Close to the Heart

by Rebecca Stratton

  He turned away quickly and walked back to the table, standing with his back to the light and one hand running through his hair. It was impossible to judge his feelings from what she could see of his face, but that gesture with his hand through his hair seemed to suggest he was less perfectly composed than his voice implied.

  'You are doubtless familiar with this kind of situation/ he said, and quite incredibly seemed to believe it. 'But it is something I had not meant to happen, and I am sorry that I allowed it to.'

  Lisa stared at him, finding it hard to believe that he really was more concerned with his own lack of self-control than with the effect he had had on her emotions; and she hated him for a moment for judging her so inaccurately. She had never before been so affected by a single kiss, and yet he seemed quite unaware of how he had shaken her.

  The back of one hand to her lips, Lisa stared across at him for a moment or two, then shook her head slowly. 'Do you honestly believe I take that sort of thing in my stride?' she demanded huskily. 'Do you see me as promiscuous as well as—as militant and—and all the other unfeminine vices you attribute to me?'

  Her reproach seemed to puzzle him, for he was frowning slightly and his dark eyes looked curious. 'I cannot believe you have never been kissed before,' he said, and she noticed that his own voice was deep and husky. 'You are not so inexperienced, surely.'

  Lisa tried to think of some way to tell him the truth. But how would he understand that the brief, light

  caresses that so often followed an evening out bore no resemblance at all to the violent assault on her emotions that he had just subjected her to? So instead of trying to explain, she turned and opened the door.

  'You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth/ she said in a small and very unsteady voice.

  But as she turned to close the door behind her, she glanced across at the tall, lean figure standing with his back to the window, and her heart quickened urgently in response to the look she saw in his eyes. A deep glowing darkness that was almost as affecting as the burning fierceness of his mouth had been.

  'Oh, but I think that perhaps I might, ma ch&re made-moiselle,' he told her softly. And Lisa quickly closed the door against the smile that touched his mouth with such sensual warmth it made her heart turn over.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lisa was still trying to decide what to make for the evening meal when Ali poked his head around the galley door, and it was automatic to smile in response to his white-toothed beam. Encouraged by her smile, he came across and stood beside her while she went on preparing vegetables, although she did not know what she would do with them yet.

  Almost certainly, she thought, Ali would be included with the rest of the crew in the ban on fraternisation, so she assumed he was there on Yusuf s instructions. It was that made her eye him suspiciously after her initial greeting. 'Are you here to make sure I do my job properly?' she asked. 'Or wasn't the tajin up to the standard expected on the D/enoun?'

  Ali's grimace could have meant anything, but he fcughed a second later, his eyes twinkling good-naturedly. The tajin was very good for a '

  'Were you going to say a foreigner or an amateur?' Lisa guessed ruefully. 'I don't mind you being honest about it, Ali, but I hope the crew blame their boss if they don't like what they get. I didn't ask for the job!'

  'Monsieur ben Dacra has said that I should help for a little time/ Ali told her, and was seemingly very willing to comply with the instruction, judging by his smile. 'With my help you will soon be first-class cook, mademoiselle.'

  'I don't mean to stay long enough to get much practice/ Lisa informed him swiftly, and turned to face him. 'You can tell Mr ben Dacra that I don't intend to take a course in Cordon Bleu cooking because I'm not staying!'

  Ali looked a little taken aback at her vehemence, and Lisa realised she was being rather unfair, taking it out on Ali when it was his employer who was at fault. 'Do you not wish me to help you, mademoiselle?' He could be as appealing as a puppy when he looked as he did now, and Lisa's heart relented. 'I am very good at cooking/ he insisted earnestly.

  *Yes, I'm sure you are/ Lisa smiled.

  'My grandpdre was a French chef—very good; very famous!'

  'Was he?' She looked suitably impressed, and Ali, satisfied that he was making headway, took up another knife and began helping to prepare the vegetables. 'I thought you were Moroccan, Ali, I didn't know you were partly French too/

  Tou know about Monsieur ben Dacra?'

  Lisa nodded, casting him a curious glance from the corner of her eye. 'Why? Is it supposed to be a secret?' She remembered that Geoffrey had found out only later about Yusuf s real father.

