“I will go see him now. He became very ill a few months ago. Maidi pulled him through, but he has not been strong since. I fear he will not live long,” Rashid said flatly.
Philip saw his brother out and stayed at the entrance staring into the camp. What kind of man was he, Christina wondered, that he could so casually hear that his father was dying? What kind of man could turn away a fortune in jewels as if they were ordinary stones? Would she ever understand this man who had made her his mistress? Did she want to understand him?
Slowly Philip turned around, raising both hands to brush back the hair that had fallen into his face. Christina could read the sadness in his dark-green eyes.
So—he did feel pain after all. Suddenly she wanted to go to him and put her arms around him. She wanted to wipe away his sadness. What was the matter with her? She hated him. Besides, he would only laugh at her.
“I think it’s time you met the people of my tribe,” he said quietly, crossing the tent to stand before her. He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face to his. “That is—if you have nothing better to do.”
“My sewing can wait,” she replied.
Philip’s hand dropped to her tiny waist as she stood up. They were standing only a few inches apart, and his nearness made Christina’s pulse beat warmly. She felt herself melting, losing control. She hated his effect on her. She had to say something to break the mood between them.
“Do you wish to go now, Your Highness?” she said sarcastically.
“There is no Highness here, Tina. I told you to call me Philip.” His hand tightened on her waist.
“Yes sir, Your Highness,” she returned demurely.
“Enough!” he roared. “If you want me to turn you over my knee and wale the vindictiveness out of your hide, then you may persist. Otherwise, go put your slippers on.”
Christina didn’t wait around to find out if Philip would carry out his threat. She scurried into the bedroom and, finding her slippers under the bed, donned them quickly and came back into the main room.
Philip, with a hand on the small of Christina’s back, escorted her outside. They stopped at the first of the tents to the left of theirs.
“Said, are you there?” Philip called from outside.
“Come in, Abu. You do me honor to visit my home,” a short, sturdy man said, opening the entrance of his tent.
When they entered, Christina saw that the whole family seemed to be present. The women were on one side of the tent: one kneading dough, another on the floor feeding a baby, and an older woman preparing meat. The men sat on the opposite side cleaning their rifles and an assortment of knives.
“This is Christina Wakefield,” Philip said to the group at large. They all stared at her. “Christina, this is my old friend Said, and his wife, Maidi.” He motioned to the old woman preparing the meat. “Maidi takes care of my father, now that he’s ill, and also prepares our food. The young woman on the right is her daughter, Nura.”
Christina’s eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful dark-haired girl who looked no older than she. She thought she saw hostility in Nura’s eyes, and remembered she had hoped to become Philip’s wife.
“And the young woman with her babies is her sister-in-law, Amine.”
Christina returned the smile of the dark, pretty girl who seemed to be in her early twenties. She was the one who had brought their food yesterday and whose skirt and blouse Christina was wearing. Perhaps Christina could become friends with her if given the chance.
“These are Maidi’s sons—Ahmad, Saadi, and Syed, Amine’s husband,” Philip finished.
Each of the sons nodded in turn. Christina recognized Ahmad and Saadi as the two young men who had helped Philip kidnap her. Syed was Philip’s age and had a long scar running down his right cheek.
“I am very pleased to meet all of you,” Christina said.
“It is we who are honored to meet you, Christina Wakefield,” Said returned, smiling warmly at her. “I can see why Sheik Abu went to so much trouble to bring you here. You have a most unusual beauty.”
“You flatter me, Said, but I—”
Philip cut her off. “It was no trouble at all, as Ahmad and Saadi can attest to, but Christina still has to meet your brothers, so we’ll be going.” He pushed Christina from the tent.
“I understand. Another time perhaps,” Said called after them, looking disconcerted.
Christina turned on Philip with her hands on her hips, eyes flashing angrily.
“Why did you cut me off like that?” she demanded.
“You’d better lower your voice if you know what’s good for you, Tina. I wasn’t teasing when I warned you that we beat our women for showing disrespect,” Philip said harshly. “I cut you off because you were about to say that you were here against your will. Everyone here already knows that. But if you had said so in public, it would have been an embarrassment to me. A good lashing is probably just what you need to tame you down.” Philip grasped her shoulder roughly.
“No!” Christina gasped, pulling away from him. “I’ll be good, I—I promise!” she said frantically, her whole body trembling.
“Christina, stop it,” Philip demanded softly. “I’m not going to beat you now. You haven’t pushed me that far yet.”
He took her in his arms and held her tenderly until she stopped shaking. She would never be able to comprehend this man. One minute he threatened to beat her, and the next, he was holding her with tenderness and love.
Love? Why did she think of that? Philip didn’t love her. He only wanted her. And love and wanting were as different as night and day. She could never hope to leave this place unless his heart softened toward her and he let her go, as his father had released his mother.
“Are you all right now, Tina?” he inquired huskily, lifting her face up to his.
“Yes,” Christina replied softly, without opening her eyes.
