CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE — A SERIALIZED NOVEL
Pride and Audacity — Part 17
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…”
Victoria heard her name and realized Rashid was speaking to her. Looking around, she was amazed to find the room empty of his guests. She must have been deeply engrossed in her thoughts to miss their departure.
“Are you well? You were choking earlier and just now, you were very distracted.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired I think. I’m not in the habit of eating so late. It must be after eleven.”
“Go to bed. I’ll see the lamps are extinguished.”
A suggestion she was eager to take, but there was only one sleeping area. “Where are you going to sleep?”
“In my bed,” he replied as he crossed the room to extinguish two lamps.
“But…I’m in your bed,” she said, her eyes round with concern.
“As you should be.”
“But…uh.”
He came toward her, stopping just inches away. “Do not cause yourself worry. When it is necessary, I can be a patient man. You will come to me in time. However, if I must wait, I do not intend to forgo all pleasure. A man is entitled to hold his wife while she sleeps.”
“I don’t think…”
“Victoria,” he said with a deep sigh. “Do not pick this battle to fight. You will not win. Now please, do as I ask. You are still weak from your illness and need your rest.”
Victoria changed for bed in record time, grateful for the sleeping shift Zifra supplied her. Reaching her calf and having a neckline her prudish grandmother would have approved of, the sleeping attire made her less nervous about sharing his bed. She no longer feared he would force her into a sexual relationship she didn’t want. As he had once said, “I never lie to a woman.” So far, he’d proven his word to be sufficient.
Rashid entered and dropped his robe across the stool, then disappeared into the bath. Victoria took the opportunity to scoot to the far side of the bed. Pulling the covers up, she waited. He was quick to return. Darkness enveloped her as he extinguished the last lamp, adding a deeper layer of intimacy. Her heartbeat skyrocketed as the bed moved under his weight. A warm, strong hand slid around her waist. With a suggestive tug, he communicated his expectation. Taking his earlier advice, she conceded the battle and scooted backward until her body met his. Not satisfied with her choice of contact, he drew her closer until they were tightly spooned together.
Why, at this late stage in her life, did she finally find the cocooning safety she’d craved since her mother’s death? Why did his cultural point of view drive her crazy while his arms made her a willing captive? Reason told her to slay the conqueror and free the princess, allowing her to return to the sanity of her steel and concrete world. Her heart, however, wanted to stay a prisoner, locked away forever in this man’s world. Victoria sighed with longing and denial. She couldn’t reach for a fantasy that held no future for her children.
“Rashid, can I ask you something?” She didn’t like the insecurity that shaped her question, but there were things more important than her momentary self-doubt.
“You may ask whatever you wish.”
“How do you feel about children?”
“Are we talking about our children or children as a whole?”
“Well, let’s just say, we decided to give this relationship a trial run. How would you think about children then?”
“There is no trial here, Victoria. Do you not, in fact, lie in my embrace? Do you not shelter under my tent, sleep in my bed? You only play games in your mind to allow yourself to think all this is fantasy instead of truth.”
“Okay…just answer the question,” she huffed in exasperation.
“When you come to me, I will see you are not with child too quickly. You need time to come to know your new home and husband. As for me, I do not wish to share you with the demanding tasks of motherhood just yet. I expect we will have many children in the future, but for now, we need only concern ourselves with uniting the two of us. Does this satisfy your need for an answer?”
“Yes.”
“Let your mind empty, my wife. Think of the indigo sky above with its multitude of starry lights, each shining in watchful care over you. Think of my body as a shield for yours, my arms as they protect and shelter. Know, on this night, the most valued treasure the desert holds in its warm embrace…is you.” He nuzzled the back of her neck, placing a soft, comforting kiss against her skin.
Her mind reeled with the poetry of his words. He was addicting. A silent tear slid down her cheek and then another. She could have Rashid and every fantasy he embodied, but that fantasy did not include her children. Having dealt in facts her whole life, she knew they didn’t lie. Facts dictated action. She was on an ocean with no safe harbors. She needed to return to stable ground and to the children she loved as quickly as she could. Before her will to do so vanished.