  Ali shrugged. 'No, but not all people know. He looks as if he were Moroccan only, yes? And when he is wearing the djellaba '

  'I've seen him in the djellaba/ Lisa told him, and Ali's face split into a broad grin, as if something amused him hugely.

  'Ah, ou// he said. *When Monsieur ben Dacra make you come aboard again at Bouli, eh V

  'I didn't find it particularly funny!'

  He immediately sobered, but there was still a lurking mischief in his eyes, and Lisa guessed he would have enjoyed the sight of her being dragged ignominiously aboard the Djenoun by his employer. There seemed to be a streak of cruelty in Ali just as there was in Yusuf ben Dacra and she found it equally unacceptable in both of them.

  They worked silently for a while, then she happened to catch his eye, and Ali smiled. That dazzling, crooked-toothed smile that was irresistible. 'You going to let me teach you to cook?' he asked, and Lisa pulled a face.

  'I suppose so/ she agreed. 'Since your grandpdre was a famous chef, it seems a pity to waste the opportunity/

  One eyelid fluttered briefly in a suggestion of a wink and he was smiling again. 'I have a little French, a little Spanish and a lot of Moroccan, mademoiselle, but like Monsieur ben Dacra, I choose to be Moroccan/

  'On the contrary, you're nothing like Mr ben Dacra/ Lisa assured him, and left him in no doubt that she had paid him a compliment. 'I don't like domineering, ruthless tyrants like your Monsieur ben Dacra, and I mean to give him the slip the moment I get the chance!'

  'You do not like him V

  The fact seemed to puzzle him, and Lisa wondered why. 'Is he so universally popular, then?' she countered. 'I can't imagine why! *

  'Ladies like him/ Ali told her with a wicked roll of his eyes.

  'And how about him?' Lisa asked, playing along for the moment. 'Does he like the ladies?'

  'Oh, but yes!' Ali agreed, with more eye-rolling and a broad beaming smile. 'But Monsieur ben Dacra is discreet, you understand. Not as Monsieur Yacub Boudri, his brother—he has what you call a reputation, eh?'

  Remembering the velvet dark eyes and slumbrous smile of the young man who had so obligingly got Yusuf to see her in the garden, Lisa nodded. 'Yes, I can imagine! But you mean adopted brother, don't you; they're not brothers, actually, are they?'

  'Adopted brother; stepbrothers, all the same/ Ali guessed with a careless shrug. They all one family/

  Briefly, for she dared not appear too curious in case she put an end to his confidences, Lisa glanced at him

  from the corner of her eye. 'Are they all one family ? I couldn't sort it out/

  She gave the impression that she was much better informed than she was in fact, Lisa knew, but she excused herself by thinking it was unlikely to be a secret what actual relation Yusuf was to Sheik Abahn's sons. Unsuspectingly, Ali enlightened her.

  'Madame married first the French engineer and then Sheik Abahn. Mademoiselle Zeineb is their daughter. So —all one family, yes?'

  Lisa did see now, but she could understand why no one bothered to sort out the ben Dacra/el Boudri tangle of relationships. It was much simpler to class them all as one family. 'Do you like working for Mr ben Dacra?' she asked, wondering how honest he would be about that

  But there was no mistaking his sincerity when he answered her. 'Oh yes, mademoiselle. He is a very—good man, and everyb
ody likes him. Also he pays good wages.'

  'I don't doubt that.' Lisa accepted the fact of his paying his crew well, because she could imagine he would. That reputation for fair dealing that Geoffrey had mentioned would extend to his employees, she thought. But she wanted to know why else Yusuf ben Dacra was so well liked. 'But what makes you say he's good man, Ali? Why good? It isn't a term that's used very much these days, is it?' Ali looked puzzled, and shook his head as if he did not follow her reasoning. 'I mean take what he's doing at Zobi, for instance. How can you '

  'I know nothing about that, mademoiselle; excuse mef

  So he had been primed not to say too much to her, Lisa thought, and sliced through a bright red pepper with angry relish when she thought about it. Ali was ready enough to sing his praises, but adamantly refused to discuss the subject that interested her most.

