The Sheikh’s Reward

CHAPTER FIVE

WHEN she’d calmed down a little Fran began to explore her surroundings. Clearly there was no escape from the balcony, but she might find some other way.

She investigated her bathroom which, at any other time, would have delighted her with its luxury. The bath was sunk into the floor, and the smooth marble was delicious to the touch.

The main room was also opulent, with lavish hangings and a large bed, covered with rich crimson brocade and thick cushions. There were several doors, but they all led to closets. The only way out was by the main door, which was firmly locked. Fran groaned to think how stupidly she’d walked, wide-eyed, into what anyone could have seen was a trap.

And yet how could she possibly have anticipated such an outrageous action? In the modern world people just didn’t do this kind of thing!

But Ali Ben Saleem wasn’t a modern man. He was a sovereign ruler with absolute power, and he felt free to do exactly as he pleased.

She heard a key turn in the lock and looked up quickly, but it wasn’t Ali. Two girls, dressed in the plain garb of maids, entered and inclined their heads respectfully towards her. One of them glided into the bathroom and began to run water into the sunken bath. Fran silenced her instinctive rebellion. She felt hot, sticky and tired, and the idea of a bath was suddenly very attractive.

The water was deliciously scented. Fran sank down into it and began to soap herself. Outwardly she was acquiescent. Inwardly she was planning just what she would say to Ali when she saw him. But when would that be? Rasheeda had hinted that she might be left here for a long time before that happened.

When she was ready to climb out of the bath the two maids held up a white towel to wrap around her. She finished drying and looked around for her clothes. There was no sign of the plain green tunic she had worn to enter the country.

Instead, one of the maids made a smiling gesture to some elaborate robes in peacock-blue that were hung up ready for her.

‘I’d rather wear my own clothes,’ Fran said firmly. ‘They’re in my bag. Where is it, please?’

One of the maids frowned. ‘Bag is missing,’ she said. ‘These are your clothes.’

‘Oh, no, they’re not. If your master thinks he’s going to dress me as one of his fancy women, he can think again!’

‘Please,’ the maid begged, ‘do not speak disrespectfully of master.’

‘I’ll say a few disrespectful things to his face when I see him. I want my bag.’

They stared at her blankly.

Against all reason Fran dug her heels in. ‘I’ll wear my own clothes or nothing,’ she said firmly.

Turning her back on them, she sat down on one of the heavily cushioned sofas, pulling the towel around her, and wishing it were larger.

Behind her she could hear whispering, as though the maids were conferring together about how best to cope with her rebellion.

‘I am not giving in about this,’ she said, as decisively as she could manage.

‘That’s my Diamond,’ said an amused voice.

Fran leapt up and whirled around. Ali stood there, arms akimbo, regarding her sardonically. The maids had vanished.

‘You!’ she said angrily. ‘How dare you?’

Ali grinned. ‘How dare I what?’

How dared he stand there looking so handsome, and so assured? That was the thought that scorched across her brain before she could stop it, but she quickly substituted, How dared he behave so disgracefully?

‘If this is your idea of a joke, then it’s misfired badly,’ she said with dignity.

‘Tell me.’ He folded his arms and regarded her.

‘I’m here to write a story-the one you promised me. You thought it would be very funny to dump me in this place and lock the door. All right. It was funny. But now it’s “joke over” time and I want to start getting serious.’

He looked her up and down, taking in the towel and the bits of her that it left uncovered. It reached only just to the top of her thighs. At the upper edge it was twisted into a makeshift knot just above her breasts, but with every breath she took Fran could feel it threatening to come loose. She put a protective hand over the knot, wishing Ali would stop looking at her in a way that showed he understood the danger as well as she did.

‘But I am serious,’ he said at last. ‘Diamond, for a woman who prides herself on having a brain, you are easily deluded. I told you once there would be no interview and no story. I haven’t budged from that position, and you were naive to imagine that I would.’

She heard the words but could hardly take in their meaning. It was simply too monstrous. ‘You-never meant to talk to me?’ she breathed.

‘Not for a moment. Money, business, politics- these things are not the concern of women. I told you that, but you wouldn’t believe me.’

