`Awake?' he murmured.
She nodded, and then felt his hand stroking her hair, the lean fingers dwelling on the ruffled softness. 'You sleep so quietly and lightly,' he said. 'Like a lily on a slender stem, as if you might break if unshielded. You are very slight, Janna. I still think you could not have been overfed as a child.'
Her blue eyes looked upward and were held by his dark gaze. Her head was pillowed in the warm hollow of his shoulder. Her heart beat so that he must feel it, and think that it beat in panic at his nearness.
`Some people are naturally thin,' she replied.
Hid hand touched her neck, her shoulder, and very lightly her cheek. 'Small bones, soft skin, a lily or a bird in a man's hand. I can feel your heart like a little wing, beating at my fingers. Does it frighten you to be helpless in my arms, nina? If you cried out there would be only the hawks and the rock lizards to hear your pleas.'
`I'm sure my pleas wouldn't move you,' she said, fighting the pull he had on her feelings. 'I'd scratch and bite to my last ounce of strength.'
`I think spirit is the more appropriate word,' he drawled.
`And now shall we have lunch?' She forced herself to speak coolly, but was unable to control the tremor of her lips.
`Food to tame the savage breast—or is it beast?'
`It's taunting devil!' She forced herself out of his arms, grabbed at the door handle and jumped out of the car. For a second, like a gazelle at bay, she looked all around her. Miles of desert sands surrounded them, and above reared a monolith of sandstone rock, casting the shade in which they could lunch, and allow the car engine to cool down.
Don Raul strolled round from the other side of the car, long-legged and lithe, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. 'We will have the cold food which Hussein packed for us and save the chops and eggs for tonight. It is far too warm to light a fire.'
`The eggs would cook of themselves.' Janna retreated into the shade after stepping a moment into the blaze of the sun. `How awful to be lost and waterless under such a sky!'
`Yes, nature has a cruel side to her, so perhaps we human beings can be forgiven for our lapses from grace.'
`I think you enjoy yours.' She began to unload their picnic gear from the back of the car, and he laughed way above her head as he reached inside for the food hamper.
`My little orphan-angel, I like it when you get into a temper and give me the pepper on your tongue. You enjoy it as well, so don't look at me as if honey wouldn't melt in
your mouth.'
`You are enough to infuriate a real angel.' She knelt to lay out the rug, with its Arabian patterns, and upon this she spread the white cloth and the condiments. He opened the hamper and handed her the sealed container of chicken and salad, the loaf with sesame seeds pressed into it, the butter, dates, and the other coffee flask. They ate their food fairly quickly, for there were sand flies about, even in the shadow of the rocks, and after packing away the remains of their lunch they enjoyed with more leisure the delectable coffee which Hussein had prepared for them.
Don Raul stretched out in a patch of shade, lazily alert as a panther, with the same rippling of muscle and dark grace.
`Why don't you get some shut-eye?' Janna suggested. `I've had mine and will read my book.'
`What is the story?' he asked lazily. 'A romance, no doubt?'
`As it happens, senor, the book is a thriller. I had an over-abundance of romance while working for Mildred Noyes.'
`I hope she has not turned you against the real thing?'
`I wouldn't know.' Janna settled down with her shoulders against a boulder. Her eyes were upon the print, but her mind wasn't making much sense of the story. She was too aware of the relaxed male figure who lay nearby, his dark head pillowed upon a car cushion, his eyes half closed. He intruded into everything; her thoughts, her feelings, and even her book. He was altogether too compelling, and she breathed a sigh of relief when his eyelids finally settled into stillness and his face took on the look of sleep.
A smile played about her lips. Even in sleep he didn't return to boyhood. His face remained forceful, striking, with the devil still lurking in his cleft chin.
Romance had played an elusive role in her life, but love had come to her in the shape of a man who was a unpredictable as the desert itself. She gazed at the sands that lay like a golden, becalmed ocean all around this small island of
rock. There was not another soul in sight; only a few hawks wheeled lazily in the sky, and she could hear insects scraping their wings in the tamarisk bushes that grew among the rocks. How nervous she would be of this unknown land if Raul Cesar Bey were not at hand to guard and protect her in his sardonic way. The powdered pewter of the sands was polished by the sun, and all the time she could feel herself changing, becoming aware of ardent forces, a limitless freedom to think, feel and enjoy.
No wonder Don Raul returned to the desert with such eagerness. But what of Rachael, with her gentle, civilised beauty, when the time came for him to bring her to El Amara?
Janna couldn't imagine Rachael enjoying an alfresco lunch in the desert, bumping over the sands in a safari car, or sleeping under the stars. She seemed a woman who liked her creature comforts . . . had not Don Raul persuaded the Princess Yamila to provide Rachael with an income which enabled her to live in comfort?
It was a perplexing situation, but Janna didn't doubt that Don Raul would work it out to his satisfaction. He was not a man to let anything stand in the way of something he really wanted . . . and Janna was to be used to prove to the Princess that only the young widow could ever make him happy. He wanted a woman of the world, not a naive girl who moved him to amusement rather than ardency.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE print of her book danced in front of Janna's eyes and she gave up trying to read and let a warm lethargy steal over her. She was half dreaming when something touched her leg, crawled on to her dress and brought her awake in a second. She stared in horror at the black, crook-legged thing
that crouched on the pale chiffon of her skirt. She had never seen an insect so large, and with an uncontrollable scream she leapt to her feet and brushed it away madly.
