The Sheikh’s Reward

CHAPTER SIX

IN THE morning Leena had a surprise for her.

‘We can go to the bazaar and do some shopping, if it is your wish,’ she suggested.

So she wasn’t to be kept locked in the palace all the time, Fran reflected. Perhaps while she was out she would find a chance to contact the British ambassador.

The maids dressed her in the peacock robes, and set the matching turban on her head. The veil was connected to one side of this, and could be drawn across her face to be hooked onto the other side.

Outside the door she found four large men waiting, their arms folded.

‘They are your guard of honour,’ Leena explained.

‘Oh, I see,’ Fran said wryly.

A stretch limousine waited below. One of the guards drove, the other three settled into the first compartment. Fran and Leena went into the second compartment. The car began to draw away.

But before they had travelled a couple of yards there was the sound of footsteps outside and one of the doors to the rear compartment was wrenched open. Next moment, a man had settled himself on the seat facing Fran, and pulled the door shut.

‘Get out!’ shrieked Leena. Then her hands flew to her mouth and she whispered, ‘My lord!’

It wasn’t Ali but a young man who resembled him, except that his expression was lighter and his eyes twinkled with merriment.

‘I couldn’t resist having a look at my cousin’s latest acquisition,’ he said cheerfully.

‘Your veil,’ Leena gasped to Fran.

‘Too late, I’ve seen her face now,’ the young man said. He smiled at Fran. ‘I am Prince Yasir, Ali’s cousin. Tell me, are the stories true? Did Ali really pay a hundred thousand for you?’

‘Pay?’ Fran gasped.

‘That’s what the rumours say. Most women don’t come so expensive. I’ve never paid more than thirty thousand myself, but Ali acquires only the best, and I can see you’re something out of the ordinary.’

‘Get out of here at once!’ Fran exploded. ‘Go on! Get out before I kick you out.’

Leena shrieked, but the young man merely roared with laughter. ‘And with the spirit of the devil. You were worth every penny. Goodbye-until we meet again.’

The next moment he opened the door and jumped out while the car was still moving.

‘He is a prince,’ Leena moaned, ‘and you threatened him. The royal displeasure will fall on us.’

‘Nonsense!’ Fran said robustly. ‘How dare he suggest that I was bought?’

‘But everyone says you cost Prince Ali a hundred thousand,’ Leena protested.

‘He gave that much to charity because-that is-to please me,’ Fran said, choosing her words carefully.

Leena gasped. ‘Then he must value you greatly.’

So now she knew how she was regarded here, Fran thought: as a high-priced acquisition, on a level with a jewel or a racehorse. No doubt Ali saw her in the same light.

Then she forgot her indignation in her excitement at being in the bazaar. As the limousine glided through the streets people backed away and bowed to the royal flag, although the darkened windows meant that they couldn’t see inside. They drew to a halt. Leena settled Fran’s veil back in place, and they stepped out of the car.

She gasped as she felt the noonday sun beating down on her. But when she’d had a few minutes to accustom herself she enjoyed the heat, the brilliant light and the dazzling colours. If this had been a holiday she would have revelled in it. As it was, the guard of honour constantly reminded her that she was a prisoner, although an honoured one.

Since she could order anything she wanted at the palace, there was little for her to buy in the street, but she chose a pair of white doves, whose cooing and friendly ways enchanted her. The vendor assured her, through Leena, that no cage was necessary.

‘Win their love, and they will stay with you,’ he promised.

‘He means they will fly back to him and he can sell them again,’ Leena said indignantly. ‘We’ll have a cage.’

‘No,’ Fran said. ‘No cage.’

Leena started to argue, but Fran silenced her. She took a bag of food from the vendor, and used it to entice the doves into the car. As they got in, Fran could see the driver talking into the car phone. She discovered why when she reached her room to find a dovecote already set up on the balcony.

To her delight the doves seemed pleased with their new home, and showed no inclination to fly away.

‘Not like me,’ she murmured to them. ‘I’ll fly at the first opportunity.’

There was a light snack, then Leena seemed mysteriously anxious for Fran to take a nap. But she refused to say why this was so important, until Fran had awoken and was taking a cooling bath.