‘You lured me here on false pretences. You had no right-’

‘But you should have guessed that I’d do something like this. You knew I was the kind of man who would never forgive an injury.’ He took a step closer, looking down at her. For a moment there was a hint of menace in his soft voice. ‘How foolish of you to forget that.’

‘What injury? I’ve never harmed you.’

‘You forced my hand over the cheque. That stung my pride.’

‘Your pride!’ she scoffed.

His voice changed, became harder. ‘The ruler of a country must be a man of pride. If not, he is unfit to rule. I could not allow an insult to go unpunished. You invaded my home in disguise-two disguises if you include the night we met. You thought you were very clever, but you weren’t as clever as you imagined. I decided it was time you had a lesson in reality.’

‘Reality?’ she echoed, hardly able to believe her ears. ‘You call this reality? Putting me with your concubines?’

‘You have only yourself to blame. You challenged me, and I took up your challenge. The next move is yours.’

‘Yes, and it will be, when people start asking questions about my disappearance.’

‘But when will that be? You told me yourself, nobody knows you came to work under cover in my house. Your friend Joey is away on another job. You have no family. Who will know that you are gone?’

‘And bringing me here on someone else’s passport…?’ she whispered.

Ali nodded. ‘Nobody will know that you have left the country, much less where you are.’

With mounting anger she realised the full horror of her situation.

‘All those questions you asked me last night about how I was going to tell my confederates?-you were checking whether it was safe to kidnap me. You were planning this then.’

‘I’m a man of foresight.’

She made one last attempt.

‘Ali, this has gone far enough. I want my bag, my clothes, and I want to get out of here.’

He laughed softly. ‘Oh, my Diamond, you are wonderful. You have no weapons, you are completely helpless in my power. Yet you speak with such authority, as though you had only to command and I must obey. I tremble in my shoes.’

‘I don’t believe this,’ she said in a shaking voice. ‘I’m dreaming, and I’ll wake up soon.’

‘I wish you the sweetest of dreams, and I hope they will all be of me. But when you awake you will still be here. And you will remain here, at my pleasure, until I decide otherwise.’

‘You’re utterly mad,’ she breathed. ‘You must be, to imagine that you can turn me into a concubine- number 37!’

He laughed. ‘Well, I have to admit that I don’t actually have thirty-seven. This is simply the only room with a lock on the door. The others don’t have to be locked in. They enjoy serving their country.’

‘Well, this isn’t my country, and I have no intention of serving it in your bed,’ Fran said emphatically. ‘If the others are so keen, why not stick to them?’

‘If you knew how often I’ve asked myself the same question. But you tease and provoke me as they do not.’

As he spoke he placed the back of one finger on her shoulder, and trailed it down the length of her arm. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to send tremors through her whole body. When he removed his hand she could still feel the tingling all down her arm.

She took a deep breath, trying to stop herself from shaking. It dismayed her to discover that her physical response to Ali was as intense as ever, even now when she was furiously angry with him. Of course he’d counted on that. He expected her to collapse before his male potency, and if it was the last thing she did she would prove him wrong. She lifted her head and met his eyes defiantly.

‘I demand that you release me,’ she said.

‘Magnificent,’ Ali murmured. ‘At this moment I admire you more than ever.’

‘Did you hear what I said?’

‘Of course I heard, as I hear the splash of rain on the windows. I hear the sound, but it doesn’t stop me in my course.’ He lifted her chin. ‘Be patient, Diamond. Did I not tell you that the pleasure lies in the anticipation? And we have much to look forward to. When the moment comes, we will be as no man and woman have ever been before.’

It was hard to deny it when his fingertips were stroking her mouth, but she forced herself.

‘That will never happen,’ she said. ‘I refuse. If you think that this-’ she made a sweeping gesture around the room ‘-and all your power makes any difference, you’re fooling yourself.’

He laughed softly. ‘I think you’ll find that it does make a difference. But fight me if you like. It will only make my eventual victory the sweeter.’ He sighed ruefully. ‘Let’s hope that affairs of state don’t detain me too long, and I can find time for you soon.’

