“We’re not lucky, we’re intelligent. And the Knights Templar are foolish beyond belief if they think you would betray them. It makes me angry every time I think of it. Now drink your wine and enjoy this evening. We’ve made a new life and everything is fine.”
He lifted his cup. “Then why are you letting the fact that your sister is smiling prettily at Lord Douglas upset you?”
“Because Kadar hasn’t taken his eyes off her all evening.” Her gaze returned to her sister. Selene’s pale-gold silk gown made her dark red hair glow with hidden fires, and her green eyes shone with vitality—and recklessness. The little devil knew exactly what she was doing, Thea thought crossly. Selene was impulsive at times, but this was not such an occasion. Her every action tonight was meant to provoke Kadar. “And I didn’t invite the entire countryside to see your splendid new castle so that she could expose them to mayhem.”
“Tell her. Selene loves you. She won’t want you unhappy.”
“I will.” She rose to her feet and strode down the hall toward the great hearth, before which Selene was holding court. Ware was right: Selene might be willful, but she had a tender heart. She would never intentionally hurt anyone she loved. All Thea had to do was confront her sister, express her distress, and the problem would be solved.
Maybe.
“Don’t stop her, Thea.”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Kadar behind her. He had been leaning against the far pillar only seconds ago, but she was accustomed to the swift silence of his movements.
“Stop her?” She smiled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“And don’t lie to me either.” Kadar’s lips tightened. “I’m a little too bad-tempered tonight to deal in pretense.” He took her arm and led her toward the nearest corner of the hall. “And you’ve never done it well. You’re burdened with a pure and honest soul.”
“And I suppose you’re the devil himself.”
He smiled. “Only a disciple.”
“Nonsense.”
“Well, perhaps only half devil. I’ve never been able to convince you of my sinful character. You never wanted to see that side of me.”
“You’re kind and generous and our very dear friend.”
“Oh, yes, which proves what good judgment you have.”
“And arrogant, stubborn, and with no sense of humility.”
He inclined his head. “But I’ve the virtue of patience, my lady, which should outweigh all my other vices.”
“Stop mocking.” She turned to face him. “You’re angry with Selene.”
“Am I?”
“You know you are. You’ve been watching her all evening.”
“And you’ve been watching me.” One side of his lips lifted in a half smile. “I was wondering whether you’d decide to attack me or Selene.”
“I have no intention of attacking anyone.” She stared directly into his eyes. “Do you?”
“Not at the moment. I’ve just told you how patient I am.”
Relief surged through her. “She doesn’t mean anything. She’s just amusing herself.”
“She means something.” He glanced back toward the hearth. “She means to torment and hurt me and drive me to the edge.” His tone was without expression. “She does it very well, doesn’t she?”
“It’s your fault. Why don’t you offer for her? You know Ware and I have wanted the two of you to wed for this past year. Selene is ten and seven. It’s past time she had a husband.”
“I’m flattered you’d consider a humble bastard like myself worthy of her.”
“You are not flattered. You know your own worth.”
“Of course, but the world would say it was a poor match. Selene is a lady of a fine house now.”
“Only because you helped us escape from the Holy Land and start again. Selene was a slave in the House of Nicholas and only a child when you bought her freedom as a favor to me. She was destined to spend her life embroidering his splendid silks and being given to his customers for their pleasure. You saved her, Kadar. Do you think she would ever look at another man if you let her come close to you?”
“Don’t interfere, Thea.”
“I will interfere. You know better. She’s worshipped you since she was a child of eleven.”
“Worship? She’s never worshipped me. She knows me too well.” He smiled. “You may not believe in my devilish qualities, but she does. She’s always known what I am. Just as I’ve always known what she is.”
“She’s a hardworking, honest, loving woman who needs a husband.”
“She’s more than that. She’s extraordinary, the light in my darkness. And she’s still not ready for me.”
“Ready? Most women her age have children already.”
“Most women haven’t suffered as she suffered. It scarred her. I can wait until she heals.”
“But can she?” Thea glanced toward the hearth again. Oh, God, Selene was no longer there.
“It’s all right. She and Lord Douglas just left the hall and went out into the courtyard.”
How had he known that? Sometimes it seemed Kadar had eyes in the back of his head.