Victoria loved to stroll from tent to tent. Exchanging greetings with the women and playing hide-and-seek with the children were highlights of her last five days. She’d asked Rashid to interpret the game’s rules to the children and, to her amazement, he’d done so with enthusiasm, even joining in on occasion.
She couldn’t believe how easily she’d fit into a primitive and nomadic way of life. The women here never stressed over organizing their priorities or stayed awake at night planning how best to stay one step ahead of every male colleague in their father’s firm. They were contented women, focused on their family role. Despite their less-than-empowered lifestyle, they were happy. Their husbands appeared distant and remote on the surface…but, in reality, they were very aware of their family’s needs and desires. An affectionate glance or smile between couples, when they thought no one observed, was common. In a male-dominated and restrictive culture, women here had foregone independence for the protection of a man’s strength and his ability to provide for them and their children. It wasn’t perfect, but neither was the over-rated freedom which had so complicated her life.
Stopping to enjoy her favorite spot by the oasis pool, she watched the breeze-driven ripples roll across the blue-green water. So beautiful, but not as perfect as the night before when the moon had ridden high in the night sky. Its reflection on the glassy surface of the water appeared so clear, if she had been able to walk on water, she would have stood on the moon itself. No spot on earth could be more magical or lend itself more readily to spinning fantasies.
Regret squeezed her heart. Her children would love this place: the sun, the sand, the adventure. How she wished they were here playing with these tawny skinned children in innocent disregard for the world’s problems and prejudices. She could almost hear Aaron’s delighted laughter at being included among the small boys of the camp who swam and played with Rashid in the waning evening light. And, wouldn’t her princesses giggle in delight to be among the little girls allowed to brush Ali? How patient Rashid had been, teasing and encouraging the little girls to approach the fearsome black animal. He would make a wonderful father.
She lay in his embrace each night savoring every nuance of his being…his earthy smell, his possessive touch. The masculine body next to hers no longer assaulted her invisible barriers. Now, she was the one who moved willingly into his waiting embrace and eagerly responded to his exploring kisses. Secretly, she was the one who silently screamed in denial each time he set limits on his desire. Day by day, she carefully inscribed on her heart every expression and promise in his beautiful eyes and heart-stopping smile. Deliberately, she stored up a lifetime of memories, knowing there was no hope of blending their two worlds. The ocean of differences between them was too wide and uncharted.
A popping noise, similar to gunfire, put an end to her troubling thoughts. Cautiously, she followed the sound around the pool and over the top of the dune behind. Reaching its summit, she knelt and peered at the scene below. Twenty-five or thirty men formed a circle around four combatants. The sound she’d heard was the crack of Rashid’s whip. He stood alone in the circle’s center. Three men, armed with curved swords in one hand and daggers in the other, stalked him from three sides.
Alarmed, she eased over the hill and made her way down the other side. She crossed the few yards to the outer edge of the ring of men encircling the fighters. Recognizing her, they parted their ranks, giving her access to the front. The shouting increased in decibels as the crowd became more excited. She thought they might be engaged in a sport of some kind until, to her horror, one of the men cut into Rashid’s chest, drawing a line of blood across his shirt. Bile rose in her throat. She covered her mouth with her hand and swallowed repeatedly to keep from vomiting. What was going on? Why did someone not help him?
A wave of terror rolled up her throat like bile. What if this was a mutiny, or rebellion, or whatever you called such a thing in the middle of a sanity-forsaken desert? That would explain why no one was attempting to defend him. She must do something. She couldn’t stand here and watch him murdered in front of her eyes. Scanning the crowd for something she could use as a weapon, she spotted a man a few feet to her left with a holstered pistol strapped to his waist. His fists were raised in the air as he shouted encouragement at the contenders. She inched toward him and carefully slipped the gun from his holster. For a split second, she weighed the consequences of her next move, then pushed them aside and charged into the circle of conflict toward Rashid. Approaching one attacker from the rear, she lowered her shoulder and rammed into his back with all her might, knocking him to the ground. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, but she was still on her feet. Jerking the gun over her head, she pulled the trigger and fired one round, then another.
