`I don't happen to think you a conventional girl. In fact you are most unusual.'
`It must be a bit novel for you to meet a girl of my age who has never been involved in a romance.'
`A dangerous state of affairs,' he drawled. 'You might be ripe to fall in love out of curiosity, and I have a handsome young cousin at El Amara—Ahmed, a name which means "praiseworthy one" in Arabic.'
`Do you think girls like a handsome face?'
`It sometimes blinds them to other qualities.'
She didn't dare to look at Don Raul's face in the dancing light of the fire; already she loved each feature and every expression, even the look of deep amusement that came into his eyes when she voiced her youthful opinion on a subject, or dared to argue with him, a man of the world.
`I—I can't pretend to know much about men, senor. I admire interesting faces, but I know that men are attracted to the beautiful face rather than the ordinary one.'
`Angling for a compliment, Janna?'
`No.' She gave him an indignant look. 'I prefer the truth to a flattery, and I wouldn't want to be told something
ridiculously untrue. I'm quite ordinary ... but I thought Doña Rachael had a lovely face. She reminded me of a Madonna.'
`You remind me of several things.'
`Kittens and twigs?'
`Periwinkles and water-gardens, and mimosa against a pale wall. You are not in any sense a classic beauty, but nor are you a girl to go unnoticed by the male eye. You have, however, an air of retreat, and Madam Noyes took such advantage of it that you were quite eclipsed—until I saw you in the mimosa. You might then have gone unnoticed but for the immensity of your eyes and how blue they are when you are startled. What was it about me that made you look like a doe caught in a thicket?'
`You must know the answer to that one yourself, Don Raul.'
`Indeed? My wicked looks?'
'Partly.'
`And what else? Come, I insist on being told.'
The fact that I saw you say something to Doila Rachael that made her cry.'
`Ah—shall I tell you what I said to her?'
`No—'
`I told her that she was not going to suffer for her foolish
sister's sake. That I would ensure that the Princess Yamila
did not visit her anger upon the rest of Joyosa's family.' `Then . her tears were not because you had hurt her?' `On the contrary.'
`Of course.' Janna's voice softened. 'You couldn't hurt anyone so lovely.'
`No. It would be like taking a flimsy-winged moth in hand and crushing it.'
`I—I'm sorry I misjudged you, senor.'
`You judge from this face of mine,' he said quizzically.
Yes, she thought. He was as handsome as Lucifer, but behind his devilish smile he could also be so kind that he made a woman weep. And she—foolish and naïve—had
thought those tears of Rachael's caused by unkind words from him!
`I've never met a person quite like you, senor. There is a baffling side to you, as if you almost enjoy being thought a shade more devilish than you really are.'
`It comes as a relief that I don't bite after all?' In one swift movement he carried her hand to his lips. 'Not to the bone, that is.'
`Please—' She tried to pull her hand away, but instead it was pressed close to his lips so that she felt them move in a smile.
`You talk so bravely, eh? Inwardly you are terrified of me and my intentions. Poor child, you would prefer to be with a grey-eyed earnest young man who would talk of everything but men and women and the battle of love.'
`I—I'm very tired,' Janna said desperately. 'Can't we go to bed now?'
`By all means,' he said softly, the firelight revealing the deep wicked smile in his eyes, 'if you wish to.'
`Don Raul !' She jumped to her feet, jerking her hand from his fingers, and almost on the verge of dashing off as if there were a young women's hostel around the corner of the palm trees. 'Y-you know I'm not used to being alone like this with a man and you seem to take advantage of the fact.'
He just looked at her, and then with a single lithe movement he was on his feet and his burnous folded dark around his tall figure. He towered over her, making her more aware than ever of his unpredictable maleness, and her own helpless aloneness with him. It wasn't fair that he should have her so at the mercy of his dangerous charm. It wasn't fair of him to behave like this because they were alone, and he wished he had Rachael with him.