‘What’s that?’ she demanded as Leena poured a sweet-smelling lotion into the water. Eyes closed, she breathed it in, and instantly strange thoughts began to float through her mind. It was a heady, erotic scent, hinting of passion incited and fulfilled. It was a perfume for lovers, and she breathed it in with relish.

Then abruptly she opened her eyes, assailed by suspicion. ‘I’m getting out of here,’ she said firmly, and climbed out of the tub. ‘And when I’ve had supper I’m going to bed for a very early night.’

‘But I have to prepare you for the master. He has chosen you to be his companion tonight. You are most honoured among women.’

‘Fiddlesticks!’ Fran said shortly. ‘If you think I’m going to let you do me up like a turkey being prepared for the table, you’re very much mistaken.’

‘But it is the custom,’ Leena wailed. ‘To be chosen by the great lord is the finest thing that can happen to a concubine.’

‘I’m not a concubine!’

‘The chosen one is bowed down with honour.’

‘Not this chosen one!’ Fran snapped. ‘I’m not going to be bowed down with anything. I shall go with my head up, look him in the eye and tell him what I think of him.’

‘But properly attired,’ Leena begged. ‘Or I am in trouble.’

‘Very well. Only for your sake.’

The seamstresses had worked through the night and the first of Fran’s new clothes was ready. It was a marvel in pale fawn satin and brocade, with a wide, jewel-encrusted sash around the tiny waist. Over it was a tunic of diaphanous silk gauze, also glittering with jewels. When the matching turban was in place Fran drew a disbelieving breath at the sight of the Arab beauty who looked back at her from the mirror.

Ali seemed to be there with her, whispering ‘I told you so’, his eyes glowing with desire…

She drew a sharp breath and castigated herself. She was furious with Ali, set on leaving him at the first chance and never seeing him again. She must remember that.

The door opened and Rasheeda entered. It was the first time Fran had seen the mistress of concubines since the first day. Rasheeda regarded her loftily, then nodded her approval. Leena visibly relaxed.

From outside the door came the melancholy, mysterious sound of a horn being blown.

‘Your litter is here,’ Rasheeda said, adjusting Fran’s veil. ‘You will travel inside it to His Highness’s apartments, and I will walk ahead proclaiming your coming. When you see the prince, remember to bow low and say, “Your humble servant greets you, my lord.” Do not meet his eyes unless he tells you to. To look at him without his permission is a grave offence. Do you understand?’

‘I understand,’ Fran said, breathing hard.

Rasheeda opened the door, four large men carried a curtained litter inside, and set it down. Leena parted the curtains for Fran to step in, closed the curtains firmly again, and they were on their way.

The litter was carried by men chosen for their size and strength. The inside was fitted with gold, inlaid with rubies and emeralds, and furnished with gold satin. The sides were shielded by curtains of white and gold brocade.

The journey seemed to take for ever. Shut away behind the curtains, Fran could only guess what was happening. In front of her she could hear the sound of the horn, followed by Rasheeda crying out words in Arabic.

She spent the time trying to sort out her thoughts and prepare what she was going to say to Ali. It would be like him, she thought crossly, not to be there when she arrived.

But he was there. She heard him speaking to the bearers, then the sound of feet retreating, the door closing.

‘You can get out now,’ came Ali’s amused voice.

Fran leapt out of the litter and looked around for him, but Ali had retreated to a safe distance and was watching her with laughing eyes. Fran snatched away her veil and faced him.

‘If you have the nerve to think that “your humble servant” is going to bow to you-’

‘But I don’t,’ he said, laughing. ‘That’s why I took the precaution of making sure we were alone first. If my servants had seen you greet me disrespectfully I should have had to cast you into a snakepit, which would rather have spoiled our evening.’

Fran regarded him. ‘How dare you send for me as though you had only to snap your fingers and I must jump to attention?’ she seethed.

‘But I’m afraid that’s exactly true,’ Ali said apologetically. ‘I appreciate that you are unfamiliar with this arrangement, but don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.’

‘Not in a million years!’