He took her then to meet Said’s two brothers and their large families. Christina noticed that all the young women watched Philip with longing in their eyes. So Rashid was right, she thought. They had all hoped to win Philip’s attentions before he brought her all the way from England to flaunt in front of them. They all must hate her—and Nura most of all.
That afternoon, Christina finished the skirt she had been making, and was quite pleased with her work. She had fashioned the skirt after the one she was wearing, using a pale-green silk and trimming it around the hem with dark-green lace.
She could wear the green silk skirt with Amine’s dark-green blouse while she worked on a matching top. She had decided it would be faster to make simple skirts and blouses first, instead of dresses. She didn’t care if the clothes she made were too fine for camp life. Christina enjoyed wearing beautiful clothes. They made her feel good, wherever she was.
Before dinner, Philip came to take Christina to bathe, with a knife strapped to his leg for protection. He joined her in the warm water but didn’t try to touch her this time.
After bathing, Christina donned her new skirt. But Philip only commented, “You’re fast with your hands, Tina.”
Rashid joined them for dinner, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off Christina all evening. His attentions annoyed Philip, so she retired early, leaving the two brothers to discuss tribal affairs. When Philip came to bed later, she feigned sleep, expecting him to try to take her again. But he only pulled her to him and presently fell asleep.
IN THE SLOW days that followed, Christina and Philip fell into a routine. He took all his meals with her, but left her to herself during the morning and afternoon. He took her to the pond to bathe each evening before dinner and stayed with her after the meal, cleaning his weapons, reading, or just meditating.
Each night Philip made love to her, and each night she fought him until her passions overcame her resistance and swept her away. Christina could not deny that his lovemaking gave her pleasure, but that only made her hate Philip more than ever.
Philip made her feel strangely mixed emoti
ons. She was nervous whenever he was near. She could never predict what he would do next. He made her lose control of herself, sending her into a fit of anger and then turning that anger to fear. And she was afraid of him, for she really believed he would beat her if she provoked him too far.
A week had passed since Philip had brought Christina to his camp. With nothing else to do, she had completed the green silk blouse and two more skirts, but she was tired of sewing. She was tired of being inside the tent all day long, every day.
Philip had left without a word right after breakfast that morning. She knew he was angry with her for not telling him why she had cried the night before. How could she tell him she cried because her body deceived her? She had been so determined to be unmoved by his caresses and to lie placidly beneath him. But Philip patiently brought her to life, snatching away her will as he did every night.
But Philip was not satisfied by breaking her down once. He had asserted his power over her again, mercilessly, and she had loved every minute of it. But when he was finished with her and rolled to his side of the bed, she started to cry.
When Philip tried to comfort her, she just cried harder and told him to leave her alone. She was disgusted with herself for enjoying the act, more than angry at him. But when she wouldn’t explain herself, he became coldly angry. Christina cried until she finally fell asleep.
Now, as the morning wore on, Christina felt stifled by inactivity. She put her sewing aside and walked to the entrance of the tent. The sunlight looked so inviting as it filtered through the juniper trees that Christina forgot her fear of Philip’s reaction to her leaving the tent. She meandered toward the corral, basking in the warmth of the sun.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Philip. He was in the large corral with Ahmad, who was astride a beautiful Arabian horse. The other horses were grazing peacefully on the hillside with the sheep. Bravely she continued walking. When she reached the corral fence, the horse shied away.
Philip turned to see what was bothering the animal, and his eyes narrowed menacingly when he spied her. He soothed the horse, then came to her with quick strides.
“What are you doing here?” Philip asked angrily. “I gave you no permission to leave the tent.”
Christina fought to control her rising anger.
“I couldn’t stand it another minute in that tent, Philip. I’m not used to being confined. I need to feel the sun and breathe the morning air. Can’t I stay here and watch you? I’m interested in what you do every day,” she lied.
“I train these horses, among other things,” he said.
“What for?” Christina asked, stalling for more time.
“Do you really want to know, Christina? Or are you playing at another game?”
“I can’t win the game when you are the opponent, as you well know,” she pouted. “I’d really like to know how you train your horses.”
“Very well. What would you like to know?”
“What are you training them to do?”
“To follow directions with the pressure of the knees and not the hands. Sometimes our hands are not free to direct the reins, as in battle or after a raid. Also it serves another purpose, for our horses cannot be stolen unless they are led away. They will not carry a rider who uses the reins to direct them.”
“That’s ingenious,” Christina said, her interest growing. “But how do you teach the horses these pressures?”
“The horse is led in a certain direction, say to the left, while the rider uses the pressure for that direction. We continue with one direction at a time until the horse learns it.”
“How do you stop the horse?”
“Since we don’t ride with saddles, we use our feet to stop him by digging them into his sides. Are you satisfied now?”
“Yes. May I stay and watch you for a while?” she asked meekly.
“If you are quiet and don’t disturb the horse,” he said. He looked at her quizzically for a long moment before walking away.
So—she had won. She was free of that damnable tent for a while. Christina let her mind wander while keeping her soft, blue-green eyes on Philip.
