Stormy Affair

by Mayo, Margaret

  For several long moments there was silence between them, a deep tangible silence that filled the car, making Amber more tense with every second that passed. Hamed's foot went down on the accelerator and Amber, who had thought he was already going flat out, felt the car surge forward at an even more alarming rate. She wanted to cry out but knew that to do so

  would add fuel to his already heightened temper.

  People and villages flew by and she closed her eyes, convinced they would have an accident, while at the same time grudgingly admiring the way he handled the car. It was as though it was part of him. He knew his own and the vehicle's capabilities and so far as he was concerned there was no danger. It was only Amber who feared for her life. At last she could stand it no longer. 'For goodness' sake,' she exclaimed, 'are you trying to get us both killed?'

  'Scared, are you?' he mocked, 'Perhaps it will make you change your mind. Your destiny lies in your own hands.'

  'You mean—' Amber's golden eyes widened incredulously, 'this is another form of blackmail? Well, let me tell you, Mr Slouma, I don't like your methods of persuasion. They're despicable ! ' She was breathing rapidly now, for the moment forgetting they were in the car and that she ought not to be distracting his attention. 'If you think I'm going to change my mind you're very much mistaken. I wouldn't go out with you again if you were the last man on earth!'

  He seemed amused, a smile flickering on his lips, though it was impossible to read his true expression since he kept his eyes on the road. 'You may have to take back those words, my passionate one. If I were you I would think very carefully before I speak.'

  'What do you mean? You can't make me see you again. I've had enough of you and your moods. Next time I date a man I shall make certain he's placid and peaceful.'

  'He would not suit you.' Still that aggravating smile. 'You need a man of fire and passion. Have you not

  found that out? Do not tell me my kisses have not stirred your blood—for I know it is true. The type of man you mention would do nothing for you—his lovemaking would be as passionless as his nature. You need me, Amber. Your body responds to mine even though you are ready to deny it. Do you not believe in fate. We were destined to meet, you and I, and now I have found you I am never going to let you go.'

  A prickle of fear ran down Amber's spine. He sounded so confident. There was no doubt in his mind that he spoke the truth. But how could he accomplish this unless she herself agreed?

  Almost as if in answer to her unspoken question Hamed slowed down and swung the car off the road on to what was little more than a narrow dirt track. Panic rose in Amber's throat, threatening to choke her. This was not the way they had come. Where was he taking her? What was he going to do? 'Stop!' she shrieked, almost unable to recognise her own voice. It sounded high-pitched and frightened. She was frightened. Her palms were moist and she held them against her ears as if trying to shut out this terrible thing that was happening to her. 'Hamed—where are you taking me? I demand that you stop, that you turn round right now and take me back to the hotel!'

  He still drove fast, though there was not the necessity now for him to give all his attention to the road. His head turned towards her and he smiled, his slightly uneven teeth showing up with startling whiteness against his tanned skin. 'Do not be afraid. I am going to show you my house.'

  But to Amber that smile held menace and though his voice was soft she knew he would not yield. He

  was hard, all through; a ruthless man, determined to possess her, and who would let nothing stand in his way. Why, oh, why had she agreed to come out with him today? Why hadn't she found out more about him before allowing herself to become involved? All along she had had doubts—had felt that there was, some ulterior motive behind his friendship—and now she knew. He was kidnapping her. She would never be seen by her friends again.

  What had he in mind? she wondered. Was she to be his plaything? He had made no secret of the fact that he found her body desirable—and she, her cheeks flamed at the thought, had responded. Was it because he knew what he could do to her? Was he perhaps taking her home to satisfy his own erotic desires? Was he, like the Arabs he had warned her of, attracted by the fairness of her hair and when all other methods had failed had seen this as the only way to get her to himself?

  Her mind was a turmoil, thoughts racing chaotically inside her head. They were driving through an orange grove, the fruit already ripening on the trees, but Amber paid scant attention to her surroundings. If she did not escape now it would be too late. Dared she risk throwing herself from the car? But where could she run? His long legs would soon catch up with her. It appeared there was no way out; she must accept what fate held in store. But not without a fight!