“Kadar, don’t—”
He bowed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and bring her back.”
“Kadar, I won’t have violence this night.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t shed blood on the fine new rushes you put down on the floor.” He moved toward the courtyard. “But the stones of the courtyard wash up quite nicely.”
“Kadar!”
“Don’t follow me, Thea.” His voice was soft but inflexible. “Stay out of it. This is what she wants, what she’s tried to goad me to all evening. Don’t you realize that?”
Where was Kadar? Selene wondered impatiently. She had been out here a good five minutes and he still hadn’t appeared. She didn’t know how long she could keep Lord Douglas from taking her back to the hall. He was a boring, stodgy young man and had been shocked when she’d suggested going out to the courtyard. “It’s a fine night. I do feel much better now that I’ve had a breath of air.”
Lord Douglas looked uneasy. “Then perhaps we should go back inside. Lord Ware would not like us being out here alone. It’s not fitting.”
“In a moment.” Where was he? She had felt his gaze on her all evening. He would have seen—
“The Saracen was watching us,” Lord Douglas said. “I’m sure he will tell Lord Ware.”
“Saracen?” Her gaze flew to his face. “What Saracen?”
“Kadar Ben Arnaud. Isn’t he a Saracen? That’s what they call him.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
He shrugged. “Everyone.”
“Kadar’s mother was Armenian, his father a Frank.”
He nodded. “A Saracen.”
She should be amused that he had put Kadar, who could never be labeled, in a tight little niche. She was not amused. She fiercely resented the faint patronizing note in his voice. “Why not call him a Frank like his father? Why a Saracen?”
“He just seems . . . He’s not like us.”
No more than a panther was like a sheep or a glittering diamond like a moss-covered rock, she thought furiously. “Kadar belongs here. My sister and her husband regard him as a brother.”
“Surely not.” He looked faintly shocked. “Though I’m sure he’s good at what he does. These Saracens are supposed to be fine seamen, and he does your silk trading, doesn’t he?”
She wanted to slap him. “Kadar does more than captain our ship. He’s a part of Montdhu. We’re proud and fortunate to have him here.”
“I didn’t mean to make you—”
She lost track of what he was saying.
Kadar was coming.
She had known he would follow her, but Selene still smothered a leap of excitement as she caught sight of him in the doorway. He was moving slowly, deliberately, almost leisurely down the stairs. This was not good. That wasn’t the response she wanted from him. She took a step closer to Lord Douglas and swayed
. “I believe I still feel a little faint.”
He instinctively put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Perhaps I should call the lady Thea.”
“No, just stay—”
“Good evening, Lord Douglas.” Kadar was coming toward them. “I believe it’s a little cool out here for Selene. Why don’t you go fetch her cloak?”
“We were just going in,” Lord Douglas said quickly. “Lady Selene felt a little faint and we—”
“Faint?” Kadar’s brows lifted as he paused beside them. “She appears quite robust to me.”
He’s not like us, Douglas had said.
No, he wasn’t like any of these men who had come to honor Ware tonight. He was like no one Selene had ever met. Now, standing next to heavyset, red-faced Lord Douglas, the differences were glaringly apparent. Kadar’s dark eyes dominated a bronze, comely face that could reflect both humor and intelligence. He was tall, his powerful body deceptively lean, with a grace and confidence the other man lacked. But the differences were not only on the surface. Kadar was as deep and unfathomable as the night sky, and it was no wonder these simple fools could not understand how exceptional he was.
“She was ill,” Lord Douglas repeated.
“But I’m sure she feels better now.” Kadar paused. “So you may remove your hand from her shoulder.”
Selene felt a surge of fierce satisfaction. This was better. Kadar’s tone was soft, but so was the growl of a tiger before it pounced.
Evidently Lord Douglas didn’t miss the threat. He snatched his hand away as if burned. “She was afraid she would—”
“Selene is afraid of nothing.” He smiled at Selene. “Though she should be.”
AND THE DESERT BLOOMS
A Bantam Book
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Loveswept edition published January 1986
Bantam mass market edition / January 2009
Published by Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 1985 by Iris Johansen
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Bantam Books and the rooster colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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www.bantamdell.com
eISBN: 978-0-553-90640-0
v3.0
Iris Johansen, And the Desert Blooms
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