Fiction: Sequel to Pride and Audacity
Crossing the Chasm — Part 6
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.
Califar allowed Jessica’s small hand to hold his captive. The words pitiably whispered against his skin both elated and shamed him. She lay in complete submission, rendered such by his dominance and her inability to deny her body’s response to his. But there was more. He’d seen the undeniable evidence in her unguarded eyes, the fear, and uncertainty of a woman whose heart and body were not accustomed to accommodating a man’s needs — a virginal wife. He’d not expected to find her so. The knowledge warmed his soul and scalded his conscience.
He rose to stand, bringing her up with him. She didn’t look at him but kept her face lowered. That, more than anything else, hurt him. Even in the face of death at the hands of terrorists, she’d not done so. He gently drew her to him, wrapped her in his arms, pressed her head to his chest, and murmured soothingly, “All will be well.”
She said nothing, but he could feel her body lean into him as her muscles began to relax. He wanted to give her more time, but their circumstance didn’t afford either of them such luxury. He stepped back from her, keeping hold of her arms until he was sure she could stand on her own. She didn’t look at him, but at least her head wasn’t bowed. Tears clung to her cheeks. He cupped her face with his hands and softly wiped them away with his thumbs.
“We need to move on. I’ll finish checking the truck while you join the children. I’m sure they’re in need of your comfort.”
A blessed spark of life returned to her expression at the mention of the children. She lifted her eyes to his and nodded, then turned and walked toward the cab.
Prince Rashid Davar sought to soothe his wife’s anxiety, his third attempt in the last two hours.
“Victoria, Jessica, and Califar are both well and safely returned to Ahalamin. They’ve entered the palace complex and by now, are in Califar’s residence. We will not disturb them.”
“But, I want to see Jessica for myself,” argued Victoria.
“I understand your concern; however, Califar has requested that their privacy be maintained — for now. I will see him tomorrow and will let you know when you can visit Jessica.”
Times like these tested Victoria’s patience and acceptance of her husband’s culture. All she wanted to do was see for herself that Jessica was unharmed. Besides, Jessica needed the comfort of another woman, especially her best friend.
“I don’t want to wait and I’m sure Jessica wants me there,” she said, her small fists clenched at her side.
Rashid sighed and reached for his distraught wife, who sidestepped his attempt to embrace her.
“Don’t try to distract me.” Her voice rose in frustration.
Before she could retreat further, he stepped forward and clasped her body tightly to his. “Why do you tire yourself so? Your stubbornness will not change Califar’s wishes. Jessica is now his wife and you need to respect that. I’m sure he will allow you access to her as soon as he thinks it best.”
Victoria squirmed, pushing against his chest. “MEN! Pigheaded dictators…I hate…”
Crushing her to him, he took her mouth with demanding mastery, cutting off her breath. She fought him like a tigress. With a hand clamped to the back of her head, and one under her knees, he lifted her, not allowing her to break the kiss. He stalked to the bed and tossed her in the middle of the red satin coverlet. She scrambled to a sitting position, her eyes round and wary.
“Don’t get off that bed until you’ve cooled your temper and tongue.”
He left her there, slamming the door as he went. Not so much from anger, as to how easily the foul-tempered temptress could torch his control, no matter how hard he tried to make it otherwise. Nothing had changed in the past year, it seemed. He swore and slammed his hand against the wall beside the door. Would he ever get control of this woman?
He spent the afternoon in the stables, helping to exercise and groom several of the many stallions bred for speed and endurance. The hard physical activity helped drain his anger but left him with a simmering need that kept his mind returning to his wife.
Victoria, freshly showered and dressed for bed, sat propped against the pillows holding her infant son, who screamed in hungry frustration that his mother was not feeding him as quickly as he wanted. Just like his father, she thought. She was about to open her gown when Rashid walked into the room, a towel wrapped around his hips, the rest of his bare skin glowing from a hot shower.
Intimacy with this man had never become commonplace. There was always an element of danger, not of harm, but of the unexpected. His untamed exotic nature thrilled and intimidated her at the same time. A sudden overwhelming shyness prevented her from baring her breast for nursing.
“Is there something wrong with the baby?” Rashid stood beside the bed looking at his child with concern.
“N…no,” Victoria stammered, heat pooling in her cheeks. “He’s just a little impatient to eat.”