‘Will you and I be provoking each other for a million years, my Diamond? What a wonderful prospect.’ His eyes smiled at her, in a way that almost made her forget her anger. ‘How beautiful you are!’

‘Don’t try to change the subject.’

‘To me, your beauty is always the subject. How your eyes enthral me!’ He deftly removed the turban, letting her hair fall freely about her shoulders, and running his hands through it. ‘And your hair! How I have dreamed of your hair!’ He drew her into his arms. ‘And of your lips,’ he said, covering them.

A thousand answers jostled in her brain, but with her mouth engaged with his possessive kisses she could make none of them. She tried to hold onto rational thought, but she was just realising that she had secretly longed for his embrace. Throughout all her justified indignation, that yearning had been there, like a subtle, endlessly repeated chord. Now she had what her flesh wanted and her mind resisted.

‘Tell me,’ he whispered, ‘haven’t you dreamed of me, just a little?’

‘Yes,’ she said, and watched the eager light come into his eyes. ‘I’ve dreamed of how I was going to make you very, very sorry. I enjoyed those dreams.’

‘How hard-hearted you are!’ he chided her softly.

‘I’m-?’

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off by his mouth on hers. She should have been ready for him, but nothing could have prepared her for the scorching intensity with which he caressed her lips again and again, until she gasped from the sensation.

‘Such a battle we will have,’ he whispered. ‘And how we will enjoy the victory!’

‘Whose victory?’

‘When we lie in each other’s arms it will be a victory for both of us. Otherwise it will not be a true loving. We must look to the night ahead with joy.’

‘We-’

‘But for a while we must wait,’ he added, releasing her. ‘Passion, like many things, must be deferred so that it’s full savour can be appreciated. Try to be a little patient.’

Fran was speechless. To give herself the relief of exercise she began to pace Ali’s apartment, which was stupendous in its luxury. It was a kind of labyrinth, with horseshoe arches leading off in all directions. The mosaics on the walls were inlaid with intricately worked gold that gleamed richly in the soft light.

They were in a large room with several tables, laden with every possible variety of food. Instead of chairs, long couches were strewn around, as though for an orgy. But there were just the two of them.

‘It’s shocking, isn’t it?’ Ali said, reading her face.

‘Yes, it is,’ she responded indignantly. ‘Nobody has the right to live like this when there are people starving.’ She studied one of the walls and added, ‘It looks new.’

‘You sound as though that made it worse.’

‘It does. If this was an old palace I might-’

‘Forgive me?’

‘Understand the need. I mean, if it’s there anyway- but building from scratch-all that money-’

‘Blame my great-grandfather, Najeeb. He built the first palace, but it wasn’t big enough, so his son had to build this one.’

‘The first palace?’

‘I love you when your eyes pop with virtuous indignation. Come out onto the balcony and I’ll show you the Sahar Palace. It’s called that because Sahar means dawn, and with its high tower it catches the dawn sun before any other building.’

His balcony looked out over the city. Following his pointing finger, she just made out Sahar Palace. It was hard because the building was in darkness. Simply abandoned, she thought crossly. Her fingers itched to get at her Dictaphone and make notes of the waste and extravagance in this country. Luckily her memory was excellent.

‘Can you put your puritan scruples aside long enough to eat something?’ Ali asked, taking her hand and leading her to where a banquet was laid out on long tables decked with flowers.

‘I hope the food is to your liking,’ he said, pointing to one dish.

‘Chicken with dates and honey,’ Fran said in wonder.

‘I promised that we would have your favourite dish the next time we dined together. Who would have thought it would be under such circumstances?’

‘You would. You had this planned all the time.’

‘Oh, no. Not until you threw down the gauntlet. I had no choice but to take it up. You insulted me, and you couldn’t be allowed to get away with it.’

‘Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, seeking revenge?’ she challenged. ‘Only petty men do that.’

He laughed. ‘In your country, maybe. But here a man who doesn’t take revenge for an insult cannot hold up his head.’

‘On a woman?’

He shrugged. ‘The insult came from a woman. And, since a thousand women cannot be the equal of one man, a man who lets himself be bested by a woman is truly disgraced.’

