'Is this a medal?' she said wildly, uncaring of its possible significance or that her action might seem stupid. 'They—they're quite fashionable for men these days.'
He remained quite immobile, his hands still on her shoulders, and looked down at her. 'Not exactly. It's an amulet.'
Her feverish fingers now told her that the broken shape was not that of a disc. She peered at it, half seeing, half sensing the wishbone shape and the little curved bars crossing it.
'Are you superstitious?' he asked.
'Sometimes.' She let the amulet fall and it settled back against his skin and slid within the folds of his shirt. `It's rather super,' she took a step back, wishing her heart would settle down a bit more, and managed a tremulous smile, 'and very unusual.'
'You think it an attractive bauble?' A strange smile
touched his mouth.
'Mmm,' she felt relief that the situation seemed to be getting under her control again, hope it brings you luck.'
'It will.'
He had released her. His hands went to his neck and the next moment the chain was being slipped lightly over her head. The small gold weight came to rest between her breasts, and Raoul said lightly : 'Now it will bring you luck.'
'Me? But . ..' Her fingers sought the amulet and she stared wildly at him. 'But you can't mean ... no ... I didn't mean ...'
'But yes.' He checked her instinctive attempt to remove it. 'It is yours now—perhaps you are more in need of its properties than I.'
'Oh no! I can't take it. It—I ...'
'You must. It is the custom. You are my guest, and therefore whatever I possess must be yours if you desire it.'
The strange little smile came again as he regarded her startled face. 'I'm sure you do not wish to break our custom, which is a genuine one, I assure you, throughout our land. If a guest should admire any possession of his host then that possession is given, with wholehearted sincerity. You will offend if you refuse such a gift.'
She gave a gasp of dismay, and the stammered protests died on her lips. How did she deal with this fresh shock? She couldn't possibly accept such a gift, one almost certainly of gold and of great intrinsic value. Yet it seemed she couldn't return it. How to plead that she had been ignorant of the custom, without ...?
Raoul was the most unpredictable man she'd ever met, not to say the most alarming. She opened her lips, and he raised a warning hand.
No, Melissa, do not be angry again. The night has veiled those sparks in your eyes and softened that fierce independence of your mouth. I much prefer to see you thus.'
Suddenly she was aware of feeling small beside him, of the sense of male power overwhelmingly disturbing. The soft breeze feathered through her hair and then stilled into the breathless silence.
He said softly : 'The night has revealed your beauty, and made you desirable.'
His arms drew her effortlessly into the spell of enchantment. Tawny stars glittered in his eyes, then went dark as his mouth came down to hers. The long lean strength of his body was hard against her, an invading force that became a conquest of soft contours striving to remain 'remote. The touch of his lips was sweeter than she could ever have believed, even when his arms tightened convulsively and the sweetness became a passion without mercy. Suddenly it was as though she inflamed him, and his fire would consume all her strength of resistance.
Abruptly, his mouth slid to her cheek and his breath quickened against her flushed face. She was trembling so much she could not move, even though her whirling senses told her to break free. For this delirious moment she didn't want to be free. She wanted to entwine her arms about him and return to the fierce claim of his mouth.
His hands moved over her shoulders and he said roughly, the words forming against her lips : 'Are you
still my enemy, Melissa?'
`I—I was never your enemy,' she whispered shakily.
He drew back slightly. 'Even though I invoked such anger in you?'
The veil of her lashes drooped. 'One can anger without bearing enmity '
'So I have always believed. I am glad.' He put his hand under her chin and forced her to look up. 'You see, submission is quite easy after all. And much sweeter !'
'Oh no!' She started back as though he had struck her, and stared at the light of triumph in his eyes. With an effort she gathered back composure and managed to laugh scornfully. 'That wasn't submission, my dear Raoul.'
'And what was it?' he said in a voice that had gone dangerously quiet.