How she wished that she were astride that beautiful animal. Perhaps she could persuade Philip to let her ride one of his horses or, better yet, give her an untrained horse. It wouldn’t be like riding Dax freely through the lush green fields of home, but it would be better than not riding at all.
Christina suddenly realized that she was thinking of a future in this camp. Oh damn, why didn’t John rescue her? But John probably thought her dead already. She had to find a way to escape, but she couldn’t go alone. She must have a guide to help her cross the desert and protect her from outlaw tribes. She must have food, water, horses.
Could she wait until Philip tired of her? How long would that be? And Philip might not send her to her brother when he no longer wanted her. He might sell her as a slave for someone’s harem.
Perhaps she could persuade Philip to let her go if she made him fall in love with her! But how could she manage to win him over when he knew she hated him? Besides, he had told her he only desired her body.
“Christina.”
She looked up into Philip’s smiling green eyes.
“I called you twice. You have a strange way of showing that you’re interested in what I do.”
“I’m sorry,” Christina smiled back at him. “I was just thinking of my horse, Dax, and how I would love to be out riding.”
“Did you ride often at your home?”
“Oh yes! Every day, for long hours at a time,” she said enthusiastically.
They walked back to the tent, where steaming dishes of porridge, rice, and sweetmeats were on the table for their midday meal. There was a pot of tea for Christina and a fresh skin of wine for Philip.
“I’ll be leaving the camp this afternoon for a while,” Philip mentioned as they sat down to eat. “I’ll leave Ahmad to guard the tent while I’m gone. It is for your protection that you’re guarded, nothing else.”
“But where are you going?”
“On a ghazw,” he said irritably.
She had obviously hit on something Philip didn’t want to talk about. But her woman’s curiosity wouldn’t let her stop.
“A ghazw? What’s that?”
“Christina, must you always ask so many questions of me?” Philip’s voice was edged with anger, making her shiver despite the warmth. “It’s a raid, if you must know. Syed spotted a caravan this morning. Since our food supply is getting low, we’ll take what we need to hold us over for a while. Does that answer your question, or is there something else you’d like to know?”
“You can’t be serious!” Christina was appalled. She stopped eating and looked into his cold green eyes. “Why can’t you buy what you need? Rashid had all those jewels you turned down. You must have wealth of your own. Why must you steal from other people?”
Philip stood and faced her, the yellow flecks in his green eyes disappearing as he looked at her wrathfully.
“I will not stand for your questioning my actions anymore, Christina. I will tell you once, and once only. Raiding is the way of my people. We rob to survive as we have always done. We take only what we need. I have no wealth here, because I have no need of it. Rashid has a grievance against me that I understand, so I don’t curb his greed for riches. What he steals, I let him keep. Do not question me about it again!”
He turned on his heel and stormed from the tent. Christina was shaken. She felt as if she were hopelessly falling into a bottomless pit.
Philip was an outlaw! No doubt he killed men mercilessly when he went on raids. He probably enjoyed killing! And she—Christina Wakefield—was at his mercy.
Christina shivered uncontrollably, thinking of the rage he had just shown. Would he kill her if she pushed him too far? He was an outlaw, and she knew where his camp was. Would Philip ever let her go with that kind of knowledge?
She heard horses galloping out of the camp. He was off to pillage
and plunder and only God knew what else, Christina thought. She couldn’t live with this new fear. She had to know what he intended to do with her. If she was to die, then she wanted to know it.
Walking quickly to the entrance of the tent, she found Ahmad sitting on the ground outside the entrance. He was meticulously cleaning a long silver sword with a curved handle.
“Ahmad,” she ventured slowly, “may I ask you a question?”
He looked at her strangely.
“It is not right. Women do not ask questions. It is not their place.”
This was too much. These people were barbaric!
“But Ahmad, I was not raised as your women are. I was brought up to be equal to men, can’t you understand that? I just wanted to know if Abu ever brought another woman here before me,” she said, hoping he would just think her jealous.
Ahmad grinned. “No, you are the first woman Sheik Abu has ever brought to camp.”
“Thank you, Ahmad,” she smiled back at him.
Going back into the tent, Christina paced the floor. That was no help at all. If there had been another woman, Christina might have discovered what had happened to her after Philip tired of her. Now she would have to face Philip with the question that was tormenting her. She prayed he would be in a better mood when he returned.
THE SUN WAS still above the horizon when they reached the foot of the mountains. They rode hard now, for the caravan was many miles away. Philip hoped this wasn’t a slaver’s caravan, for they usually carried little food.
Damn that woman and her curiosity! How could she so easily make him lose control? He had always prided himself on his cool reactions toward women—until he’d met Christina!
She’d angered him the night before by refusing to tell him why she was crying. He couldn’t understand it. She had never cried before after making love.
Would he ever understand her? Christina continued to fight him each night, but he knew she enjoyed his lovemaking. Why did she fight what was so pleasurable?
When she came to the corral this morning, he knew her feigned interest was only an excuse to leave the tent. But could he blame her? He’d have done the same thing. He was positive she wouldn’t try to escape again, she feared him too much. Perhaps he could trust her enough to give her the freedom of the camp.