  The trees thinned and the road curved and suddenly straight in front of them, was an immense white/ villa. Many of the houses she had seen had been little more than squat white buildings, though occasionally there had been better class houses with gardens and

  flowers, but these had been in the minority. The one facing her now was like nothing else she had seen. It was so beautiful it took her breath away and for a few seconds she forgot to be angry.

  The roof was domed and below it were several windows and doors leading out on to a terrace. This was reached by curved staircases on either side and supported by arabesque arches. Through the ornamental arches was a large entrance door painted blue and studded with black nails in an intricate pattern. Round the edge of the terrace were wrought iron railings, also painted blue, and covering each window a picturesque 'half-fig' of wrought iron, which Amber knew was called a mashrabia and had once been used as a sort of blind from which cloistered wives could see but not be seen. Blue and white were colours predominantly used in Tunisia—white to combat the heat and blue to repel the flies. Domes helped the air circulate inside.

  It was a few moments before Amber realised that the car had stopped and Hamed was holding open her door. Reality returned. 'If you're expecting to take me inside,' she snapped, 'you're mistaken!'

  One thick brow quirked. 'You are not impressed by my house. I thought you woud find it fascinating.'

  'It looks very beautiful,' said Amber politely, 'but I'm more interested in getting back to the hotel than admiring where you live.'

  'A pity.' His eyes became flint-like. 'Because I intend taking you inside.'

  Amber remained firmly seated. 'Then you'll have to carry me, because I shan't go in of my own free will.' 'You think I wouldn't?' Almost before he had finished speaking Hamed bent down and sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other round her back he lifted her effortlessly. When she struggled he grinned. 'My little passion flower is fighting. That is good. I should not like you to become submissive.'

  `Oh, I hate you! ' spat Amber, trying in vain to free herself. 'You won't get away with this. I shall see that you're punished. Men like you deserve to be put in prison !'

  `What have I done?' he asked in mock innocence, 'I have invited you to my home. What harm is there in that?'

  `Invited?' screamed Amber. 'You've forced me here against my will.'

  'It is your word against mine, my little one. I am a respected man. I know who they will believe.'

  `So you say, but you've told me nothing about yourself. For all I know this might not even be your house. You're probably just a servant here.' She was speaking irrationally and knew it, but anger drove her on. 'If you're so important tell me who you are.'

  For an answer he smiled enigmatically and kicked on the door. It was opened immediately by a small brown-skinned, surprisingly blue-eyed boy who could be any age between eleven and fifteen. Upon seeing Hamed he beamed and opened the door wider, speaking rapidly in his own language. He showed no surprise at Amber in Hamed's arms and she wondered whether this was not the first time this arrogant man had done this sort of thing. She would not put it past him. Perhaps he kept a harem and she was to become its latest member? Then she scoffed at herself for allowing her thoughts to run away. That sort of thing

/>   did not go on here, or at least she did not think it did!

  Once the door had closed behind them Hamed put her down. 'This is Mohammed,' he said. 'One of my—servants.' He paused, waiting her reaction, but Amber kept her face impassive, not even allowing herself the vestige of a smile for this engaging young Arab. 'Mohammed, this is Miss Christy. Would you please get a room ready for her.'

  The boy nodded and ran off grinning. Hamed took Amber's hand and would have led her forward had it not been for the fact that she wrenched herself free, stamping her foot on the mosaic tiled floor. Her eyes were wide and luminous and definitely apprehensive. 'A room?' she echoed indignantly, all her worst fears coming true. 'What do I Want a room for. I'm not going to stay.'

  'I thought you would want to freshen yourself up,' he said blandly, his arms folded across his broad chest, his head tipped to one side and an expression of amused pleasure softening his harsh features.