She stared as his incredible meaning sank in. Then something in her snapped.

‘No!’ she screamed. ‘No!’

Evading his grasp, she darted to the door and began to hammer on it. ‘Somebody-help!’

In a flash he was with her, putting both arms around her and lifting her off the floor to carry her into the middle of the room. She thrashed and kicked but his grasp was unbreakable, and all she achieved was to loosen the towel, which began to slip away from her.

‘Let me go!’ she screamed. ‘Let me-’

The sound was cut off by his mouth over hers, in the most ruthless kiss he had ever given her. It was not a caress but an assertion of dominance, silencing her completely. She put out all her strength to resist him. She would not let herself be kissed like this.

But he kissed her anyway, as never before. Their other kisses had been like fencing matches, with the power evenly balanced. This time he was determined to overcome her. The towel fell, unnoticed, to the floor, and he was holding her naked body in his arms, while his lips told her silently that she belonged to him, whatever she might say.

When he felt her still trying to struggle he murmured, ‘Don’t be foolish, my Diamond. You could overcome me more easily than you know, but not by force. You have weapons that could enslave a man.’

He turned her in his arms, putting a hand under her knees and raising her to carry her to the bed. Without removing his mouth from hers he lowered her onto the satin cushions. She clung to him, perhaps to steady herself, perhaps because she couldn’t do anything else.

She became aware that his embrace had changed. The fierceness had gone out of it, leaving behind only tenderness, and coaxing. Something deep in her took fright at that coaxing. It contained a greater power than any threat. His lips were seductive, teasing her into compliance, persuading her that there was nothing she wanted to do but this.

He left her mouth and began to kiss her down the length of her neck, then down further to the place between her breasts. He lingered a moment, and Fran knew he must be able to feel the hammering of her heart.

‘Does your heart beat with love or hate, Diamond?’ he whispered.

‘With hate,’ she managed to say.

‘And mine?’ He took her hand and placed it over his own heart, which was beating as strongly as her own. ‘What of mine? Is that love or hate you feel there?’

‘Neither,’ she gasped. ‘All you want is possession.’

‘Perhaps. There has never been a woman I wanted to possess as much as you, or for whom I would take such risks. Ask whatever you will of me.’

‘Let me go,’ she said fiercely.

The words stopped him in his tracks. He released her and drew back, his face a cold mask.

‘You ask the impossible,’ he grated. ‘It’s time you faced the truth. You’ll stay here until I’m satisfied.’

‘And when will that be?’

A strange, distant look came into his eyes, as though he was communicating with a vision only he could see.

‘When you yield to me completely, in your heart as well as your body. When you say that you are mine for all time and desire only to remain with me. Then, and only then, will I be satisfied.’

Moving quickly, he rose and backed away.

‘But I won’t stay here,’ she raged. ‘I’ll escape and expose you to the world.’

She was talking to a closed door.

Fran was too intelligent to keep fighting the same battle with the same discredited weapons. So she calmed her temper and assumed an attitude of compliance, to hide her inner rebellion and her determination to escape.

She realised she was exhausted. She hadn’t slept the night before. Now she was determined to keep up her strength, so she slipped between the sheets of the lavish bed, and slept the sleep of the jet-lagged.

When she awoke her maids were present, bowing and smiling, and indicating a meal that was ready for her. It was a meal for an honoured guest-veal and apricots, followed by stuffed dates and wine. It was delicious and she realised that she was very hungry.

While she’d slept her bag had been returned to her. Diving into it, she discovered that something was missing. Her notebooks and Dictaphone machine were there, but not her mobile phone.

So, no chance to call for help.

The maid who understood some English, and whose name was Leena, explained that the rest of the afternoon would be taken up by a visit from a maker of materials, who would produce samples for her choice.

‘Then make-to your liking,’ she said.

Fran would have liked to say that she wasn’t going to be here long enough to make a new wardrobe necessary, but she merely nodded and smiled. An appearance of agreement was simply part of the role she was playing for the moment.

But her pose was shaken when the merchant appeared and tossed bolt after bolt of fabric at her feet, until the floor was covered with a myriad colours.

