The Sheikh Read online

  He smiled and shook his head. ‘Do not concern yourself, Chloe. All will become clear to you in time. I shall leave you now. The women will come to you and make you comfortable—and perhaps later this afternoon you may feel able to get up for a little while.’

  Chloe stared after him as he left the tent. He had suggested that she would learn his purpose in time and that she would understand when she knew him better.

  That strange intense look was back in his eyes, making her tingle once more. Why did he look at her so? Her flesh seemed to burn from the heat of that look, and her throat felt constricted, her mouth dry.

  What did he mean? Was she going to know him better? Was he saying that he liked her—that she was special to him? Suddenly, her heart was thumping with excitement and she realised that she would very much like to spend more time with this man.

  Chapter Six

  After Pasha had left her, two women came to the tent. They gave her food and water, and she discovered that she was hungry. The women encouraged her, smiling and chattering in a language she could not understand. She was sad that there was no way to communicate with them, but her attempts to speak to them in French met with only a shake of the head. However, they were very friendly, and after a few minutes they began to make themselves clear by signing.

  They had brought a jug of water and a gleaming copper bowl, indicating that she should wash her face. There were also soft towels, a kind of perfumed liquid soap—and clothes.

  Chloe was shown several different outfits, from which they seemed to be indicating she might take her choice. The skirts were long and full, the tunics loose and from what she could see meant to be worn over the skirt, and then belted at the waist with a plaited tie. She saw that they had also brought a headdress, which would protect her head from the fierce heat of the sun, and a band of what looked like gold medallions to wear around her forehead.

  She chose a red skirt and a white tunic, which looked as if they might fit her, and the women nodded approvingly as they showed her a dark gold belt, which seemed to go with the other things.

  Looking at her arms as she washed herself in the cool water, Chloe noticed that there were unsightly patches where the skin had peeled away, and was glad that the tunic had wide, flared sleeves. When she was dressed, she glanced at herself in a hand mirror they held for her and exclaimed in horror as she saw the blotches on her face. She looked terrible!

  One of the women gave her a little pot of grease, miming the action of rubbing it on her skin and smiling. She was obviously trying to tell her that the cream would repair the damage in time, and Chloe accepted it gratefully.

  She wasn’t a vain girl, and usually spent the minimum of time fussing with herself, but it was rather disturbing to see her skin looking so patchy.

  Chloe smiled, telling them that she understood and put a little of the grease on her face. It smelled of roses and felt light and cooling to the skin.

  She was conscious that she didn’t look her best when she went outside, and could only hope that her complexion would recover its natural texture and colouring in time.

  She paused as she saw Pasha standing with another man of similar height and build, not liking to approach them—but then Pasha noticed her.

  He smiled and came towards her. ‘The costume suits you better than the one you were wearing for that foolish film. Are you feeling well enough to be introduced to my cousin?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I must thank him for his hospitality.’

  Chloe felt oddly shy as she was led forward and introduced to Mohammed Ibn Ali. His dark eyes went over her in what she felt was a critical way, and although he greeted her courteously, he did not smile or offer to shake her hand. She felt that he disapproved of her, and there was none of the warmth or friendliness that she had met with in Ahmad Al-Hadra’s home.

  Chloe felt extremely uncomfortable. He was a very stern man and she feared she had aroused his dislike. ‘I wish to thank you for your help. I fear I have caused a great deal of trouble, sir.’

  He inclined his head in assent. ‘This is true—but it was written. These things have their purpose.’

  Chloe was not sure how to reply. She felt a sense of relief when his critical gaze was removed, sensing that she had been measured and found wanting. It seemed that he was about to take his leave and move on further into the desert, though, as Pasha explained to her later, a few of the men and women were to remain with them.

  ‘They stay to look after us until you are well enough to return to the village,’ Pasha told her. ‘We must travel part of the way by camel, though a landing area has been prepared and my plane will be waiting for us when we reach the first Berber settlement.’