  Amber studied him. 'I would like a wash, certainly,' she said guardedly, 'but I don't think that's what you meant. Nor did Mohammed.' It was humiliating to think that the boy should so eagerly have gone to prepare her room. What was going through his mind—did he think she was to become Hamed's concubine?

  'No,' admitted Hamed at length. 'You are right—I do intend to keep you here.'

  'For what reason?' Amber's heartbeats were increasing at an alarming rate. Her mouth was dry and she felt the blood pounding in her head. She pressed her hands to her temples. Not until this moment had the true horror of her situation struck her. 'You can't do

  this. I'm going—I won't stay here a moment longer!' She spun round and faced the door, wondering why her head felt so peculiar. Perhaps it was the heat, coupled with the total unreality of this last hour?

  The walls began to recede and as if from a distance she heard Hamed's voice:

  'I brought you here because I am going to marry you.'

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WHEN Amber came round it took her several seconds to realise what had happened and where she was. The room in which she found herself had a carved domed roof, exquisitely painted in gold. In contrast the walls were starkly white. The cover on the bed was handwoven in shades of red, blue and purple; so too Were the rugs on the floor. Carved furniture in dark polished wood stood against the walls—and beside the bed stood Hamed.

  She looked up into his dark anxious face, wondering whether she had really heard those words or whether it had all been a figment of her imagination.

  'W-what did you say?' she whispered, struggling to rise and resisting strongly when he pushed her back down.

  `That I am going to marry you.' He placed a hand on the pillow each side of her head, lowering his body until his face was alarmingly close. Those powerful dark eyes held her mesmerised, daring her to dispute him.

  'That's what I thought you said.' Her voice shook with suppressed emotion. 'You must be mad! You can't go around making rash statements like that. Doesn't it matter what I feel, what I want to do?' she ended hysterically, feeling very near to tears and wondering exactly how she was going to get out of this

  situation. She was no match for Hamed, that much she knew.

  Slowly he shook his head. 'Not one little bit, at least not until I allow you to voice your opinion. You are now mine and very shortly you will be my wife.'

  The face above her leered into a smile. Amber put up her hands and pushed with all her strength, convinced it was the devil himself who had come to torment her. Those evil eyes blazing into her own surely meant nothing but harm?

  But against Hamed's much greater strength she was pitifully weak. He caught her hands and raised them to his lips, pressing a kiss into each palm before enfolding them in his own. 'My sweet Amber, how lovely you are when you're cross. Your eyes shine like jewels. Do you know they are one of the first things I noticed about you? Such an unusual colour—like a tiger's.'

  He was temporarily relaxed and Amber snatched her hands free, dragging her nails down his cheek and feeling a great sense of satisfaction at the red streaks which became immediately apparent. 'I can also scratch like a tiger,' she spat. 'If you insist on this ridiculous idea of keeping me here you'll find me a very 'wild animal indeed! I don't like being told what I'm going to do, and I shall resist you strongly. You might find you'll regret your decision and wish you'd never brought me here ! '

  Hamed touched his cheek, frowning at the trace of blood on his fingertips. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket he wiped them clean, dabbing ineffectually at his cheek, for the thin lines of blood had already dried. 'I think that extremely unlikely,' he said, 'but if you

  know what is good for you you will not attempt to hurt me again. This time I will forget it, but another time I shall not be so lenient.'

  `And what will the great master do,' cried Amber passionately, 'give me forty strokes of the whip and lock me in a cell? You're a barbarian and I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!' Tears raced down her cheeks. She felt as though she was going out of her mind. Why had she ever left England? Why had she let Dr Greer persuade her that she needed a holiday? It was like a nightmare from which there was no escape. If only she could wake up and find it had all been a dream! She dosed her eyes and opened them again. Hamed Ben Slouma was still there, blurred by her tears but very much alive and very much a part of these nerve-racking circumstances.

  'I think not, my little wildcat. How can you say you hate me when I have only to touch you to have you melt in my arms?'

