Stormy Affair

by Mayo, Margaret

  He stopped abruptly, a frown darkening his handsome face. 'What is this? What kind of a woman are you to stop me now? I did not notice you resisting a few moments ago.'

  'I didn't know what I was doing. I must have been mad to let you touch me! '

  `No, not mad,' he said calmly, 'merely feminine. You cannot help yourself, so why try to fight what you most desire?'

  Amber's eyes flashed angrily. 'You conceited pig! How dare you assume to know what I feel ! If I wanted you do you think I would be pushing you away now?'

  'A token resistance,' came the smooth reply.

  The fact that her temper had no effect on him outraged her even further. 'Is that what you think? Well, let me tell you, Mr High and Mighty Slouma, the feel of your hands on my body makes my skin crawl! I merely gave in to you because—well, because I thought it would be the easiest way out.'

  His eyes narrowed. 'And when you found things were getting a little out of hand you panicked. Is that what you're trying to tell me?' And as she nodded he continued, 'Well, let me now tell you something. I am no innocent when it comes to women—so you are either a superb actress or you are lying. I tend to think it is the latter. I am tempted to find out—but you have earned your reprieve,' he lifted himself from the bed and stood surveying her, an odd light in his dark eyes, 'for the time being. Perhaps you would like to wash and change before joining me downstairs. You will find plenty of clothes in the wardrobe, all of which are your size.'

  Amber gasped, her eyes flickering to the huge cupboard and back towards Hamed, but he was already leaving the room. When the door closed behind him she sat up, her eyes wide with apprehension. He must have planned this down to the last detail if he had gone to the trouble of supplying her with clothes—unless he entertained frequently. A thought which surprisingly she found distasteful.

  Curiosity now got the better of her and she crossed the room and swung open the heavy door, catching her breath in wonder at the fine array of dresses. There were clothes to suit every occasion—evening dresses, day dresses, skirts, blouses, even trousers—and on the shelves at the side were shorts and tops, swimwear. A drawer in the dresser revealed exquisite undergarments, lace bras and delicate matching briefs—all of which were her size exactly. How he had known she had no idea, unless his experience with women had enabled him to assess her size accurately. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of Hamed choosing these intimate garments and she felt like tearing each one into shreds. It would do her no good, though, she acknowledged resignedly. The best she could do would be to appear to accept the situation and hope she could find some way of escaping before he carried out his threat to marry her.

  A bathroom led off her bedroom, exquisite in summer blue with jade towels adding bold colour. It looked cool and restful, and the thought of lying for a few minutes in warm perfumed water appealed instantly to Amber. It would help relieve her inner tension, though she was sure nothing could take away the numbness which had settled around her heart.

  She was disturbed to find there were no locks on any of the doors and her heart beat just a little quicker as she slipped out of her clothes. The water caressed her skin like silk and closing her eyes she could almost forget the horror of her situation. This was such a beautiful house it was a pity that she had been brought here under protest. At any other time she would have been enchanted. It was far more luxurious than anything else she had ever known. But the thought that at any moment Hamed could walk in was sufficiently disturbing to stop her from lingering in the bath.

  She dressed in a pretty, short cotton dress in the palest of greens. It fitted her perfectly. It was simple, yet she knew instinctively it had cost a lot of money and her brow furrowed as to why he should go to so much trouble and expense on her behalf. Right from the beginning of their association he had puzzled her. There was so much he knew about her, yet he was remarkably reticent about himself. Why? Had he something to hide—or was there some perfectly simple explanation? If there was she would like to know.

  The sun had tanned her skin to honey gold and she needed no make-up. The face that looked back in the mirror revealed none of her inner torment. She looked a happy, carefree girl enjoying her holiday in the sun. Her fair hair was several shades lighter than when she had arrived and she brushed it now until it lay like silk about her shoulders. She knew she was attractive, but not exceptionally so that Hamed should single her out. Her frown returned as she slipped her feet into a pair of white high-heeled sandals and opened the door.