  ‘You have done so much for me—’ Chloe broke off, her voice torn with emotion. She knew that she would have died alone in the desert but for him, and her gratitude almost overcame her. Her eyes misted with tears, which she struggled to subdue. ‘I feel foolish and I cannot begin to tell you—’

  ‘You were foolish to agree to appear in that ridiculous film,’ he said and frowned at her. ‘That costume you were wearing was both inaccurate and scandalous.’

  ‘Oh, but…’ Chloe was about to explain that she’d had no choice, but something made her change her mind. Why was he being so arrogant over such a silly thing? She was grateful for all that he had done, but she really could not allow him to dictate to her. ‘I do not like Brent Harwood, but that doesn’t mean his film would have been ridiculous. Besides, those films give pleasure to a lot of people.’

  ‘We shall never agree on that subject,’ he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. She had the strangest notion that he was provoking her deliberately, trying to make her annoyed with him. Could it be that he did not want her to express her gratitude? ‘But we shall agree to disagree. Shall we take a little walk together?’

  Chloe nodded. They were encamped at what was obviously a small oasis, and there were trees near the water hole. As she moved closer she could see that some of them had fruit growing on them.

  ‘Dates,’ Pasha told her as he saw her interest. ‘But not as you would know them at home.’

  ‘I imagine these are unripe,’ Chloe said. ‘But it surprises me that anything grows in this place—or that any life is sustained in that desert out there.’ She shuddered as she looked at the vast expanse that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see.

  ‘A mere twenty percent of this area is fit for sustaining any kind of crop,’ he said. ‘Those who choose to live here depend on their sheep and goats, and fruit like this—but water is scarce and precious. The Bedouin were fierce warriors in the old days. Today only a few remain true to the old ways, the others find different ways to live.’

  ‘Like your cousin in Marrakesh—and you?’

  Pasha nodded. ‘I have many relatives in this part of the world; they are scattered all over the region, here and in Algiers, and Syria—and in the Persian Gulf. Only Mohammed Ibn Ali clings stubbornly to the old ways.’

  ‘He did not approve of me,’ Chloe said. ‘Was it because you were put to so much trouble to look for me?’

  ‘That and other things. You are not of his faith.’ Pasha saw her frown. ‘Some of my people accept that we must make friends with the Western world, accept those things that we cannot approve—others resist the change that must come.’

  ‘I see…at least I think I do.’ Chloe sighed and smothered a yawn. ‘Forgive me.’ She swayed slightly towards him. ‘I am feeling a little odd…’ Pasha put his arm about her, steadying her. Chloe leaned against him, glad of his support.

  ‘You are still weak. You should rest.’

  ‘Oh, not yet,’ Chloe begged. It felt so good to be near him—why did it feel so good? Was it just the comfort of his strong body or something more? ‘Let me stay here with you a little longer. I do so want to know you better.’

  ‘Do you, Chloe?’ His dark eyes were intent, his mouth somehow softer than usual. His look and his voice were making her feel odd. ‘Tha
t is good, for it is what I want also.’

  He gave her a hungry look that made her tremble. She remembered the magic of that dance on board ship, and for the first time began to understand what she had discovered in his arms. This was the passion she had seen portrayed on the cinema screen—but for real! A feeling of intense excitement mixed with a hint of danger ran through her. This was real! She was beneath desert stars with her own Sheikh and he was about to kiss her…perhaps to make love to her…

  Her heart was pounding wildly, her limbs seeming to be on fire as she swayed slightly towards him. This strange and wonderful sensation was sweeping her away, making her lose all control, and she sensed that he was feeling it too. He wanted this as much as she did! She could see it in his eyes. And then he reached out for her, his face working with some strong emotion that she could only suppose was desire.

  Her lips parted in a tiny sigh as he drew her closer. She wondered if he could feel the frantic beating of her heart, as his strong arm tightened its hold on her, and he lowered his head to kiss her oh so softly on the mouth. A feeling of exquisite pleasure flowed through Chloe. There was nothing frightening or demanding in his kiss, just a sweetness that made her respond eagerly to his caress, her body melting into his as she was filled with a strange sensation she had never known before.