She was about to explode when she saw his eyes twinkling at her, as though he knew exactly what she expected, and was playing up to it. And she remembered just what a very clever man Ali was. She was moving through a strange dream, where every reference was moved, the impossible became real and the solid ground dissolved beneath her feet. And he understood it all.

As he had done the first night, he handed her to her seat, and served her himself.

‘It’s a good thing your servants can’t see you doing that,’ she observed. ‘I’m sure it’s beneath your dignity to serve a woman.’

‘Touché. But, as you are constantly reminding me, you are like no other woman.’

‘No, I’m worth a good deal more, aren’t I?’ she riposted, remembering a grievance. ‘I gather thirty thousand is the going rate.’

‘Ah, yes, you’ve met my cousin. He’s an engaging rascal, but he has no sense of responsibility. He acts first and thinks afterwards. He’d like me to give him a share in running the country, but he’ll have to grow up first. It was improper of him to force himself on you this morning.’

‘And see me without my veil; don’t forget that.’ She added primly, ‘I nearly fainted with horror.’

He laughed at her irony. ‘Yes, I guessed your delicate sensibilities would be offended.’

‘My sensibilities were offended by discovering that you’ve let everyone think that a hundred thousand was my purchase price, as though I were one of your racehorses.’

‘Certainly not!’ Ali said, shocked. ‘A first-class racehorse costs far more than that.’

Fran threw up her hands in despair. ‘There’s no talking to you.’

He grinned and filled her wine glass.

For the moment she gave up trying to bring him to a sense of his iniquity. The food was splendid, she knew she looked beautiful, and she was with the most attractive man she had ever met. It was useless to deny that, even if he was her enemy. And it was hard to think of him as an enemy when his eyes danced at her over his glass and told her that she entranced him.

‘Come,’ he said, when they had finished eating. ‘I have something for you to see.’

He took her hand and led her to a chest that stood near the window. He flung it open and she gasped at the treasure that lay within. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, pearls, gold and silver lay there, jumbled together.

Ali lifted a necklace of emeralds set in gold and held it up before her eyes.

‘You have the kind of colouring that can wear all jewels,’ he said. ‘Diamonds and pearls, as well as rubies and emeralds. Today I think it will be emeralds; tomorrow-’

‘Nothing,’ Fran said. ‘Neither today nor tomorrow. I won’t take anything from you, Ali, because I have nothing to give back.’

She looked at him levelly. She wanted no misunderstanding.

He sighed. ‘Why do you fight what is between us?’

‘Because I’m here by force. As long as I’m a prisoner, there is nothing between us.’

‘You’re a hard, unforgiving woman-’

‘I’m a free woman.’ She tapped her breast. ‘Free in my heart, where it counts. In here I have something that you’ll never conquer by force or trickery.’

Before she could say more the door was flung open and someone strode into the room. Fran started at the sight of Prince Yasir. His face was flushed, and he seemed on the verge of losing control.

Ali’s face darkened, and he said something in Arabic that sounded like a command. Yasir replied in the same tongue, obviously furious. He pointed to Fran, and held up two, then three fingers. She stared at him, wondering if she’d understood properly, and which of them she was angrier with if she had.

Ali was clearly giving a refusal, and Yasir’s temper increased. Ali made a gesture of finality. Yasir pointed at Fran and held up four fingers.

‘You do and you’re dead!’ she muttered.

‘Don’t worry,’ Ali replied coolly. ‘When I sell you, I shall demand much more than four times the original price.’

‘How much?’ Yasir demanded at once. ‘For her I pay whatever you ask.’

He reached for Fran, who drew back a fist in readiness. But Ali was there before her. The next moment Yasir was reeling back against the wall, rubbing his chin.

Ali gave him no chance to recover. Seizing Yasir’s collar, he hauled him to the door and threw him out. He turned back into the room before the look in his eyes had changed, and Fran backed away, astounded at what she saw there. Ali was ready to commit murder.

In two steps he was beside her, pulling her into his arms.

‘He dared to offer me money for you,’ he grated. ‘He thinks money can buy anything.’

