As he bowed his head in brief thanks for the food, and picked up a knife and fork to try the salad, she watched him with unwilling fascination. She didn’t want to ruin the mood by asking why he hadn’t gone that time, or why he hadn’t taken it up as a career. She knew the answer: Alim’s public life had chained Harun to home, helping Fadi for years. Then Fadi’s death and Alim’s desertion had foisted upon him more than just an unwanted wife.
He nodded at the salad, and served her a small helping. ‘I think everything is okay to eat. The most likely source for drugging is in the fluids.’
After she’d given her own thanks, she couldn’t help asking, ‘So you keep up with it?’
‘Apart from subscribing to all the magazines, I have a collection of books in my room, which I read whenever I have time. I keep up with the latest finds posted on the Net. I fund what digs I can from my private account.’
‘It must be hard to love something so much, to fund all those digs you fund, and not be able to be there,’ she said softly.
His face closed off for long moments, and she thought he might give her that shrug she hated. Then, slowly, he did—but it didn’t feel like a brush-off. ‘There’s no point in wanting what you can’t have, is there?’
But he did. The look of self-denial in those amazing eyes was more poignant than any complaint. She ached for him, this stranger husband who’d had to live for others for so many years. Would he ever be able to find his own life, to have time to just be?
As if sensing her pain and pity for him, he asked abruptly, ‘So, do you have any thoughts on who might have taken us, and why?’
Wishing he hadn’t diverted her yet, she bit her lip and shook her head. ‘I’ve been thinking and thinking. This feels like the wrong time. If the el-Shabbats were going to do it, it should have been a year or more ago—and they would have paid for the African warlord to kill Alim while they were at it. What’s the point of taking us now? Alim’s back, he’ll probably marry the nurse…the dynasty continues.’
‘I know.’ He frowned hard. ‘There doesn’t seem to be a point—except…’
Amber found herself shivering in some weird prescience. ‘Except?’
He looked up, into her eyes. ‘We didn’t continue the dynasty, Amber. Too many people know we’ve never shared a bedroom. The most traditional followers of the el-Kanar clan think you’ve brought me bad luck, and hate Alim’s Western ways. They probably think we’ve already poisoned any future union, given who and what the woman is who Alim intends to marry.’
She frowned deeper. ‘What do you mean, who and what she is? How could we affect his chances with this woman?’
He shrugged. ‘You might as well know now. Hana, the woman Alim loves, is a nurse, and, yes, she saved his life—but though she was born in Abbas al-Din, she was raised in Western Australia, and isn’t quite a traditional woman. Not only that, but Hana’s not the required highborn virgin—she’s a commoner, an engineer and miner’s daughter. And that’s not the worst.’
‘There’s more?’ she asked, as fascinated as she was taken aback. This was sounding more and more like one of the many ‘perils of Lutfiyah’ films she’d enjoyed as a child.
‘Believe it…or not,’ he joked, in an imitation of the ‘Ripley’s’ show she’d seen once or twice, and she laughed. ‘Though Alim’s arranged for her illegal proxy marriage to a drug runner to be annulled, the man’s still in prison. You know how the press will use that—“our sheikh marries a drug runner’s ex-wife”. What’s left of the Shabbat dynasty will make excellent mileage of it, perhaps start another insurrection.’
Amber gasped. ‘How can Alim possibly think he’ll get away with it? The hereditary sheikhs will never allow such a marriage!’
He gave another, too-careless shrug. ‘Alim has brought our country much of its current wealth. And Hana’s become a national heroine by saving his life at the risk of her own—without her, he’d be dead now, or he might never have come home. That belief is likely to start a backlash against the worst of the scandalmongers. And, given our lack of an heir in three years, the sheikhs that profit most from the el-Kanar family, and are desperate for the dynasty to continue, will vote for the marriage. By now Alim’s probably made his planned public announcement that he either marries Hana or I remain his heir for life. To Alim, it’s her or no one. He’s determined to have her. He loves her.’