  Outside in the corridor she stopped, unsure which way to go, but she had walked no more than a few steps when Hamed appeared. His easy smile caused her heart to flip, while at the same time she despised herself for allowing these feelings to surface. She permitted no answering smile to soften her lips, holding her head aloof as she walked towards him.

  Her action did not go unnoticed. 'You are so much prettier when you smile,' he said, 'and the dress ,is perfect. The colour complements your honey-coloured hair and those cat-like eyes. Why spoil the effect? Are you still angry with me?' The scratches on his cheek were hardly noticeable now, but his bright eyes showed that he had neither forgotten nor forgiven.

  `Until you let me go I shall never be otherwise,' retorted Amber coolly. 'What do you expect me to do—jump for joy that I'm receiving the undivided attention of a rich and handsome man?'

  `What makes you think I am rich?' He draped a hand carelessly about her shoulders, leading her forward to the white-painted staircase which had suddenly come into view.

  `All this,' she said, with an expressive wave of one hand, trying to shrug herself free only to find his grip tightening, 'and the fact that you can apparently afford to buy me a whole wardrobe of clothes—unless you always keep them there for just such emergencies?'

  His lips quirked. 'Would it bother you to think I did?'

  'Not in the least,' lied Amber, 'nor would it surprise me to discover you make a habit of this sort of thing.'

  'I am sorry you have such a low opinion,' he said softly. 'I'm not really so bad as you think—if you would only allow yourself the chance to find out.'

  'The chance ! ' scoffed Amber 'Nothing you've yet done or said has given me reason to have confidence in you. You apparently knew all about me before you conveniently rescued me in the medina, yet you refuse to disclose your interest. Was it your plan then to marry me? Was that your ultimate aim?' Stiff with anger, she turned at the bottom of the stairs, glaring at Hamed, daring him to refute her statement.

  'My sweet one,' he said, completely indifferent to her temper, 'would you believe me if I said no? Of course you wouldn't, not in the mood you are in now. Come, we will take a drink and then I will show you my house.'

  The room he ushered her into was carpeted in thick white fur, but there were no chairs, merely large cushions placed on the floor. In front of them were low tables, pinned on the white walls were woven rugs and in a corner stood an open-fronted cabinet well stocked with drinks.

  Amber could not help exclaiming aloud at the

  simple yet effective furnishings.

  `You like it?' he asked, looking pleased. 'A typical Tunisian room. The rest of my house has European furniture, but I like to keep this room for my special guests. It helps them feel they are sampling my way of life.'

  Amber lowered herself on to one of the full, soft cushions. 'You speak very good English. It's sometimes difficult to believe you're an Arab.'

  He handed her a glass filled with pale, almost white, wine. 'I was educated in England. Indeed I had many happy years there. My maternal grandparents were English and I spent most of my youth with them.'

  `Are they still alive?' At last she was learning something about this man who had so dramatically altered her whole life.

  `No, I am afraid not—nor my parents—and as I was an only child you could say I am alone in the world. We are two of a kind, you and I, both alone, both needing company. A perfect situation, don't you think?' He lowered himself on to a cushion at her side
, leaning forward, awaiting her answer.

  `The hell I do,' snapped Amber. 'I don't know how you know so much about me, but you're mistaken if you think my being parentless makes me easy game for you. If and when I decide to marry it will certainly be to no one like you. I prefer to make my own decisions, not have them made for me.'

  He sipped his drink and studied her with open amusement. 'It is a pity you think the way you do. It will make my task twice as hard—persuading you that I am the right man to be your husband.'

  'If you ask me,' persisted Amber, 'I would say it's an

  impossible task. I shall never agree, never. So you may as well give up now and take me back to my hotel. Does it not bother you that my friends will wonder what's happened when I don't turn up this evening?'

  He shrugged laconically. 'Why should it? You are my only concern. Tomorrow your luggage will be delivered here and then there will be nothing left for you to worry about.'