Everything stopped, like a movie reel after a film break, the action frozen in time. Stepping away from the prone man, she measured the distance to Rashid. Behind him, she saw another of his attackers start to move toward him. She leveled the pistol and shot. The man stopped dead still and stared incredulously at the bullet hole in the sand just inches from his feet.
“Get back, all of you!”
She had gained their attention. They might not understand her words but they understood her intent. No one moved. Victoria knew no group of men would ever be more astonished than those who watched her now. She was counting on their astonishment to give Rashid some kind of advantage.
Turning her pleading eyes on him, she shouted. “Come on, you need to get out of here!”
He lowered his whip, but he didn’t move. “Victoria put the gun down. There is no danger.”
“No. They’ll kill you,” she said, her voice high pitched with hysteria. She glanced back at the first assailant and found him on his feet again and easing his way toward her. She whirled on him and lifted the pistol. The crack of a whip reverberated through the dunes at the same moment the extended coil wrapped around the barrel of her gun. The pistol flew from her hands into the air, falling several yards out of her reach.
Confused and terrified, she ran toward Rashid and vaulted into his arms. She threw off his head covering and entangled her fingers in his hair, using the advantage to pull his mouth to hers. If they were going to die, she wanted to die in his arms. For the barest of seconds, he remained motionless. Then, he wrapped her in a bone-crushing embrace.
Too soon, he parted his lips from hers and dug his hands into her hair, pushing her face into his chest. His racing heart pounded loud and strong. He murmured something over and over as if reciting a prayer. Since he spoke in his own language, she had no idea what he said. Realizing she could be exposing him to more danger, she released her hold on his shoulders and pushed away from him. He allowed the separation. The appalling sight of his blood, now wet and sticky on her palm, forced a strangled cry from her lips.
Victoria didn’t resist as Rashid led her back to their tent. The throbbing in her head kept up an agonizing tempo as she laid across the bed.
“Victoria, listen to my voice. I am safe. You are safe. Please, ease your mind and relax.”
Something cool settled across her forehead. “My head hurts,” she complained, half coherent.
“You need to open your eyes and take these tablets; they will ease your headache. You are suffering from too much sun and a great deal too much excitement.”
She bolted upright sending arrows of pain through her temples. “They were trying to kill you.”
“No. It was merely a training exercise.”
“But you were bleeding.”
“Nothing serious. Merely a miscalculation on my part. The wound will heal quickly.” he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“Are you telling me I made a complete fool of myself for nothing?”
“You have never been a fool. And I have decided …” He smiled mischievously. “You may rescue me whenever you wish.”
“This can’t be real.” She covered her eyes with her palms.
“Take these tablets to ease the pain. Then we will talk.”
She complied and let him ease her back down on the pillow. “I must have broken every rule in your book and started another. Tell me I didn’t kiss you in front of all those men.”
He placed the water glass on a side table and sat beside her on the bed before answering her plea. A teasing grin gave her some warning of his smug satisfaction.
“I would allow myself to be tortured to death before denying the evidence of my wife’s great affection for me.”
Victoria groaned and once again hid her face with her hands. Two and a half weeks with this man and she’d become a deranged wild-woman. “I’m sure your people will be glad to see the last of me.”
“On the contrary, my people seem to think I have been most wise in my choice of a wife. They have named you, Princess of Fire. These men respect courage, whether they find this is in a man or a woman. You, my wife, are a woman of great courage.”
Picking up her hand, Rashid placed a kiss in her palm and on the throbbing pulse at her wrist. His eyes glowed with a new kind of confidence. He fingered the charms on the bracelet encircling her wrist.