`You can't know the meaning of being taken advantage of,' he said cuttingly. 'Have I made advances to you? Have I shown the slightest sign that I am panting to make love to you? I am flattered that I have only to touch your hand
and you imagine yourself in danger!'
Her cheeks stung; he made her seem the one who was panting for love, and she knew too late that if she had kept cool he would not have done more than tease her. Now he was looking at her with a searching glint in his eyes, as if he had begun to suspect that his touch did more than alarm her.
Her heart beat quickly as she awaited the next move from him. She couldn't speak ... her voice would shake, the tears of youthful blunder and bewilderment might choke her. There was nothing more tormenting than to fall in love with a man from whom you had to hide your feelings ... for the sake of pride, and because he loved already someone lovely. She was just a naive girl who amused him
`Your eyes look as if they are aching for sleep.' When he turned away from her and strode to the safari car she swayed from the reaction of those few tense moments.
She watched, hands clenched in the pockets of his jacket, as he took the sleeping bags from the car and carried them to the fireside. He unrolled them and pulled down the zippers. The soft quilted linings were revealed, warm-looking, and needed, for the wind across the desert carried a chill that made Janna shiver as it blew against her face and neck.
`Come, we will sleep at this side of the fire and the trees will shelter us.'
Her eyes, the servants of her emotions, dared not meet his gaze as she walked to the sleeping-bag he indicated. She took off his jacket and her shoes and slipped into the quilted bag. He knelt and zipped it into place around her, snug, comfortable, making her feel disarmed and yet secure.
`Thank you,' she murmured.
`Demure and provoking, aren't you?' He studied her hair, a ruffle of pale gold about her features with their giveaway look of youthful uncertainty. Her mouth was soft, questioning.
`Are you afraid that because you wear my ring I shall forget that you are only pretending to be my sweetheart?'
`It is all pretence,' she said, while her heart beneath the quilt and the light touch of his hand cried a different cry.
`Yes, just a game, chica.' His smile was a quirk of the lip, but his eyes were serious, as if warning her that in future she was not to take seriously whatever he might do or say. `Is tonight the first time you have slept beneath the stars?'
`Yes. How close they seem, how warmly they glow, like so many eyes looking down at us.'
`The eyes of guardian angels?'
She broke into a smile. 'Perhaps, senor.'
`Then you may sleep safe through the night ... even though I shall be within touching distance.'
`I'm glad ' She bit her lip. 'I mean—I should be
nervous of all this surrounding desert, and the jackals, if you weren't nearby.'
`They won't come close to our fire, and I have the habit of sleeping on the alert.' A smile drew a line down his cheek. 'You look like a child ... your feet don't reach to the bottom of the sleeping bag !'
He was touching her feet as he spoke and she gave a nervous laugh 'Don't—I'm ticklish !'
`So young,' he mused, 'with so much yet to learn. You make me remember the first time I slept out in the desert, and how vast everything seemed to me. I was a mere boy of nine and nothing had ever seemed more exciting to me, or so awesome. I understand your feelings, chica.'
He didn't understand them fully, and she smiled a little. She wa
s not a young boy of nine but a girl of twenty, far from all that was familiar to her, and alone in the desert, under the stars, with a man she loved. He couldn't begin to guess how madly her heart beat when he touched her face very lightly with his lean fingers, tracing with a fingertip the line of her cheek to her lips.
`Are you glad you came?' he asked.
`I wouldn't have missed the trip, senor.'
`Tomorrow we shall arrive at El Amara and your ordeal will really begin.'
I—I still wonder if it wouldn't be best for you to tell the Princess the complete truth.'
`And how would I explain you to her?' he drawled. `I—don't know.'
`Nor do I, and as she is expecting me to arrive with a sweetheart I think it best I arrive with one. I don't wish her to be disappointed, annoyed, and concerned for my future. According to custom I should be married by now, with young children for her to spoil. It will soften the blow for her if she believes I have taken the trouble to find someone as young and fair as Joyosa, but with more character.'
`I--I'm not going to enjoy deceiving her.'
`Don't think of it as a deception.'