'You can call it submission,' she flashed. 'We, if we bothered to define it, would call it flirting. It can,' she said over her shoulder as she turned away, 'be just as sweet as—submission.'
CHAPTER VI
IN all fairness to Raoul she had to admit during the next few days that he wasn't quite as ruthless a gaoler as she had first believed. Perhaps he had realised that to keep three girls isolated at Kadir was to risk a quarrelsome and unpleasant atmosphere, if not an explosive one, but whatever it was he made sure the next few days were fully mapped out. The little place in the hills to which Amorel had referred proved to be a small new hotel set amid the rich picturesque scenery of the High Atlas.
They drove out in the morning, winding a leisurely exploring way, and returned long after sundown and the call of the muezzin from the minaret of the little walled town of Kadir. The following day he took them to the plantation where smiling girls brought them the traditional gift of plump dates on long heavily laden stems, and later he took them to explore Kadir. The esteem with which Raoul was held soon became very obvious. The Amghar, or El Kadir, as some called him, was certainly both respected and loved, and because of this so were the three girls.
But Melissa, in spite of this freedom, had cause for concern on more than one count. She was conscious always of the solid if quiet presence of Mahmoud and the dark-skinned chauffeur whom she remembered from that first day in Casa. If one of the girls turned away, caught by something that attracted a tourist eye,
one of the burly shadows or Raoul himself was always there, vigilant, and Melissa knew that the threat was still foremost in his mind By the weekend, with which they rounded off the week by spending it in Marrakech at the home of one of Raoul's friends, she was used to the shadows of a bodyguard. But she was far from resigned to the presence of Raoul himself.
Since that disturbing episode in the garden she had known many moments of anguish. Certain remarks returned constantly to haunt her, bitterest of all the arrogant assumption : 'If I desire a woman's submission I do not have to browbeat her into it—there are more pleasurable ways . How easily he had proved the proud boast !
The bitterness of the memory helped to stiffen her resolve to maintain a cool, hostile front in his presence. But in spite of this the damage had been done. She could don an aloof, impersonal politeness, but she could not subdue the tumult of her traitorous senses. Even the slightest of accidental physical contact was sufficient to bring those senses to tingling life, and even to look at that lean chiselled mouth, catch the regard of those dark compelling eyes, brought a potency of memory almost unbearable.
It was inevitable that Avril's sharp eyes would notice and speculate.
'What's the matter with you?' she asked suddenly, the day after they returned from Marrakech and began to gloat over the results of their shopping orgy.
'Nothing,' said Melissa.
'Oh yeah! You've been like a wet week ever since you got here.' A cynical little smile twitched Avril's mouth. suppose you've discovered that Raoul
doesn't think much of English girls.'
couldn't care less what sort of girls he likes,' Melissa said stubbornly. To try to change the subject she turned to Amorel, in whose room they were at that moment, and touched the delicately embroidered blouse the younger girl was trying on. Amorel had gone gay, buying a full traditional costume of serwal and filmy blouse, a caftan of sumptuous white brocade and silver thread work, and the cloak like man souriah which completed the ensemble.
It
was this last garment which attracted the girls most of all, with its distinctive patterned bands of turquoise in the misty, almost transparent tissue like silk.
'Isn't it romantic?' Amorel crooned, preening in front of the mirror. 'Wait till Larry sees me in this.'
'He'll devour you,' observed Avril, `if Raoul doesn't do so first.'
`No.' Some of the elation faded from Amorel's face. 'You are right. He does not really approve of English girls.'
wonder why,' said Avril carelessly. 'It must be my sister's fiery temper.'
No, it is not that.' Amorel took off the mansouriah and sat down on the bed. 'It is because of his mother.'
Melissa looked up sharply, but left it to her sister to make the obvious prompting.
'His mother was English. He doesn't like to talk about it. She left here and went back to England when Raoul was only a small boy.'
'You mean she just walked out on her husband and the kid?'