  Tou're well trained,' she told him with a wry smile.

  TJut surely if it's common knowledge what's happening at Zobi, there's no harm in you talking to me about it.'

  'I cannot do that, mademoiselle !'

  'Because he's threatened '

  'Monsieur ben Dacra does not make threats, made-moiselleV Ali's reproof had an unexpected dignity, and she could see he was quite adamant about not talking about Zobi, whatever reason he had.

  'All right, I'm sorry.' She gave him a smile, though it was a rueful one. 4 I won't embarrass you by asking any more questions about your master's plans for Zobi.'

  Thank you, mademoiselle —but Monsieur ben Dacra is my employer, not my master.'

  Lisa wondered for a moment if he was completely serious about the correction; decided he was and apologised once more. 'No, of course he isn't; I'm sorry, Ali/

  From then on they got along splendidly. Lisa was ready to admit that Ali was not only a competent cook, but also a very able tutor, and she felt she had learned quite a lot by the time dinner was ready. Not only about cooking, but about Ali too. He was friendly and easygoing, but staunch in his loyalty to Yusuf ben Dacra, so that there was little hope of him doing anything to earn his disapproval; like helping her get away.

  They were laughing together uninhibitedly about something Ali had said, when Lisa saw his expression change suddenly and swung round to see what had caused it. She should have known, she thought, when she saw Yusuf s towering form standing in the doorway, his black brows wearing an unmistakable frown of dis-appoval. He said something in Arabic; brief, but obviously to the point because Ali gave her a swift sideways glance and bobbed his head.

  Dinner was almost ready so there was nothing more he could do, but Lisa resented the fact that he was being

  so summarily removed, as if by making her laugh he had committed some grave offence. 'Don't blame AH/ she said, before Yusuf had time to say anything to her. 'He made me laugh, that's all. He hasn't been guilty of anything worse than cheering me up!'

  At a brusque nod from his employer, AH slipped past her and made for the door, but before he went he half-turned his head, and this time there was no mistaking the broad wink he gave her. Hastily avoiding his eye, Lisa hoped Yusuf had not seen it too, but in vain. When AH passed him in the doorway Yusuf said something in Arabic, short and sharp, and Ali's good-looking young face looked crestfallen as he went hurrying off along the passage.

  'Did you have to do that?' Lisa demanded, resentful on Ali's behalf and her own. 'You needn't worry that he'll say something he shouldn't! He closed up like a clam the minute I mentioned Zobi!'

  'I would hope so/ Yusuf said quietly. 'I do not expect to have my business gossiped about by trusted employees/

  Feeling that she had somehow been firmly put in her place, Lisa twisted the knife she held round and round in her fingers. 'But it makes it all the more unreasonable that you sent him off with what I would guess was a telling-off/ she protested.

  The dark eyes did not waver. 'You do not know AH as I do. I reprimanded him for winking his eye at you as he did. A smile of encouragement is all that AH needs to become very—friendly.'

  Lisa's eyes scorned his explanation. 'And you sent him to teach me to cook! Thank you!'

  From the doorway Yusuf watched her steadily for a moment before he replied, and while he stood there he ran the fingers of one hand over the back of his head. The same gesture he had used at lunch-time after he

  kissed her, and conveying the same suggestion of discomfiture.

  'I expected to find you keeping him at arm's length/ he said, and when he caught her swift frown of puzzlement and disbelief. 'It was the impression I got from—— f

  It was unthinkable that he was actually uneasy, and yet the signs were unmistakable. Lisa's heart was thudding wildly for no good reason she could think of, except that she remembered the way he had kissed her and the devastating effect it had on her. Turning her back, she put down the knife and began cleaning the work-top.

  'Well, now you know differently,' she said in a not quite steady voice. 'I just hope you won't say any more to Ali; he doesn't deserve it. And as it happens I didn't have to keep him at arm's length.'

  She had not really intended that slight stress on 'him*, but somehow it happened, and when Yusuf did not say anything, she turned back to look at him again. But he was gone and the door closed, although she had not heard a sound, and she could not imagine why she felt so disappointed about it.