  The casualness with which he made this statement enraged Amber even further. She swallowed her drink in one mouthful and struggled to her feet, bursting into a torrent of angry words. 'That's the last straw ! This time you've gone too far. How dare you condescend to take over my affairs ! I demand that you take me back to the Sahara Beach right now.' She stamped one elegant foot on the thick carpet. 'Now, do you hear! I will not remain in your house one moment longer! '

  Slowly and effortlessly he hauled himself up. 'You are wasting your breath, my sweet one. My plans are made.' A trace of laughter still lingered on his lips and his dark eyes probed her body as though he would like nothing more at that moment than to make love. 'Whether you agree or not I intend to make you mine. I Want you more than any other woman I have met, and rest assured I always get what I want.' He stepped forward and Amber found herself powerless to move, even though instinct told her what he was going to do.

  With a gentleness strange for so big a man Hamed touched her cheek. 'You are so beautiful, my passion flower. Can you not understand why it is that I desire you? You are like a breath of my beloved England come back to me.' His eyes narrowed as his hand moved

  slowly down her throat and with a sudden savage movement he drew her to him.

  Amber closed her eyes, letting herself go limp. To resist would get her nowhere—besides, she could not deny the clamouring of her pulses. There emanated from Hamed a magnetism that any woman would find hard to deny. His strong personal charm overrode any anger she might feel. She was as malleable as putty in his hands even though she knew it was imperative she try to keep hidden her attraction towards him. Strong as it might be, she had a certain code of ethics and a man who treated her as had Hamed today did not deserve to have a woman fall into his arms.

  `Amber, Amber,' breathed Hamed hoarsely in her ear, 'why do you deny me what I know you want to give? Why do you pretend that my embrace means nothing to you?'

  The intensity in his voice caused a tremor to run through Amber but she did not relax in her determination not to give in. 'I'm not pretending. I despise men who take advantage of a woman. It's not fair, and if you insist on keeping me here against my will you'll soon find I'm not the acquiescent partner you hoped for. I shall fight you every inch of the way '

  As she spoke he pushed her away until she was held at arm's length. 'You are reckoning without my expertise. In a few days you will wonder why you ever resisted me. In case you are not aware of it, Amber, I do know how to treat a woman, and to me you are something special.'

  'If you really meant that you wouldn't hurt me.' To no avail she tried to pull away from his inflexible

  grip.

  'It is sometimes necessary to hurt those very dear to you,' returned Hamed, making no attempt to release her. 'There is no other way in which they will see reason.'

  Amber tossed her head scornfully. 'Are you trying to tell me that every time I refuse to fall in with your wishes you're going to inflict physical punishment? Are you a sadist, as well as all the other things I would like to call you?'

  'I hope that will not be necessary,' he returned calmly. 'I do not make a habit of hurting women.'

  'No doubt they all fall into your arms with absolutely no persuasion,' she said drily.

  'I must admit I do not usually have difficulty,' admitted Hamed, 'but I must also be perfectly frank and say that I have never found myself in exactly these circumstances before. You are the only woman I have ever wanted to marry.'

  For one second as he looked at her his fingers relaxed and Amber took the opportunity to swing away from him. 'If I'm supposed to be flattered, you're going to be disappointed!'

  To her surprise he laughed. 'Come, I will show you over the house and gardens. It will perhaps give your temper time to cool, and who knows, you may be a little more affable over dinner.'

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DINNER was not the cosy twosome Hamed had planned. They had an unexpected guest. She had joined them earlier in the garden and Amber had been immediately aware that he was not at all pleased by the intrusion.

  He had introduced her as Rafika, a pretty Tunisian girl aged about sixteen, who; in common with most of the youngsters, was dressed in Western-style clothes. Her dark hair hung long and straight about her shoulders and her wide brown eyes looked coolly at the blonde English girl, a tiny frown marring the smooth perfection of her forehead.

  'You are a business friend of Hamed's?' she had asked, in English that was only slightly less perfect than that of the man whose arm she had possessively taken.

  But before Amber could answer Hamed himself had said, 'Amber is—my fiancée.'

