Climax of Passion

by Emma Darcy

  ‘What happens now?’ Amanda asked.

  ‘We strike off into the mountains on our own. We will ride hard and fast. I will not spare you.’

  He paused to reflect a moment. ‘You asked for my trust. I give it.’ He looked at her with hard unyielding eyes. ‘I hope you are worthy of it. The price of betrayal is death.’

  It sent a quiver of fear down Amanda’s spine. Was he speaking of his betrayal in not following the sheikh’s orders, or the vengeance he would wreak on her if she betrayed his trust?

  Amanda quickly gave him her assurance. ‘I will not betray you.’

  ‘And the cock crowed three times,’ he said sardonically.

  It was a wretched feeling, being torn two ways, Amanda reflected. She wondered if she would end up betraying the promise she’d made to her father. ‘I’m sorry you feel that,’ she said quietly.

  The soft words seemed to spur him on. ‘We are now set on the path that leads to either heaven or hell. There is no in-between. There is no going back. Unless you do so now. You can say goodbye and we will never meet again. You can link up with the convoy as it passes through the village of Tirham. Make your choice.’

  His inner tension reached across to her, squeezing her heart. She knew intuitively he was playing the biggest gamble of his life. What that gamble was she could only guess at. She had no doubt he wanted her with him, wanted her to prove her mettle, yet there was this hesitation within him, perhaps because she was a woman and he considered any woman softer, weaker than himself.

  She remembered the way he had withdrawn from her in the tent, observing that she was a woman. And this morning he had remained aloof, pressing nothing except organisational commands. Had he deliberately refrained from applying any emotional influence so that she could freely make the decision he now offered her?

  It affronted Amanda.

  ‘How could any woman resist your entreaties when they are put in such endearing terms?’ she mocked at him. ‘Of course my decision must be to go with you.’

  Once again there was a flash of compelling respect in his eyes. It was a look Amanda would have gone to the grave for. All her miserable existence as the butt of jokes dissolved into a nonentity of the past. To earn the respect of such a man as this squashed every cruel malicious word spoken by Charles Arnold and others of that ilk.

  She looked at the strong ageless face, saw the loneliness behind it, and knew she was not alone. The yearning for a true companion was sufficient to take any risk.

  ‘I’ll go on with you,’ she repeated simply.

  ‘So be it,’ he answered.

  She caught a brief raw blaze of desire before he turned his head forward. Amanda’s heart began a wild pumping. She had taken the plunge. It should be fear she was feeling, she thought, but it wasn’t. It was excitement.

  She wondered what manner of man she was dealing with, who could offer her heaven or hell—whatever one or the other or both would be like—then ride on towards it with a bold hand on the rein of her horse.

  If she wanted to let her mare gallop, she had to loosen the bridle. That was the thought uppermost in her mind.

  Then she wondered about herself. That she could make the choice so easily...and ride with him... wherever he cared to take her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AMANDA was determined not to wilt. By late afternoon it was sheer willpower that kept her in the saddle.

  They had ridden hard and fast. She was certainly not spared. The mountain trails were rough and became narrower and narrower. There was no such thing as an easy walk, let alone a canter. Galloping, thank heaven, was too dangerous to attempt on this terrain.

  Every bone in her body was jolted. Every muscle screamed in protest. It was just as well that the black mare followed the white stallion without any urging. Amanda was reduced to hanging on. How much further? she longed to ask, but pride would not allow her any confession of weakness.

  When they’d stopped for lunch, hours ago, she had still felt fine. The morning ride had been a lot faster but not nearly so arduous. They had emerged from the forest to slopes that were terraced for agriculture. There were apricot and apple orchards, fig and olive trees. It had been quite pleasant, climbing to the high pastures which were dotted with flocks of sheep.

  That was all behind them now. Scattered stands of green oak and juniper trees grew between outcrops of bare rock, but vegetation was sparse this far up amongst crumbling gullies and limestone ledges. Amanda was in no state to appreciate the scenery anyway. She figured she was going through the hell part of the path they were set upon, and the heaven part had better make up for it.