  Lisa had slept very little, although it had been after midnight when she went to bed. She had had so much on her mind that it was impossible to sleep, for right up until the last moment she had refused to believe that Yusuf ben Dacra would detain her overnight. Not until the rich throbbing of the engines became the only sound to disturb the silence on board had she been forced to believe it, and then she had felt apprehension for the first time, when she realised how completely isolated she was.

  Through her window she had watched the moon make shimmering paths across the water, and fat stars glitter like diamonds scattered on dark velvet. A wonderful.

  romantic setting that brought only added bitterness when she considered her position. It had seemed such a long time since they left Casablanca, and such a long way back home.

  Not long after Yusuf left her in the galley, Ali had come with a quite unexpected invitation to dinner, but she had sent him back with a polite but firm refusal and made do with the same lamb and rice the crew had. No doubt Yusuf had thought her both stubborn and foolish to deprive herself of the privilege, but Lisa had not felt like risking another incident like lunchtime.

  It had been after midnight when someone knocked on her door, but by then she had become resigned to not being released before morning, and nothing else interested her but that. Not even Yusuf ben Dacra, she thought bitterly, was callous enough to turn her loose in the middle of the night to find her own way home, so without bothering to discover who it was she had walked over and very deliberately turned the key in the lock. Whoever it was and whatever he wanted could wait until morning.

  Waking late, she lay for a while trying to realise where she was, and when she remembered, the facts seemed even more incredible. She felt like weeping with frustration and disappointment; she even thought of making a play for his sympathy by crying in front of him, but unless she had misjudged her stony-hearted captor, he was not going to be convinced by a sudden resort to tears.

  There was a bathroom adjoining her cabin and she brushed an impatient hand across her eyes as she made her way across to it. A leisurely shower did a lot to bolster her morale, even though she had to get into the same clothes again, and she was zipping up her slacks when someone knocked on her door.

  She paused in what she was doing and looked up

  swiftly, staring at the door and frowning slightly. Maybe it was her caller of last night. But if it was Ali with an invitation to breakfast she was going to send him back with a firm refusal, just as she had last night, no matter how hungry she was. Yusuf ben Dacra was far too disturbing a table companion for her to readily repeat yesterday's experience.

  But obvioysly
in this instance she was not to be allowed to ignore the caller, for another knock followed swiftly on the first, jolting her into activity. Hastily fastening the zip, she called out as she went.

  'All right, all right, Ali, I'm coming!' Flinging the door wide, she stared for a second in blank surprise at Yusuf ben Dacra. 'Oh,' she said, too taken aback to think of being tactful, 'I didn't expect you/

  His lean height and broad shoulders loomed impressively in the doorway and Lisa could not understand why her heart lurched so wildly at the sight of him. It was quite incredible the effect he had in the circumstances. He regarded her for a moment without speaking, but she should have known he would notice and recognise the shadows under her eyes as evidence of a restless night.

  'Good morning, Miss Pelham. Did you sleep well?'

  'I hardly slept at all,' Lisa told him, making no attempt to match his cool politeness. 'Although you can hardly be surprised at that when you consider how much I have to worry about.'

  Light slacks and a white shirt made him appear darker and even less European than usual this morning. He was freshly shaven and his skin glowed, smelling of the after-shave she was beginning to associate solely with him. He was a dark and disturbingly sensual creature whom she found it increasingly hard to dislike, despite her determinedly unco-operative attitude.

  Ignoring her present complaint, he ran his eyes over the rather crumpled slacks and shirt she wore, and the

  riot of thick uncombed hair that tumbled around her face. 'May I come inside?' he asked, and when she hesitated, eyeing him warily instead, he frowned. 'You complained yesterday of having nothing to change into/ he reminded her.

  'I've only what I stand up in—thanks to you.'

  The situation is of your making/ Yusuf reminded her curtly, 'but it can be remedied. I had intended telling you last night, but you refused to have dinner with me, and it was very late when I thought about it again; you were already asleep/ He contemplated her boldly for a moment. 'Or else you had some other reason for not responding to my knock/