The bed dipped with Rashid’s weight as he sat beside her and stroked his son’s cheek. “Your mother seems a bit distracted, little one. Should I help her, do you think?”
Victoria jerked her head up, instantly captured by his mocking grin and smoldering eyes. She didn’t move a muscle as his fingers reached for the bodice of her gown, slowly opening the tiny row of buttons, one-by-one, his eyes dropping to where his fingers loosened the last button at her waist.
“Which side?”
His words intensified the embarrassment shortening her breath to small gasps. “Wh…what?”
“Which breast are you going to nurse him from?”
Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, raspy and dry. “The left side.”
Rashid slipped his hand through the bodice opening, letting his fingers graze across her swollen breast as he opened the gown, exposing her to his eyes. His toast-brown fingers gentle against her cream-colored skin.
He looked at her, a knowing grin lifted the sides of his mouth. “If you don’t feed him soon, he’s going to rouse the entire palace.”
Victoria fell back to earth in a shocking jolt of reality and quickly lifted her wailing son to her breast. He latched on immediately, sucking greedily between whimpers of residual outrage.
She forced her breathing into a slower rhythm, not wanting her highly charged nerves to cause her baby stress. Rashid watched his son for a moment more, then left her in blessed peace to take a seat in one of the chairs a few feet away. She kept her mind occupied by talking baby-talk to Azziz.
Thirty minutes passed, Azziz, full and satisfied, slept in her arms. She needed to buzz his nurse to move him to the nursery, but, she was reluctant to lose her shield, tiny though he was.
A quick glance in Rashid’s direction sent her pulse rate soaring. He’d been watching her the whole time. If he were a lion, she would definitely be on his dinner menu. His eyes assessed her boldly, promisingly.
The sound of his voice cut through her pretense.
“Call for the nurse.”
She reached for the buzzer beside the bed. Within a few minutes, the nurse entered the room, tactfully avoiding looking in Rashid’s direction, and removed Azziz to the comfort of his bed.
She was alone with him. The very air seemed electrified. She reached to refasten the buttons of her gown.
“Don’t.”
Her hand froze.
“Leave it open and come here.”
The command was a passionate invitation, one she had no will to deny.
She went to him eagerly, stepping between his opened legs. He spanned her waist with strong hands that lifted and positioned her across his lap.
His sensuous smile oozed with confidence. “Is this my contentious wife who hated me just this afternoon?” His voice dripped with teasing warmth.
She wanted to say, I’m sorry, to smooth away any hurt she’d caused, but words refused to form.
He trailed one finger from her throat down to her waist through the opening in her gown. “You are a beautiful mother. You take my breath away when suckling our child.” His voice deepened with emotion as he slid one side of her gown off her shoulder. “Each day you fill my life with pleasure, my heart with ecstasy. I love you, Victoria. I love you.”
The last three words echoed through the chambers of her heart as he slipped the other side of her gown from her shoulder.
Jessica teetered on weak legs, suffering from fatigue greater than she’d ever known. Locking her knees to stop from swaying, she quickly scanned her surroundings. She stood just inside the central lounge area of Califar’s palatial residence.
As the best friend of Princess Victoria, wife to Ahalamin’s ruler, she’d often visited the Sand Palace Complex. However, she’d never entered the private living quarters of Ahalamin’s First Regent, Califar Cadin, until now.
The large sitting area surprised her a little, with its mix of modern sectional sofas, Moorish ottomans, and heavily carved side tables. The robed man standing a few feet from her stamped an indelible presence on the room, escalating its exotic décor, and adding a foreign element both unfamiliar and unwanted.
“Where did you send the children?” Her voice cut sharply through the building tension.
“The children are being cared for by our nursing staff. You can check on them tomorrow if you wish.”
He advanced into the room, removed his robe and headpiece, depositing them on one of the many ottomans. Without those, he seemed less intimidating. Over the past year, she’d seen him many times on her visits to Ahalamin, but, not until the last few days had she seen him dressed other than in his formal Arab attire. That, plus the changed status in their relationship, at least from his perspective, had kept her brain in a cloud of perplexity since their escape from the terrorist camp.
“I want to see Victoria.” Jessica stood rigid and wary as Califar moved to stand in front of her.
“You can see Victoria in a few days after you’ve had time to rest and recover from the events of the last two weeks.”
