his satisfaction. Nor was she modeling the gauzy nightwear.

To be continued…

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