CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE — A SERIALIZED NOVEL

Pride and Audacity — Part 15

A stranger — a secret agreement — a changed destiny

“He was the last man on earth she wanted, but she was the only woman on earth he’d have…From the skyscrapers of New York City to the ancient sands of Ahalamin, two untamed hearts war for supremacy…”

Rashid placed the bottle on the chest behind him and rose from the stool. Before Victoria could anticipate his next move, he sat beside her, pinning the covers under his weight. She shrank back as he leaned over and braced his hands on either side of her head. Smelling like warm sunshine and mint, he seemed harmless until his eyes traveled the length of her body and returned to linger on her hand, now clenching the sheet to her breast.

“You are very beautiful, do you know this?” Entrancement flared in his eyes.

Due to her fastidious choosing, she had no intimate experience with men other than an occasional kiss, and her experience with deranged men of royal blood was nonexistent. I should have read more romance novels…

“Mr. Davar, I would appreciate your respecting my space. I don’t like being crowded.” He disturbed her in every way.

“This bed is large enough for six people. Surely you cannot feel cramped.”

“You know what I mean. I don’t like being touched, least of all by you.”

Sparks blazed in his eyes and his voice dripped with ridicule. “Your defiant little mind may not like the idea. But I assure you…your body enjoys my touch very much.”

“What a despicable thing to say. What kind of a man would take advantage of a defenseless woman?”

“Have you never considered an advantage and opportunity to be similar, and a woman’s defenselessness to be a matter of perspective? As to what kind of man I am? Certainly one not pleased to contend with an argumentative wife.”

“I’m your wife by trickery, which doesn’t count in my book.”

“Then it would be wise to consider mine because you are my wife by arrangement, and my book is the only one which matters.”

His hand slid under the back of her head and he lifted her up as easily as he would lift a cup. To her surprise his mocking mouth was gentle, almost reverent, as it pressed against the corner of her tight lips, skimmed across her jaw, and caressed the underside of her chin and neck.

Victoria knew the needy moan she heard was her own. When he lifted his mouth from her neck, his eyes engaged hers with molten intimacy. Her flesh went cold, then hot. Expectation parted her lips and shortened her breath to a pant. He lowered his mouth to hover over hers but withdrew before their lips touched. Instead, his moist lips remapped her cheeks, forehead, and nose — everywhere but her mouth. Her pulse raced, threatening to explode in her head. Wanting him to take more, she followed his lips with hers.

“Your mouth begs for mine, and soon your body will do the same. How long will you be able to deny them what they need?” he asked with an arrogant tilt to his head.

Like a slap in the face, his words stung. How could she be so pathetic? The hands clinging to his shirt pushed against his chest. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“My wife, if ever there was a woman in need, you are foremost. As your husband, I intend to fill all of them and give you great pleasure as I do. I will teach you how to be the woman you were meant to be.”

If his stated intentions weren’t a threat, she didn’t know what else to call them. If he thought she was student material, he was in for a rude awakening.

“You conceited, self-centered fool! When I want to learn the skills you have in mind, the teacher will be the man of my choice. In case you haven’t gotten the message…”

The steely grip on her shoulders stung as he pressed her back against the hard mattress. He lay siege to her mouth. The carnal pillaging devoured her tender lips and breached their barrier, forcing her recognition of him. He took what he considered his, staking a claim even she couldn’t deny.

Shocked and confused, she tried to conjure up a modicum of disgust. Instead, her defecting emotions embraced the foreign intruder, becoming no more substantial than a fictional character that Rashid twisted and turned to fit any scene or drama he wished. He made her live, feel things never before imagined. Each encounter left her breathless and one step closer to his predetermined conclusion. Mercifully, his lips broke from hers.

“You belong to me. No man would dare touch you as I do. Your body will know mine…only mine. Never dare to say such a thing to me again.” The mattress bounced as he lurched to his feet.