Amorel nodded. believe there was another man,
an Englishman she'd known when she was younger. My Uncle Pierre—Raoul's father—did everything to get her back but without success. He idolised her. Then he had an accident two or three years later while he was out riding. He lay in the desert with a broken leg. By the time they found him it was too late.'
`Oh, God! Poor old Raoul. He did have a rough time of it.' Avril sounded concerned enough, but Melissa suspected the concern was somewhat superficial. The next moment she knew she had not misjudged the sister she knew too well.
'Somebody should try to make it up to him.' The flippancy was back in Avril's tone. 'Obviously he needs a woman's tender influence. I told you you ought to try being nice to him, Lissa. Just think of all that frustrated need for mother love locked up in that poor little boy. Growing up with all his illusions of womanhood shattered. That sort of thing's just up your street, Lissa. Lame ducks and lost children.' She turned to Amorel. 'She's always been first with the banner bearing for deserving causes.'
'Shut up !'
With a furious glare at her sister's unrepentant grin Melissa walked out. Back in her own room she stared at the peaceful riad with brooding eyes. This unexpected glimpse into Raoul's background came as something of a shock, even though when she reflected on it she was not surprised as much as disturbed. From the start she had sensed an indefinable difference in Raoul. Compared to Philippe he was not wholly French, nor was he English, and he certainly didn't fit completely into the Moroccan pattern of nationality, despite the fact that he was utterly and perfectly at
home in what he proudly called his native land.
She sighed; now she knew the reason for the small secluded garden hidden within high walls which was so English and so puzzling. A husband who idolised his foreign bride might well have tried to import a touch of her native soil . . .
But now she came to look back, a certain deeper significance suddenly leapt to mind There had been a deliberacy in the way Raoul had taken her into the intimacy of that hidden garden, and there proceeded to teach her submission.
How much of that earlier disillusion prompted his action, and the choice of scene in which to play it? Did he really despise English girls?
From the dressing table drawer she took the amulet which had lain there ever since the night she wrenched it off and flung it angrily out of her sight. For the first time she examined it closely. There was no doubt that it was gold, as was the chain on which it hung, and that it was of considerable age. There was a smoothness at the edges and a slight blurring of the fine engraving from the years of contact with his bronzed skin as it lay against his heart.
She weighed it in her hand, the faint frown persisting in her troubled eyes. Why had he given it to her? It didn't fit in with Avril's surmise. If you despised a person you didn't present them with a personal possession of unique worth, and the more she thought about the amulet the more her conviction increased that it did hold a personal value for Raoul. So why?
Almost without volition, she raised her hands and slipped the chain over her head. The small cool weight of the amulet slid to its nadir and at that moment a
shadow fell across the open window. She looked up at the tall figure and could not restrain a gasp.
beg your pardon, I didn't mean to startle you.' His tone was chill, and so were the eyes that instantly took in the amulet she had donned. But he made no comment, brushing aside her confused disavowal.
'There is someone to see you.'
`Me?'
'Come, is it so surprising? I should have known you would deliberately flout my wishes.'
'But I don't understand!' She stared at his angry face. haven't flouted your wishes. There must be some mistake.'
'There is no mistake.' He turned away with an arrogant gesture of dismissal. `Go and see for yourself. You will find your visitor in my study.'
Still staring her puzzlement, she went slowly past him and along the terrace. At the open screens she halted, blinking into the shadows that seemed so dark after the brilliance of the sun, and the man within swung round quickly at her entrance. He threw out his hands and rushed forward.
`Mon ami! At last I find you,' cried Philippe St Clair.
'Well, Philippe, I award you full marks for detection. You're brilliant !'
Philippe bowed an acknowledgement of Avril's mocking compliment and murmured deprecatingly : 'It was so simple I do not know why I didn't think of it sooner.'
They were gathered in the riad. The evening meal was over and Philippe was obviously enjoying basking in the smiles of three attractive girls.