The bleakness of his eyes warned her not to touch the subject, but a cold finger of jealousy ran up her spine and refused to be silenced. ‘She’s a lucky woman. Is that how you feel about—about—what was her name?’
‘Buhjah, you mean,’ he supplied, with an ironic look that told her he knew she’d deliberately forgotten the woman’s name. ‘You really don’t know me at all, Amber.’
She felt her chin lift and jut as she faced him, willing her cheeks not to blush at being caught out. ‘And if I don’t, whose fault is that?’
‘Too many people’s faults to mention, really.’ He turned his face, staring out into the afternoon sky. ‘And yes, the blame is mine, too—but blaming each other for anything gets us nowhere in our current position.’
‘All right,’ she said quietly, shamed by his honesty.
‘So I’m thinking perhaps this abduction could be a reactionary thing—those who love Alim most are taking us out of the equation, or some relations of Hana’s are doing this to force the media and hereditary sheikhs to accept the marriage, which means we’d be safely returned once the marriage is accepted and the wedding arrangements begun.’
She frowned at him. ‘That’s a very pretty story, and very reassuring, but what is it you’re not saying? Who do you really think it is?’
His shoulders, which had been held tense, slumped just a little. ‘Amber…’
‘I’m not a child,’ she said sharply. ‘This is my life, Harun. I need to know what I’m facing if I’m going to be of any help to you.’
After a few moments, he came around the table and stood right over her. A quick, hard little thrill filled her at the closeness she’d so rarely known from him. ‘Those who hate Alim’s Western ways might have taken him, too,’ he said so quietly she had to strain her ears to hear him, ‘and they’ve put us here, in these clothes, this enforced intimacy, to create the outcome they want.’
‘Which is?’ she asked in a similar whisper, unwillingly fascinated. He was speaking so low she had to stand and crowd against him to hear.
‘The obvious,’ he murmured, moving against her as if they were playing a love-game. ‘They want a legal el-Kanar heir from a suitable woman—and who could be more suitable than you?’
She felt her cheeks burning at the unprecedented intimacy. ‘Oh.’ She couldn’t think of anything to say. But the stark look in his eyes told her something else lay deeper. ‘There’s something wrong with that happening, isn’t there?’ she mouthed against his ear. Again he didn’t answer straight away, and she said, soft but fast, before she lost her courage, ‘Whatever it is you fear most, just say it. It’s my life, too. I deserve to know.’
The silence stretched out too long, and she wondered if she’d have to prompt him again, or make him angry enough to blurt it out, when he whispered right in her ear, ‘But if we make love and you get pregnant, Amber, they’ll have no reason to keep my brother alive.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHO was constantly conspiring against them? Even half naked and moving against each other as if they’d fall to the bed at any moment, it wasn’t going to happen.
Would they ever enjoy a normal marriage, or was it Amber’s pipe dream?
Then she looked into Harun’s eyes, and saw the depth of his fear. Alim is all I have left.
An icy finger ran down her spine as she understood the nightmare he was locked in. How could she find it in her to blame him for putting his brother’s life first?
Slowly, she nodded, trying to force a calm into her voice she was far from feeling—for his sake. ‘Then we won’t make love,’ she said softly.
The intensity of his gratitude shone in the look he flashed at her. ‘Thank you, Amber. I know how much you want a child. This is a sacrifice for you.’
‘If it was one of my family in danger, I’d be saying the exact same thing to you.’ Her voice was a touch shaky despite her best efforts. ‘So tell me what’s next?’
With a brief glance she didn’t quite understand, he moved back to his side of the table. ‘I checked the room pretty thoroughly while you slept. There’s no window that isn’t watched, no door or way out that isn’t fully guarded, including the roof. And as you saw, there are snipers everywhere.’