His words sounded like the dialogue in the story she imagined. Did she have a death wish? Why couldn’t she muzzle her tongue? Ironically, her tongue had always been her best defense. She’d never met a man her sharp tongue couldn’t conquer.

Rashid stalked from the room, leaving her gawking at his rigid back. An uncomfortable revelation took shape in her mind, exposing a thinly veiled truth. She had challenged him on purpose, tested him to see where he would draw the line. Some part of her respected his strength and dominance. Another part wanted to bring him to his knees. Her actions were reckless. Only a fool played a game before they knew the rules. For once in her life, she didn’t care. Each time he was near he lit the fuse to every emotion she possessed. She wanted to conquer him, but first, she needed to learn to control him.

Victoria lay in bed staring at the tent poles supporting the roof over her head and lamented her abandonment. The least the hateful man could have done was stick around and finish their disagreement like a civilized person. He was sadly lacking in negotiating skills. From what she had seen so far, he was a man who saw no need for finding the middle ground.

How perfectly he embodied every egotistical trait she detested in the male gender. He’d taken over her life, invaded her privacy, and threatened her. Then, in a temper, deserted her without a word. If he intended to kill her with boredom, why drag her halfway around the globe? Three days he’d been gone, leaving her with one companion, a young woman named Zifra.

She pulled her feet closer to her body and hugged one of the pillows to her chest. To be honest, she missed the rat. At least, she missed fighting with him. Why were fattening food and men who drove you crazy the two things women craved?

The second addiction made her squirm. Rashid was fast becoming an infuriating obsession. He commanded her attention with a look, revealed her weaknesses with a touch. He could draw her to the edge of control, suspend her there, then, in a heartbeat, push her over the precipice. Even her shadowy places weren’t safe from him. Dare she allow him to make her darkness shine?

Disconcerted by the direction of her thoughts, she channeled them in a different direction. Zifra was taking her outside today. Gladdened by the prospect, she intended to make the most of whatever freedom was presented. A little adventurous investigation of her surroundings would get her mind refocused. As for Rashid, who needed him? He could bleach his bones in the sun.

Slipping out of bed, she dressed in the cream-colored pants and tunic provided for her. The olive green cover-shirt brushed against her ankles as it ruffled in the breeze filtering in between the edge of the tent cloth and the ground.

Inside the tent the temperature stayed surprisingly moderate, the extreme desert heat only really becoming bothersome in the late afternoon. At night, when the air cooled to around seventy degrees, she actually welcomed the bed coverings.

Since his arrogant lordship had not thought it necessary to give her a hint of his plans, she would make some of her own. Plan one; get out of the sleeping area. Plan two; explore the rest of her desert accommodations. Plan three…

Zifra rushed through the door, bowed quickly and launched into excited chatter. The only word Victoria understood was Rashid’s name. The girl exaggerated it with great embellishment. Apparently, the teenager nurtured a crush on ‘His All Mightiness’. On the girl’s arm lay a cream-colored head covering that matched Victoria’s clothing. Victoria took it without complaint and tried properly arranging the cloth over her hair. After two attempts, Zifra finished the task.

Since they were in the middle of a sun-drenched desert, it seemed ludicrous to add so many layers of clothing. On the other hand, these people had been doing so forever and seemed to thrive. The old adage, ‘When in Rome…’ took on a new meaning.

Victoria followed Zifra through the entryway and entered a much larger section of the tent. She knew her eyes must resemble saucers as she stared at her surroundings with astonishment. Her desert prison would be perfect for the cover of Fantasy Hideaways. Four over-sized ottomans covered in tightly woven cranberry fabric filled one corner, making a cozy conversation area. Large stacks of yellow and blue pillows graced the thick multi-colored rugs, enough, in fact, to have carpeted the whole floor in a checkerboard of soft blue and yellow mounds.