  ‘You are intoxicating,’ he murmured against her ear, his body hard and lean beneath the desert robes seeming to burn her. She was melting in the heat of his passion, unable to resist whatever he wished of her. ‘Do you know what you do to me?’

  ‘I—I do not know…’

  ‘You make me want to touch every last piece of your body, to taste you and—’ Pasha broke off with a harsh laugh as she gazed up at him in wonder, her eyes wide and endearingly innocent.

  ‘Pasha? I…’

  Pasha laughed as he saw her expression. ‘You look like a startled fawn,’ he said, his tone amused, indulgent. He let her go as his mood changed abruptly. ‘Is it so surprising that I should want to make love to you, Chloe?’

  ‘I was surprised because it was so nice,’ she said honestly. She was confused by his change of tone, unsure of how to respond. Why had he drawn back so suddenly? Had she done something wrong? She did not know how to behave when a man made love to her—even though she very much wanted this one to make love to her. ‘I don’t know why you should want to kiss me. I’m not beautiful—and I must look awful at the moment with my face like this.’ She touched the rough patches on her cheeks.

  ‘You have looked better,’ Pasha said, a gentle concern dawning in his eyes. ‘But you are lovely, Chloe. Your smile, your manner, your eyes.’ He touched her cheek with gentle fingers. ‘Nothing can change those things, and these blemishes on your skin will fade. Now that the peeling has begun, the healing will follow. When we are in my house in the mountains of Spain you will rest and grow well again.’

  ‘Your home?’ Chloe was startled. She gazed up at him, trying to see into his mind and failing. What was he suggesting? Her heart began to pound frantically. ‘But I can’t…I mean…it is kind of you, but…it wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘You are afraid that I might try to seduce you or imprison you in my harem?’

  ‘Oh, no! Of course not…’ She faltered as she saw the gleam of wicked laughter in his eyes. ‘But you have already done so much and my work…’

  ‘I believe Professor Hicks will spare you to me.’ His smile was gentle and teasing now rather than wicked. ‘Shall I ask Sashimi to come with us—for your modesty’s sake?’

  Chloe could not meet his gaze. ‘I—I don’t know what to say. I am not sure why you should want me to—’ She caught a flash of fire in his eyes. ‘Oh…’ A flush rose up from deep inside her, sweeping up her neck and into her face.

  ‘I am not Brent Harwood,’ he told her. ‘But I do believe that some things are meant to be, Chloe.’ He smiled and traced the line of her cheek to her throat with his fingertip. ‘Will you not trust me, Chloe?’

  Should she? He had told her once that he was promised to someone, and it had caused her some jealousy. Yet for some while now she had not quite believed in the absent fiancée.

  ‘Yes…I mean…I thought you were engaged to be married—or was that just something you made up to keep other women at a distance?’

  ‘I see you have penetrated my subterfuge. It was a convenient lie,’ he said with a rueful look. ‘There is no one important in my life. It is sometimes helpful to have an absent fiancée. Will you forgive me for this small deception? I did not know you then, and the lie was thoughtless.’

  ‘Oh…yes,’ she said, feeling oddly light-headed. At that moment, she thought she could forgive him anything if he truly cared for her…if only she didn’t feel so very unwell. ‘I—I feel a little faint. Perhaps I should go and lie down.’

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘Have I frightened you, my poor Chloe? Do you want to run away to the safety of your friends?’

  ‘I…no!’ she said decisively. ‘No, I want to know you better, Pasha, but I really do feel a little odd.’

  He swore as she gave a gasp and swayed unsteadily, bending down to scoop her up in his arms as her knees buckled. Chloe’s head was swimming as he carried her into the tent and deposited her gently on the couch. She was clearly not completely recovered from her ordeal as yet, but it had felt so right in his arms.