  At last they came to a resting place. It was like an oasis in a mountain desert. For a few moments, Amanda wondered if she was hallucinating. She blinked several times but the natural rock-pool was still there. So was a glade of pine trees and grazing grass for the horses.

  ‘We’ll camp here for the night.’

  It was a welcome announcement. The only problem was, Amanda didn’t think she had strength enough to get off her horse. She watched Upgrade dismount with an easy fluid action. His legs weren’t seized up. His arms weren’t limp.

  Mind over matter, she sternly advised herself.

  It didn’t help. The messages from her brain simply didn’t penetrate to her booted feet. They remained stuck in the stirrups. She did manage to unclench her fingers from the reins and grab hold of the pommel of her saddle.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m incapable of moving,’ she declared ruefully. ‘I’ve never been riding this long. It’s not that I’m weak,’ she argued. ‘I’m simply all used up.’

  She didn’t realise the words came out slurred. She thought they were very precise and her logic was perfectly reasonable.

  Amanda wasn’t quite sure how he got her off the horse but his arm around her waist certainly assisted. She was glad he didn’t try to set her on her feet because she had the feeling her knees would buckle. It felt extremely comforting to be cradled securely in his arms. He carried her some distance and laid her gently on the grass.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he said.

  ‘Mmmh,’ she answered, overwhelmed with fatigue.

  She closed her eyes and let herself float above the aches and pains. She felt her riding boots being eased off her feet and vaguely thought that was a good idea. Loosen up her toes. Her jeans were another matter. When he unfastened them and started pulling them down, Amanda jolted out of her daze of exhaustion. Undressing her to that extent was distinctly inappropriate. She was in no condition to feel or respond to anything.

  ‘Not yet,’ she mumbled.

  ‘I’m going to massage your legs with liniment.’

  ‘Sensible,’ she agreed, relieved that nothing was expected of her.

  He had wonderful hands. Wonderful liniment. It spread tingling heat deep into her muscles. Or so it seemed. Amanda thought she could take a lot of what he was doing to her. Her legs were beginning to feel as though they belonged to her again.

  When he started working on her toes, there were definitely messages working up through her body to her brain. Squirmy, exciting, little messages. She had read somewhere that women could have orgasms from having their toes fondled. She thought it would be interesting to check it out.

  ‘I’ll do your back now.’

  With that assurance, Amanda saw no reason to resist being further undressed. He unfastened the burnoose, unbuttoned her shirt, lifted her a little to draw the sleeves from her arms, then gently rolled her onto a rug that he must have fetched from one of the packhorses.

  He covered her legs, keeping them warm, then removed her bra and swept her hair aside. She still had her panties on and she had lain on many a beach like this, so there was really nothing to feel self-conscious about. The fact that she was alone with a man halfway up the Atlas Mountains didn’t change anything. He was the right man.

  Besides, he was being very professional, like a nurse, and it was undoubtedly for her own good. His slow, deep, control
led breathing indicated nothing. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help wondering how much he liked what he saw, how really physically appealing she was to him, whether touching her was pleasurable, exciting...and where it would stop. If it did.

  He moved to kneel astride her, his knees pinning the rug on either side of her thighs. Amanda’s eyes were closed but the image of him poised directly over her supine body burned into her mind, stirring an exquisite sensitivity to his touch. It wasn’t until he had worked over her back and shoulder muscles for some time that Amanda could relax completely and simply let the soothing motion flow through her.

  She drifted off into a sensual dream where she was floating on a gentle sea and delicious waves rolled around her bottom, making her feel especially soft, buoyant and feminine. Then utter oblivion swallowed the dream and she was aware of nothing until she awoke to a range of little noises; horses snuffling, the crackle and spit of a camp fire burning, the soft crunch of footsteps.