‘So that’s it?’ she asked in disbelief. ‘We’re stuck in this golden cage until someone pays our ransom?’
Slowly he nodded. ‘Yes,’ was all he said, and her stomach gave a sick lurch. Then he gave her a knowing look. It clicked into place—of course, the guards were listening in. They had to be careful what they said aloud. ‘We’re stuck here—and if you don’t like it, remember you agreed to marry me.’
Not knowing what he wanted from her, she made herself give a delicate shrug, as if being abducted were something she was used to. ‘Well, at least they’re treating us better than Alim was treated in Africa.’
‘And that’s just as well, since Alim was always the action man in the family.’
The look in his eyes said he’d almost rather be treated badly. She frowned.
‘You feel shamed by this abduction?’
He didn’t look at her as he said, ‘I can’t get you out of this danger we’re in, Amber. I searched out every possible way, but there’s none that gets us both out, and in safety. I don’t know what they want, but we have no choice but to comply.’
‘And that makes you feel incompetent? Harun, you were drugged and brought here against your will—’
‘But that didn’t happen to Alim, did it? He sacrificed himself. He was even a hero in being abducted.’ His jaw tightened. ‘What sort of man am I if I can’t even fight, or find a way for us to escape? If Alim couldn’t rescue himself, what hope does someone like me have of getting us both out of here?’
The unspoken words shimmered in the air. Even when he was taken, Alim had sacrificed himself, risked his life to save the woman he loved. I am less than a man in comparison to my brother.
His voice rang with conviction—the kind that came from intimate knowledge of truth of feeling. And she wondered how many times he’d felt that way before he’d become a hero in his own right. How hard had it been to be the younger, quieter brother of the nation’s hero, to live in the shadow of a world superstar?
‘Someone like you?’ As she repeated the words an unexpected surge of hot anger filled her, at what she wasn’t yet sure, but its very ferocity demanded she find out. ‘How did they take you?’ she shot at him.
He shrugged again. It was another cool, careless thing, a barrier in itself, and, three years too late, she realised that this was what he did, how he pushed people away before he’d say something he might regret. ‘Tell me, Harun!’
‘Fine,’ he growled. ‘I came into the room, and saw you being dragged away. I had no time, I just ran after you, and they took me, too. Because I didn’t stop to think it through, I failed you. And yes, before you say it, I know Alim would have done better!’
‘How would he have done that?’ she snapped, even angrier now.
He shook his head. ‘If I’d stopped to think—if I’d called the guard—’
‘Then they might have got away, and I’d be here alone, terrified out of my mind.’ She slammed her hand down on the table. ‘I don’t care what Alim would have done. He isn’t here. You’re here, because you tried to save me. You didn’t have to do that!’
‘And what a wonderful job I did of it, getting drugged myself, and ending up with us both in this prison,’ he retorted, self-mockingly.
As if incensed, she grabbed his shoulders. ‘You’re here with me, Harun. You think you’re nothing like Alim? You’re just like him! You’re more of a hero to me than he can ever be. Do you think he’d have sacrificed his freedom for me the way you have? Don’t you know what you did—how much it means to me?’
He looked up at her, a look she couldn’t decipher in his eyes. ‘You’ve never willingly touched me before,’ he said slowly.
Lost in an odd wonder, she looked down, to where his fingers curled around her arms. ‘Nor you me, before today,’ she whispered. Suddenly she found it hard to breathe.
Too quickly, they both released the other, and she felt as bereft as he looked, for a bare moment in time, both breathing hard, as if from running an unseen race. It felt so real. Was it real? She only wished she knew.
‘I—I’m so glad you’re here with me, Harun,’ she said, very quietly. ‘No matter how it happened. Without you, I…’ She shook her head, not sure what it was she was going to say. ‘I’m glad it’s you,’ she whispered, so soft he probably couldn’t hear it.
‘Amber.’