She wanted to insist, but in her weakened state, she was no match for his stubborn nature. Blinking back the dizziness, she unlocked her knees and immediately swayed in his direction.
He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “I’ve called for a personal attendant who will help you bathe. When you’ve refreshed yourself, I’ll join you for a meal. We’ll talk more at that time.”
She nodded, too tired to argue.
Jessica spooned another bite of sweet, vanilla-flavored custard into her mouth, the heavenly taste settled easily on her queasy stomach. After two weeks of little or no food, the variety of dishes arranged on the table suited her current appetite perfectly. A few more bites and she put down her spoon. It seemed that no matter how hungry she felt, her stomach would only accept a small amount.
Califar, on the other hand, suffered no such problem. The large array of unidentifiable selections filling his plate were quickly disappearing. His appetite, it seemed, matched his physique. He hadn’t offered any polite table conversation, which was just as well, since she didn’t feel like forcing politeness she didn’t possess.
She sneaked a quick glance in his direction, wondering if she could gauge his mood. Her stomach muscles clenched as he raised his head, his gaze catching hers.
He pushed his plate to the side and reached for the pitcher of watermelon tea, refilling both their glasses.
“Your eyes are heavy with fatigue. Has the pain medication eased your discomfort?”
While he seemed to be in a congenial mood, she jumped at the chance to state her wishes.
“Yes, I’m not experiencing any pain now. I’m just anxious to see Victoria and to arrange my trip home, the quicker the better.”
“Do you think the events in the past days can that easily be reversed?” His raised brow punctuated the statement.
“Why not? Nothing that happened was with our consent. We only did what was necessary at the time. It means nothing now.” She tossed her napkin on the table.
“On the contrary, for my part, I gave my word with full knowledge of the commitment involved. As for you, you easily consented to be one with me when it suited your purpose. Now, we will both fulfill that commitment. Far from being meaningless, the choice you made will shape the rest of your life and mine.”
A tinge of hysteria laced Jessica’s laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She shook her head in denial. “I will always be grateful to you for getting me out of that hellhole, but honoring some tribal marriage ceremony is way beyond acceptable. Besides, you know we can’t be together more than ten minutes before we’re engaged in verbal combat. We’ve always rubbed each other the wrong way. It just isn’t possible! I want to go home!”
Califar leaned toward her, shrinking the table width to inches. His eyes narrowed, intensifying his words. “Jessica, listen carefully, for I will only state this once. You are my wife. You’re residing in my house, eating at my table, and will shortly be sleeping in my bed. While I promise that you will visit your childhood home in the future, that will not occur until you accept the reality of your present position. I am your husband. The residence I provide for you is now, and will always be your only home.”
She jumped to her feet and with a strong sideways swing of her arm swept the table clean of her dishes, watermelon tea spraying over everything. Califar’s quick reflexes saved him from drowning in the slushy pink liquid. She glared at him, ready to fight her way out of his house, and her prison. He rounded the table, headed in her direction. She planted her feet and jutted her chin forward, unafraid.
Faster than she’d expected, he reached her position. Without slowing his momentum, he ducked and hoisted her over one shoulder, leaving her to dangle down his back like a sack of goods from the market.
Califar carried his argumentative wife toward his bedroom, his heavy stride echoing down the long hall. The fact that she wasn’t fighting clearly proved how near she was to a total emotional and physical collapse. The physician he’d earlier consulted warned that the events of the last two weeks would do immeasurable damage if she didn’t sleep, rest, and eat properly. He’d hoped that she would manifest a reasonable side to her volatile nature. So far, none was forthcoming.
He pushed the double doors leading to his bed-chamber open and strode toward the over-sized bed on the far wall. Resting one knee on the side of the bed, he tilted Jessica onto the coffee-colored bed cover. She immediately turned to her side in an attempt to scoot across the bed. He caught her around the waist and rolled her so that she again lay on her back. She raised her head and shoulders as if to sit up. With one hand placed between her breasts, he pushed her back down, exerting more pressure than was necessary in an effort to stem any further resistance. She didn’t give up.
The sound of her hand connecting with his cheek echoed in her ears and reverberated around the room as the force of the blow forced his head to the side. Despite the shock in his eyes, the pressure of his hand on her chest didn’t weaken but moved upward to encircle her throat. His fingers tightened enough that she knew in that instant, if he wanted, he could snuff out her life with just one hand.