  She became conscious of other things. She was warmly and softly cocooned in a sleeping bag, a makeshift pillow under her head. It was dark. The sky was ablaze with stars. There was the smell of coffee with a touch of cloves. Her body, when she moved it, was slightly stiff in the joints, but no longer aching. She turned herself slowly towards the sounds and the smell.

  He was crouched beside the fire, his body still cloaked in the burnoose, but with the hood thrown back. The flickering light threw his profile into sharp relief. Again she thought he had the kind of strong, noble face that was struck on ancient coins. Its ageless quality suggested an endurance that could suffer and rise above any adversity. Indomitable.

  She wondered about his origins. He didn’t look Arabic. The Berbers were a Caucasian race, but he didn’t look like one of them, either. Perhaps, he was simply unique to himself and that set him apart, contributing to his loneliness.

  He was still holding himself apart from her despite the need he had revealed, despite her willingness to embrace the man he was and go with him wherever he led. Was he having second thoughts? Did her collapse after the long ride diminish her in his eyes?

  She wished she could tell what he was thinking...feeling. She wished she had woken up in his arms. She was sure that the physical contact would have reduced everything to simpler, more basic terms. Her body tingled with the memory of his hands moving over her bared flesh. He already knew her far more intimately than she knew him. If she called to him now...

  ‘Have I slept long?’ she asked.

  He wasn’t startled by her voice. He turned his head to look at her, his face gathering shadows that made his expression indecipherable. ‘It is almost dawn. We must leave soon.’

  His voice was quiet, calm, decisive. So much for any thought of making love! This man was not about to be tempted from the course set in his mind. His air of relentless, ruthless purpose was not softened or mitigated in any way.

  Amanda felt decidedly frustrated. She was both surprised and chagrined to find she had slept a good eight hours, the night was virtually over, and she was none the wiser about Mr Complimentary Upgrade apart from the fact of him being a superb masseur.

  She suddenly realised her stomach felt very empty. ‘I need food,’ she said bluntly, wary of the pace he had set yesterday and the need to restore a high energy level.

  ‘We will eat as soon as you have washed and dressed. You will find fresh clothes beside you.’

  The thought of another day’s riding made Amanda quail inside. ‘Aren’t the horses tired?’ It was the only excuse she could think of that might allow her more rest.

  ‘They are. They are also mountain bred. They will not let fatigue hold us up.’

  Amanda sighed. A petulant stand was out of the question. She would lose his respect. She had made her choice, accepted his conditions, and it ill behove her not to continue with as good a grace as she could muster. Particularly since he was looking after her aches and pains and feeding her as best he could.

  He was organised and efficient. By the time Amanda had finished breakfast, the camp fire was doused and scattered into non-existence, everything was packed up, the horses were saddled, and there was no trace left behind of their night’s sojourn here. Amanda wondered if he was still concerned about idle eyes. Or was he expecting Xa Shiraq to have them tracked once it was realised they were no longer with the convoy?

  The sky was lightening as he helped her mount the black mare. Her bottom settled gingerly on the contours of the saddle. Amanda decided, on behalf of the torture her muscles were anticipating, that one small challenge was in order.

  ‘I think it’s only fair you should tell me how far we’re going today so I can get myself mentally prepared for it. After all, a marathon runner knows he only has to pace himself through twenty-six miles, three hundred and eighty-five yards. How many yards do I need to pace myself through?’ she added dryly.

  ‘Many,’ he said.

  ‘Thanks for the precision,’ Amanda rejoined.

  He pointed to the highest point of the mountain range they were traversing. ‘That is our destination. If you can steel yourself to the journey, we should make it there in good time.’

  In good time for what? she wondered. ‘Does it have a name?’

  ‘In Arabic it is called the Gemini Peak.’

  ‘Does it have a twin?’

  ‘To the north. Where your convoy is going to. We cannot view it from here,’ he said dismissively.

