by Anne Herries
The prince was leaving, and from his expression it appeared that he was not pleased. Now what had the British slipped into the treaty? There must be a new clause, because he had checked everything with Forbes and gone over it with the prince with a fine toothcomb.
He was about to follow his uncle from the room when Forbes put a hand on his shoulder, delaying him.
‘May I have a word with you, Pasha?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Pasha smothered a sigh. No doubt Forbes was about to try and persuade him to accept whatever it was the prince had rejected, but there was simply no point. It had taken ages for Pasha to talk his uncle into agreeing to the treaty as it stood and if…
Even as he hesitated, there was the sound of gunfire from outside the room, then shouting and screaming. Pasha looked at Forbes in alarm, both of them starting off at a run, only to halt in sudden horror as they saw the scene of carnage that met their eyes in the corridor.
Three men were lying on the floor, having been shot several times. Pasha hurried to his uncle’s side, and was greeted by a furious glare from Mohammed Ibn Ali, who had been summoned to the meeting by the prince at the last moment.
‘My God!’ Pasha stared in horror as he realised that his uncle was amongst the dead. How could this have happened when he had demanded so many security checks before agreeing to the meeting? A surge of grief and revulsion went over him, and he blamed himself for not being there when his uncle needed him. If he had been, there was just a chance that he might have prevented this.
‘This is your fault,’ Mohammed accused Pasha. ‘The prince knew that he should never have agreed to this treaty…and now look what they have done to him.’
‘This was the work of extremists,’ Pasha said, his eyes narrowed and suspicious. He glanced down at the face of the man he had served faithfully for some years and saw that he was dead. ‘Are you hurt, Mohammed?’ He put out a hand to touch his cousin, who moved angrily away from him.
‘It is a mere scratch.’ He shrugged his shoulders, his face harsh. ‘Would that they had killed me instead of him!’
Pasha saw that Mohammed was bleeding slightly from a wound in his arm, but that his uncle’s bodyguards were both dead. Whoever had done this had been quite determined to kill those closest to the prince, which would have included him had Forbes not delayed him.
‘You should go to hospital,’ Pasha said to Mohammed. ‘Your arm needs attention.’
‘Better it should wither than an infidel should touch it,’ Mohammed said bitterly. His eyes were dark with anger. ‘Do not imagine I do not know why this has been done. He refused to sign, but you are his heir. They know that you will sign in his place.’
With that parting comment, he turned and walked away, brushing aside the officials and police alike as he strode out of the building.
Pasha stared after him, his brow furrowed. He was well aware that at least a part of what his cousin had just said might well be true.
‘This is a terrible business,’ Forbes said, coming up to him. ‘It will set the whole question of a treaty back months, if not years. If they had to get him at last, I wish they had done it anywhere but here.’
‘Yes, it is most inconvenient for you,’ Pasha said, hiding his anger at the other man’s choice of words. ‘Will your police allow me to see to things here or will they insist on taking charge?’
‘You must leave it to them for the time being,’ Forbes said. ‘I’ll make sure that you are given access as soon as possible and you can make the arrangements for his body to be taken home.’
‘Thank you,’ Pasha said and inclined his head. ‘Now you must excuse me.’
He was seething with anger as he walked away. He had thought that the British were dealing straight with him, but if Mohammed was right…
Sick to his stomach, he thought that the sooner he could wash his hands of this whole business the better he would feel.
Chloe paid the taxi and stood on the pavement clutching her small bag. She hadn’t bothered to bring much with her, because she knew that most of her clothes would not fit her well enough. She planned on doing some shopping before she went to Justine’s the next day, but for the moment she was going to stay in the apartment.
She had the key in her bag, and was just about to open the door of the apartment when she heard the telephone ringing inside. She went in quickly, picking up the phone even as she wondered who knew she was here. She had told no one but Henry and Dora. She held the receiver to her ear, sounding a little breathless as she answered.