But it is one !'
`Which should make things easier for you. You know you are not really doomed to become my bride.'
He rose to his feet and the dark burnous gave him a dramatic look as he turned away and went to the fire, where he threw on more of the branches that burned with such an evocative scent. He loomed tall against the dancing firelight, the sparks bursting in the air about him, his words like painful little blows that Janna had to bear in silence, until she fell asleep.
Janna opened her eyes and stretched. Where on earth was she? She tried to sit up and realised that she was zipped into a sleeping bag. She wriggled until she reached the zip and a moment later was on her feet and looking at her first desert dawn.
Everything was amber and still, and immensely disturbing. The trees were like jade carvings, as if nothing came to life until the sun arose and touched the amber scrolls of sand to warmth, and the long palm leaves to a living green. There upon a boulder lay a chameleon with a jewelled back and eyes of stone. When Janna turned her head she saw
Don Raul stretched motionless in his sleeping-bag, his face so still that she felt the quickening of her heartbeats.
It was as if an enchantment lay over the desert, leaving her the onlooker, with eyes that couldn't look away from that sleeping face, the dark hair ruffled on the broad brow, the lashes thick along the curve of the eyelids, the nose autocratic even in slumber, the lips a little open, as if they faintly smiled, the cleft in the chin holding a shadow.
She sighed and would have liked to kneel and kiss that faint smile on his mouth. It was strange that one could feel so shaken and moved, so protective and helpless, so ardent and shy and incredibly adoring all at the same time ... and all this for a man who felt none of it for her.
She turned away resolutely and went to the car to collect her toilet bag and to get a change of clothing out of her suitcase. She went among the palm trees, where she washed herself with the water he had set aside for this purpose. She stood her mirror in the fork of a tree and combed her hair into a bright cloud about her temples and nape. In her white blouse with a blue polka-dot tie, and a white skirt with pleated panels, she had an idea she looked rather like a schoolgirl. Very cool and English and unsuitable for the suave, experienced grandson of a Princess.
She glanced at her hand, at the huge emerald glimmering without flaw, to which was attached the legend of a tragic love. Now the ring was being used to deceive, and Janna felt for a moment as if something touched her in warning, but when she turned to look it was only a pendent palm leaf that brushed her shoulder.
She hastened from the grove and collided directly with Don Raul. His hands closed upon her waist and she was held immobile.
`You must have been awake very early,' he said. 'How pristine you look ! You make me feel very unshaved.''
`You do look rather raffish.' She smiled up at him nervously. 'Shall I prepare breakfast while you have a wash and a shave?'
`That would be nice. It's in the nature of the brute to enjoy being waited upon by someone as fresh as new milk.' As he spoke he seemed to breathe more quickly, and Janna found him closer to her, so warm and alive, so attractive despite the dark shadowing of his beard. Her blue eyes seemed to fill with him, her lips parted on a lost breath, and then she felt his kiss in the tiny hollow under her cheekbone.
`Y-your beard scratches,' she said, turning her head blindly to avoid his lips on hers. He mustn't kiss her properly. She would give herself away to him if he did that.
`My apologies, nina. That is the trouble with being a man —neither his beard nor his inclinations are easily controlled. You on the other hand are such a cool young thing and I wonder what it would take to shatter your composure so completely that you would beg a kiss rather than resist one. What would it take, little piece of snow?'
`Snow, in the desert?' she scoffed.
`You look it, and you feel it.' His eyes raked her cool skin, her white dress, her pale gold hair. These were her allies. They made her look the composed young miss he thought her.
`Please let me go, senor.'
`Afraid my touch might do the trick and melt you?'
`Y-you have no right to talk to me like this—' She fought against his touch, knowing that she meant no more to him than a passing fancy. He missed Rachael, and to be alone with someone else acted as a spur, driving him to desires that bore no relation to love. 'You're behaving like a spoiled, arrogant boy !'
`Tell me,' his fingers pressed her little charms into her wristbone, almost deliberately, 'are you like Joyosa afraid of the desert in me?'