She’d thought the sumptuous round bed with its red and gold satin covering a little over the top for camping, but this was like a storybook illustration. Brocaded silk panels hung on the inside of the tent walls completely concealing them in luxury. Small ornately carved tables dotted about the room held bowls of fruit and oleander blossoms. What appeared to be small oil lamps, much like the one she remembered from her childhood picture book of Aladdin, perched on lamp stands throughout the enclosure.

Hollywood couldn’t have set a more perfect stage. The atmosphere oozed with captivating sensuality. She wondered if this was his usual accommodation, or had he laid all this out just to impress her.

How very perceptive he was. Of her ability to resist him, she was confident. But she was definitely going to have a problem resisting the exotic illusion he’d created around her.

Zifra tugged on Victoria’s arm, pulling her through another cloth-covered doorway into an alien world outside where the sky unrolled itself into an infinite baby-blue expanse. Warm air swirled in playful eddies around her legs and carried a fascinating aroma that tickled Victoria’s nose and heightened her anticipation. The diverse smells hinted at the presence of animals, aromatic plants and, she was sure someone was cooking.

Zifra wanted to move ahead but Victoria pointed to the ground, she wanted a moment longer to permanently etch these first impressions into her memory. She counted the black tents forming an enclosing circle around hers. There were fourteen. Women and small children sheltered under the shade of makeshift canopies at the front of each dwelling. Children played around their mother’s skirts while the women occupied themselves at weaving looms. Some were fringing the edges of long lengths of cloth.

Responding to the repetitive tug on her sleeve, Victoria gave in and followed Zifra through the camp, passing close by several tents in her route. The women’s greetings were warm and friendly. Some even reached out to touch her. The children danced in circles around her and took turns coming forward to hug her. Offerings of figs and dates in brightly colored baskets kept appearing for sampling, which she did. Never had she met a more hospitable group of women.

She would have willingly lingered among them if it weren’t for Zifra’s single-mindedness. The girl shoved a bowl half-filled with water into Victoria’s hands. Not having a clue what to do with it, she shrugged her shoulders inquiringly. Zifra ignore her gesture and motioned more emphatically for Victoria to follow. The other women giggled and waved companionably as she walked away. Intrigued, Victoria decided to play along until she could discern the meaning behind Zifra’s obscure mission.

They made their way through the tents to the camp’s outside perimeter. There, they were joined by a larger group of women, about thirty or forty in all. The excited women each carried their own bowl of water and talked animatedly among themselves.

Contagious enthusiasm sent ripples of anticipation along Victoria’s spine. Was this some kind of female ritual? She brushed the beads of perspiration from her nose and hoped it included an anointing with water. She could use the cooling down.

Ten minutes later, after standing exposed to the full impact of the sun’s rays, Victoria thought she might be the one whose bones bleached. Several short gusts of wind stirred up the sand and left her throat parched and her lips burning. Still holding the bowl, she looked longingly at its contents. Why not put the water to good use? She lifted the bowl toward her mouth. Zifra quickly pushed it away, sloshing a little over the side onto Victoria’s fingers. By her frown, Victoria knew she’d transgressed some rule. She looked at the beads of water clinging to her fingers and suppressed the urge to lick them.

Why was she complaining? She’d wanted an adventure. This would teach her to be more specific when formulating her wants. Next time, she’d consider an Alaskan cruise or base camp on Mount Everest. How long was she expected to stand baking in the sun? She could try and ask, but the excitement of the other women made her hesitant to dampen their zeal. They were obviously having a great time doing — whatever it was they were doing.

Multiple gunshots splintered the air. Victoria jerked and clutched the bowl tightly to her chest. The women turned in unison toward the sound. Mounted riders topped a nearby dune and galloped headlong toward where she and the women stood. Brandishing rifles over their heads, they fired them into the air as they charged.

She was going to die on her first adventure. She turned to run. Zifra blocked her retreat and pointed to the ground. The renegades, enveloped in a cloud of dust and sand, bore down on her as threateningly as a desert storm. She managed to take two steps backward, this time, Zifra latched onto her arm and again pointed sharply toward the ground. Hoping for another option, Victoria looked toward the other women. What she saw was not panic but expectancy. Not a believer in miracles herself, she squeezed her eyes closed.

