The Sheikh Page 14

  ‘So you jumped to the conclusion that they were trying to murder me?’ He smiled oddly, something flickering in his eyes. ‘Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, my darling—but they were certainly not planning to assassinate anyone. At least, not if they were the men who came here the other morning. I told you, they work for me…’

  ‘But what do they do?’ she asked. ‘What kind of work, Pasha?’

  ‘That is my business, Chloe,’ he said and the smile had gone. His expression chilled her and she knew she was treading on dangerous ground. ‘What is this—an inquisition? This is supposed to be our wedding night, remember? I don’t know what ideas you’ve got in that head of yours, but I wish you would stop looking at me as if—’ He broke and walked away from her, going outside.

  Chloe saw him walking across the grass. She was tempted to go after him and say she was sorry, to make up their argument, but something held her back. She hadn’t meant anything wrong. It was just that she had been a little anxious, in case the men were plotting to harm Pasha while pretending to be loyal. He had reacted as if she were accusing him of some crime.

  Chloe felt the coldness spearing through her, sending little chills all over her body. No! She must be mad to think of such a thing. Pasha was right to accuse her of letting her imagination run away with her. It was not possible…he would never…but what did she really know of him? He had told her nothing of that dark, closed side of him, which she had sensed from the beginning.

  Chloe felt the sickness swirl in her stomach. How could she think such a terrible thing of the man she had married that day? Pasha was her husband, and she loved him. He was gentle and kind and…there was a darker, secret side that he would not allow her to see. She could not deny its existence, much as she might have liked to pretend that it was not there.

  She knew she could never rest until she had cleared this terrible suspicion from her mind, and she followed him outside to where he stood looking out at the ocean. The sun was setting, falling into the sea like a huge orange ball about to sink beneath the restless water. There was something about that sky that made Chloe shiver—a kind of foreboding filled her.

  ‘Is that what they do for you, Pasha?’ she asked. ‘Kill people—is that why you need to hide your identity?’

  He turned to look at her then, and she was shocked by what she saw in his eyes. ‘Why did you have to be there that night?’ he asked and the bitter words shocked her. ‘Why did you have to have such an inquisitive mind?’

  ‘Pasha…’ Her heart was beating wildly and she felt slightly sick. Was he admitting that her accusations were true? ‘Please tell me I’m imagining all this!’

  ‘Would you believe me?’ he asked, and looked at her. ‘If I said that I had never found it necessary to order the execution of a man—would you trust me and forget what you’ve seen?’

  ‘I…’ She swallowed hard. ‘I want to believe it. I don’t want to believe this…this ugliness is there inside you.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ He seized her by the arms, his fingers digging into her flesh. He held her pressed close against him, his breath hot on her face. ‘Well, my darling, inquisitive wife, I’m afraid I can’t set your mind at rest. I can’t tell you that I haven’t ordered the execution of a man who kills for money, because I can’t lie to you, not when you look at me like that, Chloe. I would have preferred that you never had to know about the other side of my life, but since you insisted I shall tell you—’

  ‘No!’ she cried, shocked and sickened by this revelation. ‘I don’t want to hear this! I can’t listen…’

  She turned and ran back towards the house, her heart thumping. It was too horrible to believe—Pasha was little better than a murderer! No matter what he said, what excuse he found to explain his actions, the fact remained.

  She was horrified, and bewildered. How could the man she loved do such terrible things? It was beyond her comprehension, beyond her understanding. All she knew was that it made her feel revulsion and disgust, that at this moment she wished she had never met Pasha.

  She couldn’t stay here another moment. She had to get away—away from him, from this ugliness he had been hiding from her. Her mind was in turmoil, and she could think of nothing but the horror of what he had just said to her.

  She couldn’t live with him, couldn’t continue to let him make love to her. At least not until she had come to terms with what he had told her. She had to leave him…

  Still feeling as if her mind was whirling out of control, she began to gather the few things she would need, shoving them into her large shoulder bag. She would go home to her father. She needed time to be alone, to think about this.

  ‘Chloe!’ Pasha had come into the bedroom behind her. ‘What do you think you are doing?’

  ‘I’m packing some things.’

  ‘I can see that,’ he said. ‘But your cases have already been sent on ahead. Why are you in such a hurry to pack the last few things?’ She wouldn’t look at him, and he came to take her by the shoulders, swinging her round to look at him. She felt the anger pulsating in him, sensed that he was barely holding it in check. His fingers bit deeply into her flesh, making her whimper in fright. He looked capable of doing anything. ‘You were going to run away, weren’t you? Like you did last time…’

  Chloe raised her head, looking up at him defiantly. ‘I need to be alone for a while.’

  ‘No!’ he cried. ‘I won’t let you leave me. I can’t…’

  ‘Why? Because I know too much?’ Her eyes widened in sudden shock. ‘Is that why you married me, Pasha? So that you could control me? So that I could never go into a courtroom and accuse you of being involved in a murder?’

  For a moment she thought he might kill her. He was so angry, so furious that she had dared to defy him.