Don Raul was awake and on his feet in an instant. 'What was it?' he demanded.
`A—a scorpion . . . big and black!'
He frowned at her, and then his eyes flashed to the ground in time to see the large insect scuttle away into the cover of some dried grass. There it made a creaking sound, and Janna gazed in hurt amazement as Don Raul gave a chuckle.
`It was a cricket . . . here in the desert they grow larger than elsewhere.'
She swallowed dryly. 'There's no need to laugh ! It looked horrible to me, so black and leggy. I thought crickets were small and pale, like match-toys.'
`If it had been a black scorpion and you had disturbed it in that way, it might have stung you. Always remain very still and don't move until it crawls off your person.'
`That's easy to say.' She put a shaky hand to her throat. `You're used to the insects that live in the desert, but I'm a stranger to them.'
`You are also a female,' he drawled. 'I understand your fear of what is ugly, but if ever a scorpion comes anywhere near you, try not to get into a panic. The sting of the black species is deadly; the other sort may give you a fever.'
`Men always take a superior attitude when it comes to the things that women fear. Is there nothing that frightens you?'
He stood and considered her question, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, his eyes searching her face with a lazy interest. 'I think I would be afraid of losing something I really wanted. To do so might turn me to the devil .. . though I believe you think me a close connection of his already.'
`You seem to get a kick out of my inexperience, which is rather unkind.'
`I think it better to laugh at some of your antics than to
baby them. This desert is a place to face up to, and once your nervousness wears off you will begin to be fascinated, and in a while to grow fond of it. I
t is like going to a dance for the first time, you must stumble before you fall into the rhythm You must taste the bitter before the sweet. That is a fact of life.'
`I certainly don't wish to be babied, senor. But you aren't the most sympathetic person I've ever met.'
`If I were sympathetic you would be alarmed I think you and I are inclined to forget that we are virtual strangers to each other. I have much to learn about you, you have a lot to learn about me. We can't expect to fall into step without a few stumbles, eh?'
She shook her head, and wondered if he would talk this way if Rachael were with him and a fat black cricket had crawled up her leg.
The sun still burned in the sky and the hush of breathless heat lay over the day, but with sudden decision Don Raul began to collect together the hamper, cushions and rug. 'We will make a move,' he said. 'Soon it will be mid-afternoon, when the heat begins to abate. We have a good five hours' driving ahead of us before we need make camp for the night.'
`I submit with never a murmur, senor.'
He cast a look at her as she followed him to the car, an eyebrow quirked. 'I wonder what you hide behind that demure reply? What are you thinking as you look at me with such innocent eyes? It really is the truth, that a worldly woman is a mirror which reflects all that she is. You, Niña, are like a pool that hides things beneath a limpid surface.'
`You make me sound secretive, senor. What have I to hide?'
`I wonder,' he murmured.
Several minutes later they were driving away from the rocks, leaving only their footmarks in the sand. Yet Janna would not forget the place; it was there he had talked of turning to the devil if deprived of what he really wanted.
She stole a glance at his profile. He was unaware that she loved him, and it was something he must be kept from learning. Whenever he touched her, she must betray no response to him. She must fight him at every turn and keep her pride, at least. To be betrayed by her own self would be mortifying. She was the girl hired to wear his ring. She was briefly required to amuse the Princess . . . love didn't enter into the bargain.
It was about an hour later when vivid streamers of rose-gold began to appear in the sky. In stealth, almost, velvety shadows began to steal over the sands, and Janna felt a welcome coolness blowing in through the open windows of the car. The next few miles of their journey took on the pleasure of driving without puffs of heat coming in from the engine and the desert. She breathed the tangy air and it was as if the pores of the earth had opened to give off a strange wild fragrance as dusk began to fall.
`Soon you will see why I regard the desert as a place of beauty,' said Don Raul. 'Why the senses respond to its magic and forget how relentless it can be.'
Already she could feel a magic stealing over the day. And then came a sound that added witchery, a hint of the pagan, a throb that was echoed by Janna's heart. Quite suddenly the car came in sight of a straggling stone village nestling at the foot of a range of hills. The sound was that of a flute as a boy stood piping sheep down the hillside. Don Raul stopped driving and they watched as the short-legged bales of wool tumbled and bleated and milled about the car.
Flames leapt in the shadow of primitive houses and women in long dresses prepared meals over the tamarisk fires. Children ran about. Dogs barked. A drum pounded. The shepherd and his flock went on their way down a lane that twisted between the mud-brick dwellings.
They drove on and Janna was aware of dark eyes watching them from beneath the cowls of bygone clothing. It was as if for a few minutes they had driven into the past and seen people who lived as in the days of Naomi and Ruth.