‘Where do I start?’ she gasped.

‘My master says-everything you wish,’ Leena said, smiling.

Fran pulled herself together. She absolutely would not let herself weaken because of a few bolts of silk, even if one of them was guaranteed to highlight her eyes, and another would bring a peachy glow to her skin.

Since it was clearly expected of her she ran her hands over the material, feeling the luxurious sensation against her skin. It was her undoing. Suddenly she was a teenager again, pressing her nose against the shop window, yearning for the clothes within. Only this time someone had removed the window, and the clothes were hers.

A subtle intelligence had been at work here. Somebody understood what would make her weaken-if anything could. She would select only the bare minimum.

Two hours later the merchant departed jubilantly, with the largest order he’d ever been given, even from the palace.

Fran was left aghast, wondering what had come over her. It wasn’t just the material, but the fortune in jewels that Leena had calmly ordered to be sewn into the garments. When Fran had asked if these were real jewels Leena had been shocked. As though the Prince of Kamar would give anything less!

‘But of course these are only little jewels,’ she had explained. ‘The master will present you with the big ones himself.’

‘The-big ones?’ Fran had said, dazed.

‘You are to be greatly honoured. He has said so.’

Honoured with everything but my freedom, Fran thought.

But she held her tongue. When she next saw Ali she would have plenty to say.

It was early evening. Fran went out onto the balcony and watched the last few minutes of daylight before the light vanished and it was pitch-dark, almost as though somebody had thrown a switch.

Even in her present mood she had to admit that this was a magic place at night. Below her were the palace gardens, hung with a thousand coloured lamps, glowing against the velvety blackness. Beyond that was the city, with its own lights, hinting at a rich, busy life. From somewhere below the sound of music floated up to her.

Looking down, she could see the paths that crisscrossed in the garden, and the figures that strolled in the blessed cool of the evening. One of them might almost have been Ali.

She peered at the tall figure in the white robes and gold agal. She couldn’t see his face, but his bearing and the way he moved made her sure that it was Ali. He was talking to someone by his side, someone smaller, whose head was covered and who might have been a woman…

Fran didn’t even realise that she’d tensed, leaning forward a little more, and a little more, until the figure turned-and she saw his beard. Then she discovered that she was gripping the rail with all her strength. She released it, feeling the waves of relief wash through her so fiercely that she felt faint.

To make it worse, Ali looked up at that moment. She stepped away so that he shouldn’t catch her looking at him. But she was sure he would have seen her. She turned quickly back into the room.

To pass the time she pulled out some of the books she found on a shelf near her bed. They were in English, and all about Kamar.

She had already learned a good deal about the country in her preparation for the feature, but this book concentrated more on the men who had shaped the principality.

Kamar was barely sixty years old. It had become a self-governing state because one determined man, Najeeb, had appeared out of the desert, sat himself and his tribe down on the first oil well, and refused to budge. He was the man the oil companies had had to deal with, and when he’d declared himself sovereign it had been easier not to argue.

He didn’t sound a very pleasant man, Fran thought, but he’d had vision, courage, determination and obstinacy. He’d been Ali’s grandfather.

His son, Najeeb the second, had made money easily and spent it easily. He’d had two sons, who had quarrelled for the throne, and the younger, Saleem, had triumphed. Saleem had opened up Kamar to modern technology, and seemed to have been an enlightened ruler.

The photographs showed men with curiously similar faces, fierce, hard, seeming to look out on far desert horizons. They all had a noticeable unyielding quality about the mouth and chin, the same quality Fran had seen in Ali’s face. He came from a line of men who were ruthless by nature, and also because ruthlessness was the only thing that paid. And he was one of them.

She was suddenly unwilling to read any more. She closed the book sharply. At once Leena was on her feet, urging that it was time to retire. Fran agreed.

It seemed that Leena would stay with her, sleeping on a small truckle bed, in case she should want anything during the night. Fran’s attempts to shoo her away proved fruitless, so she resigned herself. And when she awoke in the early hours, with a parched throat, it was pleasant to have someone make her some herbal tea that sent her back to a dreamless sleep.