'How long can you stay?' asked Amorel.
'Ahem ... I do not wish to impose on the hospitality of Monsieur Germont, and I have only a few days of vacation due at present.' Philippe's head tilted to one side and he regarded Amorel with the whimsical expression that Melissa found oddly endearing.
He's much younger than I realised back in Casa, she reflected, content to sit back while he chattered to the two girls. Beside Raoul his boyishness had been sharply accentuated.
And yet he had gone to a great deal of trouble to trace her, and after a not inconsiderable journey had been prepared to challenge Raoul Germont to deny that the two sisters were under his roof.
wish I'd seen his face when you turned up at the gate demanding admittance,' Avril was saying. 'What did he say?'
Philippe shrugged. 'After his first surprise at seeing me I got the impression somehow that he was not in the least surprised, after all.'
A trace of bitterness crossed Melissa's face. She knew very well the cause of Raoul's lack of surprise—and his anger. She would never convince him that she hadn't informed Philippe of her whereabouts, or that Philippe had not even received her letter, which was doubtless still lying at his office, waiting his return to Casa. Philippe, after discovering she had not returned to the hotel, had made enquiries of the reception clerk and what he had learned had made him instantly suspicious. It had not taken him long to discover the
identity of the owner of the house with the amulets, and from there was but a step to the Kadir estate and the date plantations which Raoul Germont had inherited from his grandfather. It was the only lead, and Philippe had backed his hunch, taken a few days leave and set off for Kadir. Given contacts in the business world of Casa and more knowledge of the country, Melissa might have made the same discovery herself and so traced Avril.
He made it all seem so simple, she thought. No wonder Raoul was furious under that cool urbane outer appearance. He might have known he couldn't hope to keep their presence a secret. There was a sense of satisfaction running through her as she mused on Philippe's astuteness, and at that moment it did not occur to her that there could be a sinister significance in the fact of the ease with which Philippe had succeeded in discovering Kadir.
He stayed for three days and his effect on Avril was predictable. Her air of boredom dropped away like magic and she monopolised his company with blatant determination, to the extent of disappearing with him for the
best part of a whole day. The night before his departure they went to dine at the Caravanserai.
Feeling uncomfortably like a proverbial gooseberry, Melissa did not enjoy the evening and she could not subdue a feeling of hurt at the marked contrast in Raoul's attitude to herself as against that to his cousin. The protective air he always had for Amorel seemed more marked that night, but his politeness to Melissa was the iciest she had ever experienced. He seemed determined to hold her responsible for Philippe's advent, and it did not make the situation any happier
when Amorel said teasingly : thought Philippe came to find you.'
She passed it off with a shrug, aware of Raoul's sardonic gaze.
He said, 'The best laid plans . .. Miss Blair?'
The reversion to formality carried a sting she was unprepared for, and Amorel gave him a sharp look. 'You've gone formal, all of a sudden.'
suspect Miss Blair prefers my formality.'
Amorel sighed as though she was aware of the underlying tension. She twisted the stem of her wine glass between her fingers and stared across the lamp lit terrace where the figures of Avril and Philippe were faintly luminous against the silhouettes of the palms. They were standing very close together and Avril had her hands resting against the lapels of Philippe's white dinner jacket as she looked up into his eyes. It was a gesture as old as Eve and it brought another sigh from Amorel.
She said wistfully, 'Just look at those stars and that sky. If only ... It's not fair !'
Melissa knew exactly what she meant. It was the kind of night and the kind of setting for sharing, and not with another girl who was experiencing the same restless, instinctive sense of longing.
She glanced at Raoul, then wished she hadn't. He was leaning back, tendrils of filmy blue rising from the cheroot he held, and his eyes were studying her as though they discerned every hidden nuance of her unease. Although he had not moved by as much as a flicker she felt his nearness and the throbbing senses start up again. As though she were back in time she could feel his hands, his mouth ... It took a conscious
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