  ‘You little fool,’ he said. ‘If you think that…but no matter. Chloe, you are my wife. You belong to me, and I don’t let go of what I own.’

  ‘You don’t own me!’ she cried. ‘I can divorce you—’

  ‘Just try it,’ he said, and his eyes narrowed to icy slits. ‘I warned you, Chloe, and now I’m telling you again. I shall never let you go. You are mine and I intend to keep you as my wife—my only wife. We were married in your church, and that means you are committed as much as I am. I can’t see your father or your grandmother thinking kindly of you if you go running back the moment you’re married, can you?’

  Chloe bit her lip. She could just imagine what Lady Margaret would say to her behaviour.

  ‘I’m old enough to do as I please.’

  ‘But you are not free,’ Pasha reminded her. His expression terrified her; his eyes were so cold, his face implacable. ‘I’ve told you I won’t let you go and I meant it.’

  ‘Supposing I leave you anyway?’

  ‘Then I shall fetch you back,’ he said. ‘Force me and I’ll take you to a place where you can’t just run off when you please. My father’s casbah is a remote fort in the Atlas Mountains. You would have little chance of making it back to civilisation on your own from there, Chloe. Remember what happened the last time?’

  His reference to her ordeal in the desert made her angry for a moment. He was smiling—oh, he was heartless! How could he smile after what she had endured? Then she saw that though the smile in his eyes seemed to tease, beneath it was a genuine concern for her and despite herself she felt the pull of his charm, the longing for him to kiss her and make love to her beginning deep at the pit of her stomach. For a moment she thought that he would scoop her up and throw her to the bed, that he would force her to respond to his demands and she trembled. For how long could she resist?

  ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said and swung away from him. Surprisingly he let her go. ‘Just let me leave, Pasha. It will be better for both of us.’

  ‘No. I’ve told you, that is out of the question.’

  ‘So what are we going to do?’

  ‘We are married,’ he told her. ‘That means we stay together, whether you like it
or not. I shall take you to meet my family, and you will take me to your home as we’d planned.’

  ‘And after that?’ Chloe asked him. She had herself in control now, the moment of weakness passed. ‘Don’t imagine I’m going to be a wife to you, Pasha. You can force me to stay with you for a while—but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you make love to me.’

  ‘Indeed?’ He moved closer, and his masculine strength was very evident as he towered over her. Once again she sensed he was close to breaking, that only an effort of will prevented him from using his superior strength to compel her to obey. ‘Supposing I’m not willing to take no for an answer?’

  Chloe gave a little yelp of fear and stepped back. She looked at him, her eyes wide with distress. ‘You—you wouldn’t force me?’

  For a moment as he looked at her, nostrils flared, eyes dark with some emotion that she imagined was anger, she thought that it was exactly what he meant to do, but then he turned away, walking to a little coffee table and opening the cigarette box. She watched in fascination as he took one of the exotic flat tubes and lit it; they were Turkish cigarettes and it was only the second time since they had been here that she had seen Pasha light one.

  ‘I didn’t think you smoked,’ she said for want of something else to say.

  ‘I don’t often.’ He turned his gaze on her and she was shocked by the coldness in his black eyes. ‘So we are agreed then. You won’t try to leave me, and you will go through the motions of being happily married, providing I don’t touch you intimately.’

  Chloe swallowed hard. She felt the full force of his dominance and knew she could not deny him. ‘It doesn’t look as if I’ve much choice, does it?’

  ‘No. Neither of us have,’ he said. ‘I refuse to be made a fool of in public, Chloe. If you whisper a word of this to anyone you will be sorry—and that includes your family and that scatty friend of yours.’

  ‘Justine isn’t scatty,’ Chloe said. ‘She’s just impulsive and full of fun… She didn’t mean to spill that drink over you. If you hadn’t been standing so close to us, it wouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘A lot of things might not have happened then,’ Pasha said and there was a bitter note in his voice.

  ‘No. I am very sorry,’ Chloe said in a small voice.

  She wasn’t sure why she was apologising, after all, he was the one to blame, the one who had lied and deceived her—and yet she felt as if she had done something terrible, as if she had destroyed something beautiful, irreplaceable.

  ‘Yes, I expect you are,’ Pasha replied. ‘I am going out for a while. You will be all right here alone?’

  ‘Yes…yes, of course,’ she said, her eyes stinging with the tears she was refusing to shed.

  The weeping didn’t start until Pasha had walked out and she heard his car starting up outside. She sank down on one of the luxurious sofas, and buried her head in her hands as a storm of grief overcame her. It had all been so sudden, and she felt bereft, as if she had lost a part of herself.

  For the past three weeks she had spent every moment, both waking and sleeping, with Pasha and it was unbearably lonely without him. What was she going to do? Should she just walk out of the house and try to find somewhere to stay until she could get on a ship going home? Pasha had arranged a private plane to take them first to Paris for a couple of days and then to England.