‘Yes—Chloe here…’
‘Are you all right, my dear?’ Henry asked. ‘Only when we heard the news we were anxious.’
‘I’ve just arrived,’ Chloe said and perched on the chair next to the hall table. ‘What news is that?’
‘There was an assassination in London today,’ Henry said. ‘I hope this isn’t too shocking for you, but the prince was killed and two of his bodyguards.’
‘Pasha…’ Chloe’s heart raced madly. The colour drained from her face, her eyes wide with shock. ‘Was he hurt? Oh, please, don’t tell me he was shot, Henry. I couldn’t bear it…’
‘No, no, my dear. Pasha rang himself to let us know. I told him you were coming up. He says he’s fine.’
‘Oh, thank God, thank God,’ Chloe said. She bent over, head dipping as she fought to get her breath, her back towards the open door of the sitting room. ‘I couldn’t bear it if he’d been killed, Henry…’ She choked back a sob, then, hearing a sound behind her, she whirled round fearfully. ‘Pasha!’
Leaving the telephone hanging, she ran towards him, everything forgotten in her relief at seeing him alive. She was laughing and crying at the same time and as he moved to catch her in his arms, she flung hers about him.
‘Pasha…Pasha…’ she wept. ‘Henry just told me… I am so sorry about your uncle.’
A shadow passed across his face, and she understood that his ties to his uncle had been far deeper than she had imagined. For the first time she knew why as a last resort he had been prepared to order the assassination of a man who had sworn to kill his uncle because he had sincerely believed there was no other way to protect a man he loved! Just as he would protect her with his life if need be.
What conflict that must have caused him, torn between affection, duty and his own conscience. And now the prince had been killed despite all his efforts.
‘You mustn’t blame yourself, my darling. You did all you could.’
Her words were smothered by his kiss, which was both hungry and demanding, stripping her of the ability to think at all until he released her a moment or so later.
‘I am so glad you are safe,’ she said, clinging to him as he gazed down into her tear-drenched eyes. ‘I love you so much…so much…’
‘I love you, Chloe,’ he said, and then gave her his teasing smile, that look she had missed so much. ‘I think you should hang up on poor Henry properly, don’t you?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Chloe caught back a sob that was almost a laugh. She went over to the phone and caught up the receiver. ‘I’m sorry, Henry. Pasha is here.’
‘No need to be sorry, my dear,’ he told her. ‘It’s about time that husband of yours came home and took care of you—and you tell him that from me.’
‘Yes, I shall.’ Chloe laughed. ‘We’ll be in touch soon.’
She replaced the receiver carefully this time, and went back to Pasha, who took her in his arms and kissed her again. It was some while before either of them felt like talking.
She was lying in his arms, after his gentle lovemaking had carried her to the heights, when he began to tell her of what had happened—and what was in his mind for the future.
Chloe eased herself up and looked at him, her eyes serious and still dark with passion. ‘Are you sure that is why your uncle was killed—because he would not sign the treaty that would make his land a British protectorate?’
‘It’s what Mohammed thinks.’
Chloe wrinkled her brow as
she recalled the memory. ‘He was with you in the desert, and he didn’t like me…’
‘He doesn’t like me very much either,’ Pasha said and smiled oddly. ‘But at least he doesn’t pretend to be a friend to my face and plot behind my back.’
Chloe reached up to touch his face lovingly. ‘I missed you so much,’ she said. ‘So very much. When Henry said—’
‘Yes, I know. I heard you,’ he said and smiled at her ruefully. ‘I’ve been a stubborn fool, Chloe. I was angry and fearful of what might happen to you, but I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I wanted to come back to you weeks ago.’
‘Only weeks?’ she asked, a look of mischief in her eyes. ‘I wanted you to come back two seconds after you left!’
‘I should never have gone,’ Pasha said. ‘It’s my pride, Chloe.’
She touched her fingers to his lips, shaking her head. ‘No, Pasha. Your pride is only partly to blame. I was too naïve when we married. I didn’t understand and I judged too quickly. I was more at fault than you were.’