The vibration of galloping horses caused the ground to tremble under her feet. She couldn’t just stand there hoping that what she refused to see wouldn’t harm her. Opening her eyes to small slits, she prepared for the worst. The demented riders came to a flourishing halt a few yards in front of her and began to dismount. By the look of them, they must have been in some kind of fight. Two needed help to dismount. Bloodstains streaked the robes of several more. Despite their wounds, there was a jubilant camaraderie amongst them. Evidently, they were happy with the outcome of their unknown exploit. In her opinion, covered in sand and sweat, they were a sorry looking bunch of winners. They didn’t smell very good either.

Zifra placed her hand in the middle of Victoria’s back and gave her a small push forward. Victoria shook her head in vigorous denial. Whatever came next, she didn’t want any part of it. Seeing her reluctance to move, Zifra indicated she should observe the other women. They each carried a bowl of water to one of the dismounted riders. When approaching the riders, the women assumed a kneeling position and held the water bowl over their lowered heads. The men took the water, drank its contents, and returned the bowl to the woman at their feet. In no other way did they acknowledge the offering…the ungrateful jerks.

Rashid stood next to a large, muscular horse. Both looked dangerous. His dark clothing, dark sunglasses, and dark beard growth made him look like a member of the desert mafia — if there were such a thing. He didn’t look up from his task but continued to coil a long, black whip which he attached to the horse’s saddle. She didn’t even want to think about what he did with such a weapon.

The menacing looking horse at his side began to paw the ground and then reared up on its hind legs. Rashid stepped forward and picked up the stallion’s dangling lead. With long slow strokes, he calmed and controlled the animal. The raw, primitive power they both exuded gave her the jitters.

Without warning, he turned, removed his glasses, and stared straight at her, his eyes predatory and unyielding. He appeared altogether wild and undomesticated. The untamed twist to his lips hinted at emotions he had not yet revealed to her. He radiated animal magnetism. So much so, she wanted to jump out of her skin.

Zifra nudged her forward again. In her fascination with the desert warrior before her, she had almost forgotten about the girl and the silly water offering. No way! She wasn’t giving him another excuse to humiliate her in front of his buddies! Zifra pushed harder. Victoria dug her toes into the sand. Everything stilled around her. Voices quieted as she realized she was now the main attraction.

Zifra no longer prodded her, but she was staring at her like everyone else, including Rashid. They all waited to see what she was going to do. How did she get herself into this situation? All she’d wanted was a modest adventure, an uneventful walk in his little sand box.

She risked a glance at Rashid. With one hand, he caressed the neck of his black stallion, but his eyes watched her. Behind his impassive expression was a silent, inflexible command. To insult him in front of his people would be an unforgivable affront to his dignity. After all, he was a prince. She supposed he deserved some measure of deference. Maybe taking him a half-filled bowl of water wouldn’t kill her.

She lifted her chin and gave him a warning glare. He’d better not make her regret this whole water thing. She lowered her eyes to make her approach. But not before she noticed the singular intensity with which he focused on her. It made her shiver despite the furnace-like heat. Stopping within a foot of him, she debated the whole falling on her knees part and opted out. With the slightest bow of her head, she offered him the bowl.

Panic kicked her in the chest when he hesitated. Surely, he wouldn’t publicly humiliate her by forcing her to kneel. Her dilemma didn’t last long. He took the bowl from her hands and a riotous, masculine shout rang out from his band of cohorts. After drinking the water, he returned the bowl to her and without so much as a thank you, turned his back and led his horse toward camp.

A throng of women surrounded her, all intent on touching and offering what appeared to be congratulations. Finally, she’d done something right. Their approval sweetened what had turned out to be a sour experience. Her legs began to tremble and her shoulders sagged. Zifra, noticing her weakness, took hold of her arm and urged her to return to the tent.

To be continued…

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