  Amanda’s grey cells hit turbo assist as they went into overdrive. Pieces of the puzzle left by her father slotted neatly into place with those few words from Mr Complimentary Upgrade. A twin peak to the one her father had described!

  No wonder her father’s discovery had been discredited. No wonder that no one else had been able to refind the caves her father had spoken of. They were being directed to the wrong mountain top!

  Every map, including the precious one she had so carefully kept to herself, positioned the crystal caves on the peak to the north of the wine village of Tirham. Its twin peak, to the south, was not entered on any map Amanda had seen. The omission had to be deliberate and her father somehow misled about direction. That was why Xa Shiraq’s duplicity had lain unrevealed for so long.

  Upgrade knew the answer to it all. He was betraying his sheikh to show her the secret. It explained the restraint he had forced upon himself, no matter how pressing or urgent the desire he felt for her. First, he would give her what she wanted, what she had come to achieve. Only after that was accomplished would he come to her as her lover. Only when he had given all he had to give.

  It touched Amanda deeply. When the time came, she would repay this man with all the love and affection and tenderness in her heart. What he was doing for her was a sacrifice of heroic proportions. Her instinctive reactions to him had been so right.

  He had already mounted. She urged the black mare up beside the white stallion before he set off. ‘Come what may,’ she said with renewed determination, ‘I will ride with you this day. I will not fail you. I will not falter. I’ll be with you at the end.’

  His stygian black eyes gleamed their approval. ‘That is how it should be,’ he said simply. He turned his horse’s head, and led off into the blaze of glory as the sun crested the mountain ridges with its mantle of fire.

  Amanda found it impossible to estimate the distance they had to cover. It was reassuring to know where the termination point was. Bubbles of adrenaline spurred her on. What had once appeared so unattainable was now within reach.

  The thrill of knowing that her father, now dead, could figuratively hold his head high in pride diminished the jolting, bruising ride. There was a sense of purpose in the gruelling journey, although she still didn’t know what the end result would be.

  She pondered further on the problem as they rode steadily upwards. Perhaps the Gemini Peak marked the border between Xabia and another country. Furthermore, it might be a safe route for her out of Xa Shiraq’s grasp.

  Considering the crimes listed against her, Aman
da realised that Upgrade could be rescuing her from a lengthy term of highly unpleasant imprisonment, as well as saving his own skin from retribution. It made sense of the speed he pressed on her, and the need to avoid any possible witnesses to their passage into these mountains.

  Amanda was not keen on running away. Not if she actually found the crystal caves. It nagged at her mind. Would Upgrade be happy as an exile to a country he had served with great personal commitment? Would she be happy knowing her mission to establish the truth of her father’s discovery was aborted without full restitution being made? Could anyone ever scuttle all that had made up their past lives?

  Amanda felt as rootless as her father had been. She had a conviction that some things were worth fighting for. Like justice. And fair play. Her instincts told her it would be better for both her and Upgrade if they faced up to Xa Shiraq.

  The problem lay in whether Upgrade would agree to it or not. Could she rescue him from Xa Shiraq’s wrath by playing her cards right, forcing a stand-off so that Upgrade didn’t have to face exile? Power could be challenged with power. Firstly, she would have to re-establish contact with Mocca, then get to her embassy. Amanda had a lot of faith in Mocca’s resourcefulness.

  Once that had been done, and she had her own government’s support, she would beard Xa Shiraq in his den. There were ways and means of establishing a truce once she had her bargaining tool.

  As plans revolved around Amanda’s mind, she started taking more notice of landmarks along the trail they travelled. She might have to go back alone if Upgrade rejected her ideas. He would follow her. She had no doubt of that. However, she might very well need a head start to accomplish what she wanted.

  The day wore on. They didn’t stop. A water canteen and a bag of dried fruit and biscuits were attached to Amanda’s saddle. She didn’t starve and she didn’t die of thirst but the long exhausting ride took its toll. She was almost reeling with fatigue when a halt was finally called beside a small rocky mountain stream that trickled down from the peak.