  He made her feel safe, and he had saved her life, for she was certain that no one would have looked for her if he had not been concerned for her well-being.

  Perhaps it was foolish to let him take complete charge of her life, but she felt that she was being compelled by an unseen force. Perhaps Sashimi was right. Perhaps it was written in the stars…

  They lingered for three days in the desert, and each day Chloe grew a little stronger. She walked with Pasha every day, and sat with him in the evenings by the campfire, listening to the singing that often entertained them at night. He taught her a few words of his people’s language so that she could thank the woman who helped her, and he also told her stories of his people’s history.

  ‘They have lived beneath the desert skies for centuries,’ he said to her once. ‘But now they must learn to live in the new modern world that this century brings. Things must change. The new oil wealth, which is coming in the future, will bring new friends—and enemies.’

  Chloe looked at him, sensing some deep emotion she could not begin to understand, some hidden meaning to his words, but she did not question him. He would tell her all that he wished her to know. They had met as strangers such a short time ago, and yet it was as if she had been waiting all her life for this moment.

  Chloe did not completely understand her feelings for Pasha. Perhaps it was true love—but how could she be sure when she had never experienced anything like it before? She only knew that something strange and wonderful had happened to her here in the desert. Common sense told her that she should ask him to take her back to her friends now, before it was too late—but perhaps it was already too late.

  She would not have walked away from him if she could, and she was not afraid of this feeling between them, that seemed to grow stronger with each hour that passed. Pasha was careful not to frighten her, but she sensed a growing urgency in him and knew that he was holding himself on a tight leash so as not to frighten her. His kisses were warm and deep, arousing feelings she could not control—and it was she who clung to him when he would have let her go, her lips that begged for more.

  When on the evening of the third day he told her that they would leave the next morning she was sorry.

  ‘I could stay here like this forever.’ She sighed.

  ‘No, I do not think so, my Chloe,’ he said and looked amused. ‘For a while the romance of it would appeal, but then you would grow tired of the life. You would miss the freedom you have in the West, and the benefits of the modern world. Besides, I have much I want to share with you. We shall go first to Marrakesh to speak with your friends, and then to Spain…after
that, who knows?’

  Chloe had marvelled at how easily Pasha controlled the small Avro aircraft he flew himself, but then it seemed that there was nothing he could not do. Travelling with him was a revelation. Everything was well ordered and there were no delays, no frustrations. It seemed that he clicked his fingers and people hurried to obey. He carried an aura of authority with him, and she discovered for the first time what it was like to be treated like a princess.

  Their stay in Marrakesh was brief. Chloe was taken in a large expensive car to the house where the professor and Amelia were still staying, waiting for her. They were pleased and relieved to see her back safely, but when she explained what had happened, Charles Hicks was horrified.

  ‘I never gave it a thought,’ he told her. ‘Forgive me, Chloe. I was misled by that man. I thought him a decent fellow, and imagined you would be perfectly safe and happy until I returned.’

  ‘I should have come straight back to Amelia,’ Chloe said. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Charles. I was foolish and went off without thinking—but fortunately for me, Pasha found me.’ She gave a little shiver as she recalled her nightmare ordeal and thought of what might have happened if he had not.

  ‘That is Mr Armand,’ Amelia said and nodded. ‘He spoke to me the day after you left and told me he intended to fly down and make sure you were all right. It was very fortunate that he did…’

  Chloe had forgotten that her friends knew Pasha as Philip Armand. ‘Yes, it was lucky for me. I think I should have died that day if he had not paid guides to search for me.’

  ‘And now you say you are going to stay with him at his house in Spain?’ The professor looked at her uncertainly. ‘I am not sure that I can agree to that, Chloe. Your father entrusted you to my care…’

  ‘I am twenty-two,’ Chloe reminded him. ‘I don’t need Daddy’s permission or anyone else’s to stay with someone I admire and trust. Besides, if he had not helped me, I might never have gone home at all.’