  Not now that I know what sort of a man you are.' Amber struggled from the bed and stood facing him,

  ' her breathing deep and erratic, her golden eyes sparkling in anger. 'You're despicable! You'll never get away with this. I shall find some way to get my own back.'

  Her threat appeared to amuse him, for his lips quirked as he said, 'I think not, my little one, though it will be interesting to see what you plan to do. My own methods, though, are much more likely to meet with success.'

  Before Amber had time to retreat he stepped forward, placing one firm brown hand on each cheek—his touch warm and gentle, but at the same time firm.

  When she tried to pull back it was to no avail. He

  drew inexorably closer, his eyes never leaving her face.

  Amber trembled, despising herself for the weakness which flowed through her limbs, determined that he should not see the effect he had on her. 'Leave me alone,' she cried. 'Don't touch me '

  But he smiled aggravatingly, his thumbs stroking her cheeks in an entirely sensuous manner. 'Are you afraid of yourself?' he mocked. 'Afraid of the feelings my touch evokes? Do not deny it. Your body gives you away. My sweet Amber, you are so vulnerable, so innocent.' His thumb touched the corner of her mouth, parting her lips, 'and so very desirable.'

  And he desired her ! It was registered in his face. Fearfully Amber ran the tip of her tongue over suddenly dry lips in an unconsciously provocative gesture.

  Hamed groaned and closed his mouth on hers, his lips firm and demanding against her soft moistness. Feeling herself drowning in a tide of emotion, Amber knew she must resist, summon up every ounce of willpower to deny this man. Otherwise all would be lost. He could not make her marry him against her will, she was sure of that, but he could keep her here—and use her to satisfy his own desires. This thought brought strength to her limbs and raising her hands to his chest she pushed with all her strength. Beneath her fingers his heart beat strongly, but he did not move. Instead he lifted his mouth and laughed triumphantly.

  'It is no use trying to escape. You belong to me now. You are mine to do with as I like, and at this moment I want to kiss you very thoroughly.'

  Amber shook her head in anguish. 'You're crazy! I don't belong to you.'

  He shrugged. 'We shall soon be married. What do a few days matter?'

  `To me they make all the difference,' she snapped. `Let me go at once, you—you blackguard!'

  But his arms slid round her back, pulling her close. His lips sought the hollow of her throat, his kisses
burning into her skin until it was all she could do to stop herself arching her body towards him in a gesture of surrender. His teeth and tongue teased as he moved his head upwards, gently biting the lobe of her ear before once again seeking her mouth, ravaging her senses so that she felt confused by the sheer magnitude of her feelings. Her physical awareness of him grew each time he touched her. It was like a white-hot fire burning inside, something over which she had no control.

  The most damning part of this was that he knew. As surely as if she had told him he knew exactly what his kisses did to her—and enjoyed the power it gave him. His mouth moved again to her throat, one hand cupping the rounded fullness of her breast. 'Flamed, no—' began Amber, knowing she should stop him, but threatened by a weakness which filled every limb. Her head spun as his touch sent spirals of ecstasy cavorting round her body. `Please—'

  His mouth effectively stemmed her half-hearted protest and she knew she had lost. Her appetite whetted and hungry now for his love, she pressed her body close to his, feeling his hard muscular thighs against hers, aware of the urgency of his body. Her hands crept round the back of his neck, pulling his head closer. Sane reasoning departed. Every inch of her craved for his touch. This wanting a man was an entirely new

  feeling for Amber. Never before had she felt so shameless, so entirely without self-respect. Her lips moved against his, inviting, appealing.

  'Amber,' he breathed hoarsely, picking her up and carrying her across to the bed.

  It was not until he began to undo the buttons on the front of her dress that Amber came to her senses and her eyes widened in shocked dismay. What had she been thinking? How could she have cheapened herself to such an extent as to let this man think that he could—her cheeks flamed, unable even to voice to herself what he might have done. 'No, Hamed, no!' she exclaimed wildly, trying to fight off his urgent hands.