‘We were both at fault,’ he said and smiled oddly. ‘I have learned a lot about myself these past weeks, Chloe, and there is one thing I am certain of, apart from the fact that I love you, of course.’
‘As long as you learned that,’ she said with a contented sigh and nestled against him. ‘Oh dear, Philip does come between us a bit, doesn’t he?’
‘Philip?’ Pasha’s brows arched in amusement. ‘You’ve decided that he is going to be a boy then?’
Chloe kissed his shoulder, smoothing her fingers through the crisp hair on his chest. He had such a firm, well-muscled body, a product she knew of the sport he had played as a youth, and still kept up. Apparently he excelled at playing the game of tennis, riding over fences in three-day event trials, and swimming. Her stay with Henry and Dora had taught her a great deal about him, but of course she had known about the swimming. Why else would he have had his own house built so close to the sea in Spain? At the time she has just thought of it as an extravagant luxury, but now she knew he had needed it when he had time to relax.
‘Well, I should like to have a son just like you.’
‘Just like me?’ he teased.
‘Well, almost like you,’ she qualified. ‘But I hope Philip will prefer to stay in this country rather than go haring all over the world.’
‘Then he will be just like me,’ Pasha said and touched the end of her nose with his fingertip. ‘That is what I learned these past weeks, Chloe. I am tired of the way I have been living. It was never what I wanted, but I felt I owed it to my uncle—and to my father’s memory.’
‘Yes, I can understand that,’ Chloe agreed. ‘I would rather you never had to be involved in any of that political stuff again.’
‘Yes…and somehow I am going to make sure that I’m not,’ Pasha said, looking thoughtfully at her. ‘I thought I knew the way, Chloe. But now I am not so sure.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It is best that you don’t know.’
‘Please,’ she said. ‘Don’t do that again—don’t shut me out, Pasha. Let me share what is worrying you…let me be a part of all of your life, not just some of it.’
He gazed down at her for a moment, and then he inclined his head. ‘It wasn’t that I wanted to shut you out, Chloe. I wanted to protect you,’ he said. ‘I wanted to be sure that you were not touched by any of this.’
‘I am not a silly little girl any longer,’ she said, tilting her head at him. ‘I’ve grown up.’
‘Yes, you have,’ he said and looked grave. ‘You’ve lost that funny little girl look that I loved—and I did that to you.’
‘It wasn’t you,’ Chloe said. ‘It was Ahmad—and life. I would have had to grow up one day, Pasha. I couldn’t stay a little girl forever.’
‘No, of course you couldn’t.’ He smiled down at her. ‘And though I may miss the little girl look, I would rather have the woman you have become, darling.’
‘Thank you.’ She blushed as she saw the heat in his eyes, knowing that their loving had been hungry and passionate—perhaps more passionate than ever before, with her more than holding her own. ‘I like being her, Pasha. And I love being married to you.’
‘Good, because I intend that you shall stay that way,’ he said and touched her cheek. ‘I hope you didn’t believe all that rubbish about letting you go, Chloe? You must know I didn’t mean it.’
‘That’s fine with me.’ She snuggled up to him. ‘Because I’ve no intention of leaving you.’
They lay close to one another in silence for a moment or two, and then Chloe looked up at him. ‘So what are you going to do, Pasha? You are your uncle’s heir, aren’t you?’
‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘I know the British expect me to sign their treaty, and a part of me thinks it’s the best thing for all concerned, but there’s another part of me that keeps telling me I am betraying my past. Selling out.’
‘And you still care about your past, don’t you?’ Chloe asked. ‘It still matters to you despite the fact that you’ve spent so much time in England these past years. You still feel the call of the desert—of your blood.’
‘Yes, I suppose it does,’ Pasha agreed. ‘I want to be free of it all, the political double-dealing and the power. I hate it, Chloe, and the easy way is to hand it over to the British. On the other hand…’ He sighed and seemed troubled.