`No, it isn't that.'
`Then why don't you like me to touch you?'
`I—I don't belong to you because I wear your ring. I'm not your possession, here to amuse you when you feel the
need.'
`What if you were my ... possession?'
`I should still fight you.'
`You will tell me why.'
`Not if you were to beat me, senor!
`You obstinate child! I suppose you are saving your kisses for a sedate young man who will never alarm you with too much passion, who will treat you as if you were any other piece of furniture in his neat and orderly home.'
`What nonsense, just because I won't be flirted with! It isn't fair of you—'
`To ruffle your chick-soft feathers, Miss Smith? Again I apologise. I shall remember in future that you find my proximity not much to your liking. My touch is far too primitive ... it might bruise that milky skin, and make untidy the fair hair and the prim white blouse. A word of advice, my pretence darling. Don't walk into my arms without looking; I might forget again that you are not my pretty possession.'
She was held by his dark eyes for a long tense moment. `It's too easy to turn to someone when loneliness grips you, senor.'
`You think I am lonely?'
`It's a human enough feeling.'
`And you don't feel inclined to assuage the condition?'
`No.' She pulled away firmly this time, hurting her own wrist and glad of the pain. It excused the look she might have of wanting to break into tears. 'I'll get breakfast ... the sun is up and soon we should be on our way.'
`You sound quite anxious,' he drawled.
The sun above their heads was gilding the palm-tufts, and gone from the morning was that look of silent enchantment. Large birds winged across the blue sky, and the rolling dunes looked at a distance as if they had the feel of warm prickly velvet. A pagan, lonely land, which could bring out in two people travelling alone a primitive clash of emotions.
Don Raul strode to the car for his towel and shaving-kit. Janna went to the fire and stirred the warm embers that soon set burning some branches of dry tamarisk. Soon the coffee pot was bubbling, and she set out bread, butter, and apricot tarts for breakfast.
The senor joined her in about half an hour, clean-shaven,
his hair wet and groomed, a sports shirt crisp against the brown skin of his throat and forearms. Janna poured him a cup of coffee, and kept her eyes pinned to his leather-strapped watch.
`The time is eight o'clock,' he said drily. 'We shall commence our journey as soon as we have eaten.'
`Have we much further to go?' She nibbled at the delicious crust on a slice of bread and butter.
`Quite a few miles, but we should arrive there about noon. Mmmm, you are beginning to make good coffee.'
`I watched to see how much you put into the pot last night. I'm glad you like it.'
`You are a funny girl.'
`I know I have a funny face.'
He smiled with his eyes. 'You know what I mean. You like to please people, but you retreat from them at the same time.' He bit into a tart with relish, a snap of strong white teeth that reminded her again of some superb feline, relaxed and yet dangerously alert, a purr and a snarl to his nature.
`It's a good thing we have almost reached El Amara. The food has almost run out, but for a little fruit.'
`So long as we have a supply of water, food is not the main problem in the desert. A travelling band of bedouin would always give us a meal, and I am also a fair shot and could wing us a couple of birds for dinner'
`A couple of those?' She smiled and pointed upwards, to where big-winged birds were circling in a kind of sky ballet.
`Those are buzzards.' He grinned. 'A bit tough on the teeth. No, I refer to quail and pigeon.'
`How unkind to kill them for food.'
`Would you rather go hungry?' He quirked an eyebrow. `I notice you are enjoying your breakfast, which means that our desert air agrees with you. Some European people feel a trifle under the weather when they first enter the garden of Allah.'
`I feel fine ... and I do like that description of the desert. One can almost imagine that biblical people still dwell among the sand dunes and the palm trees.'
`At El Amara you will find a garden of Eden.' He took from his belt a knife with a carved hilt and began to peel a large orange, cutting away the pith until the fruit gleamed enticingly. 'According to Spanish belief it was an orange which Eve gave to Adam. Will you accept half of this without letting your imagination run away with you?'
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