She watched him fight for control. His dragon eyes spit fire at her. Furious lips pulled tight in anger, revealed a set of teeth bared and ready to devour. Consuming rage corded the muscles of his neck. Like a streak of lightning, he released his grip on her throat and grabbed her offending right hand. She couldn’t help wincing from the pressure he exerted on the wound at her wrist. Grabbing her other hand, as well, he levered his powerful frame upon the bed, straddling her and pressing her hands into the pillow beside her head.
She couldn’t look away from his face. For the first time in her life, she knew she’d challenged a stronger force and a spirit more determined to win, than her own. Fear, deep and real, froze her heart as she felt him lower his body to hers, his weight subjugating and punishing.
His words, though not as harsh as she’d expected, still sent a shiver of trepidation down her spine.
“The cruelties you’ve recently endured are the mere threads that keep me from giving you the punishment you deserve. Only a child would act as you have. Ever dare to raise your hand to me again, and you’ll know how I deal with childish defiance. I promise, the knowing will be both painful and embarrassing, as you’ll need a pillow to sit for some days afterward. There is only one position of mastery and authority in this home, and that is a position you do not occupy. If you have any sense of survival left, do exactly as I bid you. Do you understand?”
Fearing the worst, her mind took a moment to realize he’d offered her a warning reprieve, one she desperately needed. She nodded her head, believing in her very core that every word he said, he meant.
“I’m going to roll us both to the center of the bed where you are going to lie still and quiet, allowing your body to seek the sleep it needs. I will not leave you during the night. If you need anything, wake me. Do not leave this bed without my knowledge.”
Califar breathed a sigh of relief. His wife slept next to his side, her head pillowed on his outstretched arm. He softly slid his fingers through the auburn curls that lay in disorderly profusion around her head. His heart pounded. How many times he’d envisioned such freedom. The reality proved more potent than the dream as his trembling hand testified. In the truth of the moment, he examined the wisdom of keeping her by his side.
Now, in his early forties, he’d never thought to experience this total capitulation. Over the years, none of the many women who’d tried to capture his heart had ever done so. From a clearer perspective, he now understood Prince Rashid’s inability to deny his desire for Princess Victoria. What was acceptable and advantageous to both he and Rashid, meant little against whatever mysterious force these American women possessed. Did Rashid feel the same helpless knowledge that stalked his own reason — that his woman owned him, both body and soul?
His maturity, position, and wealth, none had prepared him for a rebellious, westernized-beauty who thought it her right to challenge and control the men in her life. A woman who presumed to test him physically, with no thought of consequence. A woman whose vulnerabilities even she didn’t perceive. Foolishly stubborn. Foolishly brave. Foolishly thinking she equaled her husband’s strength and authority. How was he to protect her, since the worst danger lay within her own mind and heart?
He remembered the feel of her fragile throat, and his overwhelming urge to force her compliance without restraint. Had he ever treated a woman so? Never. He squeezed his eyes closed, the throbbing in his temples almost unbearable.
The path he walked now was unfamiliar and beset with obstacles he’d never before imagined. If she’d been a man, he’d have dealt with her stubborn revolt quickly and decisively, leaving no leeway for dissent.
She needed to understand that despite her physical competence and formidable will, she was still a breakable creature — a woman.
Jessica’s whimper rescued him from his thoughts. She stretched and then turned in his direction, lifting one leg to rest on his and throwing a slender arm across his stomach. The small gesture stole his breathe. Even in sleep, she added more layers of complexity.
Pressed close to his side, her warm body fit perfectly to the contours of his. He’d wanted to claim that body for his own the first time he’d seen her, and every time since. Now, by right of marriage, he had authority to take what belonged to him. But, in this woman’s mind and heart, his rights didn’t exist. If he took her, just because he could, he knew he’d destroy something precious, something she valued, her own self-will. While he didn’t agree that a woman should possess such a problematic character trait, by observing Princess Victoria over the past year, he’d come to accept that it was a fundamental part of an American woman’s nature.
Whether he liked it or not, the direction he must take became clear. For this woman to subject her whole heart, soul, and mind to him, she’d have to trust and love him so completely, that she’d never willingly leave his side. While the path was clear, he had no idea how to follow it to its destination.
To be continued…
Read from the beginning…