  Rafika's beautiful eyes had hardened, but she smiled, stiffly, politely, 'Let me be the first to congratulate you,' and she lifted her chin, kissing Hamed's cheek before bestowing a-perfunctory smile on Amber. 'When did all this happen?'

  Extricating himself from Rafika's embrace, Hamed placed an arm lightly about Amber's shoulders, smiling fondly down. 'We only met a few days ago. Amber is holidaying here.'

  `So—it would appear to be love at first sight?' Rafika's remarks were directed towards Amber. 'I trust you know what you are doing. Our ways are very different from yours.'

  `Rafika ! Hamed spoke sharply and the dark girl immediately looked embarrassed.

  'I'm sorry, Hamed,' she said softly, lowering her thick lashes and resting one hand on his arm. 'I cannot help it if I am jealous. I always thought that one day

  Hamed dashed her hand away impatiently. 'You know perfectly well my feelings towards you.' He added something in Arabic and Rafika retorted hotly, but after that the girl was perfectly civil towards Amber, even though Amber herself was aware of an underlying hostility.

  When it was time to change for dinner Hamed requested Amber to wear the kaftan he had bought her in Tunis. She had been tempted to disregard his wishes, but the thought of facing his anger in front of Rafika was sufficient to persuade her that on this occasion at least she would do as he said.

  The deep sea green suited her, as she had known it would, and she turned this way and that in front of the mirror, pleased with the reflection she saw. The garment made her feel feminine in a way she had not expected and there was a lightness to her step as she made her way down to the dining room.

  Rafika and Hamed were already there, standing at the far end, each holding a glass of red wine, speaking softly in Arabic, and for a few seconds Amber was able to watch them unobserved. Rafika looked very happy, laughing up into Hamed's face, apparently all

  her earlier annoyance having disappeared. She still wore the same short dress with its matching jacket in which she had arrived, although her hair was freshly brushed and her face skilfully made up to enhance the sparkling depth of her lovely brown eyes and sensual lips. For one so young she certainly knew how to make the most of herself, thought Amber.

  Hamed wore a dinner suit, his shirt startlingly white against his deeply tanned skin. Tall—and incredibly handsome—he made her heart skip a beat. Watching them it became apparent that Rafika was in love with
him, though he had clearly felt no embarrassment in telling her that she meant nothing to him. She was much younger than him and he treated her as such, good humouredly, like an older brother.

  Suddenly, as of one accord, they turned, Hamed's smile widening when he saw Amber, but it was Rafika whom Amber watched and a shiver ran through her at the look of open hatred on the girl's face.

  She had no time to dwell on this reaction, however, for Hamed strode swiftly forward and gathered her into his arms. 'Habibati, how exquisite you look! Rafika,' turning towards the other girl, 'do you not think the kaftan suits Amber?'

  Rafika shrugged carelessly. 'Myself, I prefer Western clothes. If Amber wishes to dress up then that is up to her.' As she spoke the girl walked towards the table, hitching up her already short skirt, so that as she sat down and crossed her legs it revealed a provocative length of thigh.

  Amber felt uncomfortable. Rafika's lighting reference to her dress made her wish that she had defied Hamed and worn something typically English. It was

  as though they had both reversed their roles, the strange part being that Rafika was completely at ease whereas Amber herself felt distinctly out of place. The kaftan suddenly felt all wrong on someone of her colouring, as though she was trying to act a part that did not suit her. But Hamed gave no indication that he saw anything wrong and led Amber to the table, sitting her on his left hand, with Rafika on the right.

  Amber toyed with her cutlery, only half listening as Rafika talked about people and places of which she herself had no knowledge. It might not have been so bad had she been there of her own free will, but because she was a virtual prisoner it made things doubly hard to bear. What would Rafika think, she wondered, if she knew the true circumstances? Perhaps she would not be so hostile if she learned that Amber was being held here against her wishes. She could be a useful ally. It was a thought worth thinking about, yet would Rafika really help? She might value her friendship with Hamed too highly to risk getting involved in anything that would warrant his anger. Amber sighed unconsciously. This was almost certain to be the case. Her problem was one she had to resolve herself.