So quietly spoken, that word, her name, and yet… She was torn between so many remembered humiliations and unfamiliar, almost frightening hope, her lips parted. She looked into his eyes, and saw—
The door rattled and opened.
* * *
Just as she’d looked up into his eyes like that—with a softened, almost hopeful expression, the real woman, not the part she was playing, he knew, could feel it—the noise of the rattling handle broke the moment. At the entry of the man swathed in his sand-hued outfit and headscarf, Amber had started, flushed scarlet and looked back down at her plate as if nothing else existed.
Harun couldn’t stand up until he had control of his body—and that was a task of near-impossible proportions, given what she was almost wearing. Thus he’d desperately thought of this farce of play-acting for those watching them. If they’d known he was hurtling down the invisible highway of a man condemned to fulfilling the prophecy they’d put in place for him, they’d leave him totally alone with Amber—your wife, she’s your wife—and she looked like the gates to paradise…
Stop it! Just don’t look at her.
She wasn’t looking at him like that now. In fact she wasn’t looking at him at all. She waited until their guard had cleared away their food trays and left the room, before murmuring, ‘Are you sure there’s no way out of here? I think we should check the rooms together. There might be something…’
Pride reared its useless head for a moment, but with a struggle he subdued it. Even if he could easily take offence, he chose not to start another fight. Besides that, they both needed something to distract them right now—at least he did, and desperately.
‘Good idea,’ was all he could manage to say. ‘I was drugged still when I looked. I might have missed something.’ He knew he hadn’t, but he had to get away from her.
She must have seen him stiffen. She peered at him, anxiety clear to read in her eyes. ‘I just want to be sure—and, really, what else is there for us to do right now?’
He could think of something else incredible, amazing, and dangerous to do—but he nodded, trying not to look at the sweet delight before him. ‘You need to know for yourself. I would have, too.’
Her voice was filled with warmth and relief. ‘Thank you.’
Why wasn’t it a cold evening? Then he could cover her with the bed sheet—a towel—anything. Not that it would help; the image of her unfettered loveliness had been burned in his brain since their wedding night. ‘You try out here, while I do the bathroom.’
After shoving her chair back, she froze. ‘I—I don’t…I think I’d prefer if we stayed together. That is, if you don’t mind,’ she said in a very small voice. She still wasn’t looking at him, but, from the fiery blush before, she was far too pale.
Harun cursed himself in silence for thinking only of himself, his needs. Amber was frightened, and he was all she had. Who else could she turn to for strength and reassurance? ‘Of course I’ll stay with you,’ he said gently. ‘Where would you prefer to begin?’
Without warning she scraped the chair back and bolted to him. ‘I c-can’t think. I don’t know what to do.’ She pushed at his shoulders in obvious intent.
Forcing compassion and tenderness to overcome every other need right now, he pushed his chair back, and pulled her onto his lap. He held her close, caressing those shining waves of dark-honey hair. ‘I’m here, Amber. Whatever happens, I won’t leave you.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered in a shaky voice, burrowing her face into his neck. ‘I’ll be better in a minute. It’s just that man—his silence terrifies me. And those guns…I can’t stop seeing them in my mind.’
‘It would scare anyone senseless,’ he agreed, resting his chin on her hair. Don’t think of anything else. She needs you.
‘Were you scared? In the war, I mean?’ she whispered into his neck. Her warm breath caressed his skin, and sent hot shivers of need through him. Every moment the struggle grew harder to not touch her. Just by being so close against him, she made his whole body ache with even hotter desire.
Could she feel what she was doing to him? He’d been permanently aroused since waking up the first time; his dreams had been filled with fevered visions of them that he couldn’t dismiss, no matter how he tried.
For Amber’s sake, control yourself. She doesn’t want you, she needs reassurance.
‘Of course I was scared,’ he said quietly, forcing the safe rhythm, palm smoothing her hair. ‘Everyone was, no matter what they say.’
The Sheikh's Jewel Page 8