‘You feel that might be betraying your uncle and your father?’ Chloe knew that she was right as he nodded. ‘Why don’t you go back to your past?’ she asked. ‘Go back to where it all happened, to your father’s casbah, to the desert.’
‘It’s odd that you should say that,’ he said, holding her pressed close against him, his hand stroking the satin smoothness of her back, following the arch and cupping her buttocks. ‘I have been thinking of doing just that recently.’
‘It might be that you could find the solution,’ Chloe said. ‘Until you do, you will never be at peace, Pasha.’
‘But I don’t want to leave you again.’
‘Why should you?’ she asked. ‘I’m not quite five months pregnant. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t come with you.’ She laughed up at him. ‘There’s no way I’m letting you go off without me again, whatever it takes.’
Pasha laughed and began to kiss her on the lips once more, his mouth taking its lazy journey down the line of her throat to her breasts. He sucked and teased at the nipples until he had her arching towards him again, willing him to love her, his dark eyes wicked with love and mischief as he looked down at her.
‘I was conceived under desert stars,’ he said. ‘Are you prepared for your son to be born in the desert, my darling?’
‘As long as you are there to take care of us both,’ she said and giggled as she felt a kicking sensation in her belly. She took his hand and placed it gently on her stomach. ‘Can you feel that, Pasha? Can you feel him moving? That is your son telling you he just wants to be near his father.’
Pasha looked at her, wonder in his eyes.
‘Are you sure you feel well enough to go travelling?’
‘If your mother could have you in the desert, I can have my child there.’
Pasha laughed. ‘My mother had far too much sense. She demanded a Western doctor present at the birth, and I shall make sure you have the same, Chloe. But we can fly out to the casbah in easy stages, and be back in London long before our son is born.’
Chapter Thirteen
It was dark when their plane landed at the small private airport. Chloe glanced about her but was unable to see very much, except for a few white buildings at the perimeter. They had flown the last stages to the prince’s Home State, where Pasha was to attend his uncle’s funeral.
Pasha turned to Chloe as they descended from the plane. ‘We shall be surrounded by my uncle’s people at any moment,’ he told her and smiled. ‘I am afraid it will be all protocol once that happens, and you may feel a little left out, but don’t forget that you are more important than anything el
se to me.’
‘Please don’t worry,’ Chloe assured him. ‘I do understand.’
She saw a man walking towards them and caught Pasha’s arm urgently: for some reason an alarm bell was ringing in her head as she saw the man raise his right hand.
‘He has a gun!’
Before she could finish Pasha gave a cry of anguish and pushed her away from him. Chloe stumbled and fell as a series of shots rang out. She screamed, fearing that her husband may have been shot, but then she heard his voice as he knelt by her side.
‘Forgive me if I hurt you, my dearest,’ he said in a voice tight with emotion. ‘This is what I have always feared, that an attempt would be made on my life when you were with me.’
‘What happened?’ Glancing in the direction from where the assassination attempt had been made she saw that men were running everywhere and shouting. Another man lay on the ground, obviously dead. ‘They killed him.’
‘Yes.’ Pasha frowned as he saw her white face and felt her shudder. ‘It was the quick action of the reception committee that saved us, Chloe.’
‘But you saved me,’ she said. ‘That first shot…’
She felt sick as she realised that either of them could have been killed. It no longer surprised her that Pasha had been so possessive of her, even going so far as to forbid her to leave him, he knew that her life was as much in danger as his own.
‘Forgive me,’ he said in a broken voice. ‘It won’t happen again. I promise you that. I cannot have your life at risk; it is too important to me. I shall and will do something.’
‘Oh, Pasha, my love…’
Chloe did not ask what he meant, but she could see by the determined look on his face that he intended to make some sort of a change for the future.
Chloe did not attend the state funeral of Prince Hassan. She was left behind while Pasha did all that was expected of him as his uncle’s heir. She knew that he had been besieged with people wanting to talk to him since they arrived in the small Gulf state, but he had managed to spend as much time with her as he could.