`Things change slowly in the desert,' said Don Raul. 'Life here is like the palm tree, its roots lost in the past, its appearance always the same. In the desert we don't question the mystery of dusk and dawn, of life and love. These are part of the drama of living. The crests and the depths, like the sands themselves. In cities time hurries by, friends are found and lost, values are less profound. In cities a man admires the ability to pile up possessions; here it is good to have the things that don't crowd the tent; a splendid carpet, a copper lamp, and a pair of lustrous eyes.'
His words moved Janna. She had thought him a man of the world, seeking pleasure and careless of tomorrow. She had been so mistaken. Love of desert places and people ran in his veins, and here he was far more disturbing than he had been the evening they had eaten flaming plums together.
He looked at her and the brilliant darkness of his gaze held her at his mercy. 'You are beginning to feel the magic,' he said. 'I can see it in your eyes.'
At once she was alarmed. He might see in her eyes more than she wished to reveal, and she looked away forcibly and gave herself up to the almost savage beauty of the desert sunset. A fantastic tangling of colours, a web holding the sun as it blazed immense and golden in the deepening sky. Was it from this palette that the rainbow drew its lovely arc? Were the silk dyers inspired by such a riot of tones and shades? Was it real or a mirage, the sheer beauty of rose-gold, palest green and violet, against which a cluster of desert palm trees bowed, the sunset flames burning the edges of the long notched leaves that cloaked their slenderness?
`It's more than beautiful,' Janna murmured. 'It's so alive, and yet the sun is dying.'
`You will see that savage loneliness with each passing of the sun, and you will always see it with wonder.'
But this is my first sunset in the desert, senor. Those trees, that rocky village, the singing winds, these are the essence of my memory.'
`You are unusual, Niña. Many women place jewels before the splendour of a sunset, or the glow of a star.'
`I am not sophisticated. Even your emerald seems false to me beside such beauty.'
`You don't much like my emerald, do you?'
`It feels out of place on my hand.'
`Up on the muezzin tower last night you reached out as if for a star. The gesture was significant.'
`You seem to place a symbolic meaning upon everything, senor.'
`You were reaching for something, Niña.'
`It would not be surprising. The orphan's dream seems always out of reach.'
`Always is a long, long time.'
`I suppose so. It used to seem a wonderful dream to me that lots of people had a family fire to cluster around when winter came, with a dog romping through rooms where books and cushions were scattered about, and where muffins were toasted and someone played the piano.'
`All of us are the victims of certain dreams. Can you guess mine?'
She thought of Rachael, of the palm and pomegranate groves of his home, and of the son he must have. His dreams were more easily fulfilled than her own, but the two boys born already to the woman he wanted would make doubly hard his task of proving to the Princess that a. young, unworldly girl was not for him. How would he set about proving it? Would he be unkind and hurtful . . . to herself?
Dusk drew its great paw over the sands and they slowly darkened; the evening winds sang across them.
`You have not yet answered my question, Janna.'
She gave him a cautious look. 'I wouldn't presume to guess your dreams, Don Raul. You might laugh at my nonsense.'
`You have not let that deter you before. Come, do I dream of happiness and love?'
`You . . . are loved.'
`By whom, do you suppose?'
She flushed in the darkness. 'By your grandmother, and the people at El Amara. By
`Yes, by whom else?'
`Your cousin.'
`I have several.'
`Don Raul,' she forced a laugh, 'I don't know what I've done to deserve this inquisition. Are you practising?' `Practising what, Niña?'
`A little Spanish torment.'
`Why should I wish to torment you?'
`You have to show the Princess what a failure a mere girl would be as your wife.'
`And you think I shall use thumb-screws on you?' He laughed, a soft mocking sound. 'You have a vivid imagination, and it can distort facts and fancies, turn a car
efree remark into a certainty, a fiction into a truth.'
`Are you telling me to control my imagination?' `You are a little inclined to let it run away with you.' `You were the one who mentioned thumb-screws !'
`You child,' he mocked. 'What a lot you have to learn !'
`I daresay I have, but I'm not asking you to be my
teacher.'
`Afraid, chica?'
She refused to be drawn further into a dangerous discussion. 'Look, the stars are coming out. So many, like shoals of silver fish.'
`It will now begin to grow colder. Shut the window beside you and put on your jacket. We will drive for a few more miles.'
She did as he told her, and was really amazed to feel how chilly it had grown after the intense heat of the day. She knelt on the seat and searched for her jacket, until she remembered that it was locked in her suitcase.
`Wear mine,' he said firmly. 'You should find it beside the torch and the medical kit.'
`Don't you want it yourself ?'
Not just yet. I'm not wearing such flimsy clothing as yourself. Put it on before you start shivering.'
She did so, and couldn't suppress a laugh. She was lost in the largeness of it and could feel the silky lining against her arms and the weight of his cigarette case and lighter in the pocket.
`Would you like to smoke?' she asked.
`Very much. Light one for me, Niña. I don't want to take my hands off the wheel. Despite all those stars this desert road is a dark one and I don't want to run into a clump of rocks or an animal '
Janna opened the flat gold case, took out one of the cigarettes and put the filter between her lips. She spun the lighter and lit up, and suddenly that shattering sense of intimacy was back between them. She wore his jacket, he took between his lips the cigarette her lips had touched.
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