  She had enough money in her bag to buy her a ticket on a ship, but what was the point? Pasha would come after her. He would find her either before she managed to get on the ship or when she left it. His arrogance in leaving her alone told her that he was quite confident that she couldn’t escape him.

  It would be foolish to try too soon, Chloe realised. If she wanted to have a chance of making her escape work, she would have to wait until Pasha was less suspicious. Besides, she owed him something for saving her life. It would seem very strange if she left him immediately after they were married—and she couldn’t tell anyone the truth.

  Chloe acknowledged that when she did eventually leave Pasha she would have to invent an excuse for the break-up of her marriage. She could never tell anyone the real reason why she had turned away from him, because that would be a terrible betrayal of confidence.

  Pasha had not wanted to tell her anything about the darker side of his life. Chloe had forced it out of him, and in the end he had told her it all—or sufficient to shock her into saying the things she had. She wished with all her heart that she could go back, that she need not know. She did not want to know that Pasha had committed murder—if not with his own hands, by ordering the death of his uncle’s political enemies.

  Chloe wasn’t so naïve that she didn’t know these things were done. She had read between the lines in the newspapers often enough to realise that governments found it necessary to turn a blind eye when a political assassination took place and perhaps it was necessary at times.

  But she didn’t want to be married to someone who could contemplate taking a life without turning a hair. She had never suspected that Pasha was involved in such things, and she was sure that she would never have fallen in love with him if she had.

  But did it make him a different person? Chloe’s thoughts were whirling in utter confusion as she fought to come to terms with the distress and horror her discovery had brought her.

  She couldn’t still be in love with him, she couldn’t! It wasn’t possible to love someone—not when you knew he was very different from the man you had imagined.

  Chloe left the house and walked down to the edge of the cliff. She stood watching the restless sea. It hurt terribly to know that Pasha wasn’t the man she had believed him, but she was determined to fight her feelings of despair.

  She would go through the motions of being a happy bride as he had demanded, and then, one day when he was away on business, she would simply disappear.

  Running down to the beach, Chloe took a quick swim in the sea, then returned to the house. All this luxury! Where did Pasha’s money come from? Was he paid blood money for arranging a man’s death?

  She shivered with distaste, and thought of all the presents he had given her. Suddenly they felt tainted, and she wished she could throw them back at him, that she could make him see how evil what he was doing really was.

  But they were a part of being his wife, and for the moment she had to go along with the bargain he had forced on her. She had to let his family and hers believe she was thrilled to be Pasha’s wife.

  She brushed her hair, slipped into a nightgown and went to bed in the spare bedroom, but she didn’t lock the door. If Pasha came to her, if he forced her, she would leave him the first chance she got and not care whether it caused him to lose face or not!

  Pasha looked at the empty bed in the room they had shared only the previous night, and his expression was bleak. He cursed himself for throwing the truth at her so abruptly. He was a damned fool! He should either have lied to her…or explained properly.

  Pride had made him react as he had—his damnable pride! How could he have hurt her? He had seen the horror in those innocent eyes, the way they widened in disbelief and then darkened with disgust and the way she had shrunk from his touch.

  His Chloe. The beautiful, innocent girl he had adored had gone in that instant. He knew that he had destroyed something wonderful. Even if he forced her to stay with him, which he had every intention of doing, even then, he could never bring back that naïve, trusting look to her lovely face.

  She thought that she wasn’t pretty, but she had a deep inner loveliness that he had sensed would blossom into real beauty with time. When they met she had been so young for her age, still almost a schoolgirl in her attitudes to life and love. It had delighted him to teach her what being a woman was all about, and she had responded with such honesty, such natural delight that he had fallen deeper and deeper in love with her.

  And now, because of his pride, that had all gone. He could try to win her back, and he fully intended to do so. There was no way he was going to let her lea
ve him; even if she never came to him with love in her eyes again, he couldn’t let her go.

  For one thing, she would never be entirely safe without his protection. Pasha had too many enemies. He knew that his wife would need to be protected wherever she went, because there was always the chance that someone might try to kill her as revenge against him.

  He lit another cigarette as he went outside and sat on the patio, staring at the sky as the dawn started to break beyond the mountains. Perhaps he had been unfair to Chloe, bringing her here and seducing her…marrying her.

  He had grown used to living with the threat of assassination. He had been fifteen when the first attempt was made on his life, and only the quick thinking of one of the teachers at his school had saved him that time. There had been other attempts since, but he’d dealt with them himself.

  It was after that first attempt that his uncle had decided it would be best for Pasha to change his name, so that he would be free to live without the constant fear of the assassin’s knife.

  Pasha had vowed as a child that he would be revenged on the man who had killed his father, but it had taken all this time to find and trace that man—and it had only happened after the attempt on his uncle’s life.

  It had come as a shock to learn that one of Hassan’s own people had been involved in the plot to kill him…a cousin who believed that with the prince dead he might be able to snatch power, and the wealth that went with that power.

  That man had to die. He had been judged guilty in a court of law in Hassan’s own state, but he had eluded the punishment and escaped. Hassan had asked Pasha to find him and arrange for his execution.