“In ancient times, the Sultan’s favorite was the only one who could wear this. The bracelet’s charms of butterflies, golden rings, and fig blossoms are symbolic of the value he placed on her. It reminded him that this woman he loved above all others was a delicate treasure, one to be cherished and protected. Night and day, he would hear the tinkling sound and know she was near.
“Why give it to me? You hardly know me.”
“I have always known you.” He leaned closer, looking deeply into her eyes. “Every man knows when he has found the one woman who must belong to him alone. It is a thing not easily explained, but true. Today, you gave me a gift of inestimable value.”
His words spun her heart like a top. Much more and she would give him anything he asked. Better to change the mood, lighten the conversation. “Under the circumstances, I think I can be forgiven for getting a little crazy. I’m not brave, but I’m not a coward either. I’d do the same for a mugging victim in New York, so don’t make too much of it.”
“You do not like to admit you care for me?”
“Whatever my feelings, nothing will change the facts. This relationship can’t work.”
He drew back, giving her some much-needed breathing space.
“I am too pleased with you at the moment to take exception to your stubborn words. Besides, I have a surprise for you.” The gleam in his eyes tantalized and teased her.
“What do you mean?”
“Tonight is our last night in this place. We leave tomorrow for the palace. I have pressing matters which need my attention. As is customary on my last night, I share a meal with the Sheikhs and their sons. Tonight, you have been given the privilege of being an invited guest.”
“Are any other women going to be present?”
“I believe the Sheikhs are allowing their wives to attend in deference to you.”
“Never underestimate the power of a woman with a gun,” she sniffed haughtily. “The mighty men of the desert are actually lowering themselves to eat with a mere female.”
Rashid raised a disapproving eyebrow. “I expect you to conduct yourself properly.”
“Would I dare do otherwise, my Lord?” She should take pity on him. If he gritted his teeth any harder, he would crack one. Practicing a measure of diplomacy, she added a little reassurance for the sake of peace. “Don’t worry. I promise not to embarrass you.”
Victoria dressed and carefully positioned her head covering, leaving only a tiny bit of blonde hair exposed on her forehead. She paced the communal area of the tent while waiting on Rashid. Whoever said women were slow dressers hadn’t waited on a desert prince. When he finally parted the drapes, she was overwhelmed with the majesty of his appearance. He was gorgeous as he stood like a conqueror of worlds…her world at least.
His headpiece, trimmed in black and gold braiding, stamped him as exotic and mysterious. A red silk sash wrapped his waist. The striking color created a powerful contrast between his black attire and the white of his robe. Regal was the word that came to mind. Princely. She was definitely going to be on the arm, or rather three feet behind, the best-looking man at the banquet.
“Are you ready, Victoria?”
She cocked her head and studied him for a moment, still immersed in the sensual magnetism he radiated like heat.
“Do you like what you see?” Confidence smoldered in his knowing eyes.
“I…uh. I was just thinking how much you look like a character in a Hollywood movie.”
“Is this a compliment or an insult?”
“At the risk of swelling your inflated ego, let’s just say-I’d pay the admission fee.”
His eyes moved freely up and down her body. The suggestive grin painted on his incredible mouth curled her toes. “Why pay for what you already own and I am most eager to give?”
Victoria’s mouth went dry. With a few words, he could reduce her to a quivering mass of nerve endings, all of which, wanted to be plastered to him. She needed to change the subject. “I wish I could match your elegance. These robes don’t offer us, poor females, much of an opportunity for fashion.”
“Your kind of beauty does not need to preen itself in fashion or embellishments. The sun kisses your hair, the starry heavens shine in your eyes, and your body sings at the touch of my hand. Nothing could make you more beautiful.”
The man was dangerous. His tongue should be licensed as a lethal weapon. How was a woman supposed to cope with a man who could disarm her with only three sentences? With a half-smile, she thanked him for the compliment.
“To remind you of how much you please me will always be my privilege.” He placed a hand at her back and a quick kiss on her cheek. “I would tell you more, but we are expected and I do not wish to insult our hosts by arriving late.”
To be continued…
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