‘Not me,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Neither his nor yours.’

She wasn’t sure that he heard her. His eyes were searching her with the brooding intensity of a man who’d seen a prize almost snatched from him, but had recovered it in time.

‘From the moment I first saw you I knew you had to be mine,’ he murmured. ‘I can wait no longer.’

She stiffened in alarm. She had resolved not to yield, and if she didn’t assert herself now it would be too late.

‘Ali, let me go,’ she breathed.

‘Never in life. You’re mine, and you’ll be mine for ever.’

The prospect was seductively sweet. For a moment her senses swam. To give him all of herself on a tide of passion, if only…

Putting out all her strength, she broke from him and turned away quickly.

‘This isn’t going to happen,’ she gasped.

Ali’s eyes kindled as he reached for her, and Fran knew he was at danger point. There was only one thing to do. Throwing caution to the winds, she fended him off and boxed his ears hard enough to make his eyes water.

It was safe to assume that no woman had ever treated his royal person in such a way before. Ali was motionless through sheer astonishment.

‘You forced me,’ Fran said breathlessly.

‘You-’

‘Don’t look at me like that.’ She swiftly put a table between them. ‘It was your own fault for not acting like a gentleman.’

‘I don’t have to be a gentleman,’ he snapped. ‘I’m the prince.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong. The prince should always be a gentleman.’

Ali breathed hard. ‘You picked a wonderful time to start lecturing me. Your recklessness will lead you into trouble one day.’

‘One day? What do you think this is? So now what happens? Do I get thrown into a dungeon for daring to strike the prince?’

‘Don’t tempt me,’ Ali said through gritted teeth. He turned sharply away, less he see the confusion in his eyes as he brought his temper under control. When he felt he could speak calmly he turned back and regarded her with frosty eyes.

‘Now will you release me?’ Fran demanded.

‘Release you?’ he echoed in amazement. ‘After this?’ He took a long, hard breath. ‘Much as I would like to let you feel the full weight of my displeasure, I have to approach the matter more subtly. Tomorrow you will be taken to a different apartment.’

‘Aha!’ she said triumphantly. ‘The dungeon!’

Ali gritted his teeth. ‘Your new apartment will be of the greatest comfort and luxury. You will have eight maidservants with instructions to attend to your every whim. Wherever you go, people will bow. I shall shower you with jewels, which you will wear at all times.’

‘What is this?’ Fran demanded suspiciously. ‘If you’re hoping to change my mind, let me tell you-’

‘From this moment you are my official favourite, entitled to the special treatment of one who has exerted herself to please me.’

‘But I didn’t exert myself to please you. Nor will I, ever!’

‘Well, if you think I want the world knowing that-!’ he said savagely.

Fran stared at him, her jaw dropping as the implications of this washed over her.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ she breathed. ‘You’re caught, aren’t you? You can’t let anyone suspect that Prince Ali Ben Saleem had his face slapped by a woman he’d deigned to honour.’ She gave a peal of laughter.

‘If you don’t stop that,’ he grated, ‘I really will throw you into a dungeon.’

‘No, you won’t,’ she choked. ‘It would give too much away. And after you paid all that money for me you wouldn’t want people to know that your judgement was slipping. Oh, heavens! This is wonderful!’

‘That’s enough!’ There was real menace in his eyes this time. ‘You’re very sure of yourself, but suppose I decided to dispense with your consent? Who do you think would help you?’

She met his eyes, unafraid, defiant. ‘You won’t do that.’

‘Let me remind you who I am, and what my powers are.’

‘But that’s why you won’t,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It would be an admission of failure, an admission that you can’t win me. Nobody else might know, but you and I would, and you couldn’t live with that.’

His face was black with anger and she knew she’d touched a nerve.

‘And there’s another reason,’ she added. ‘You couldn’t do it. You’re a tyrant, a scheming manipulator and an arrogant, conceited dictator, but you’re fundamentally a decent man, and it isn’t in you.’

He regarded her. The fury had died out of his face but his eyes were still unforgiving.

‘You have the tongue of a serpent,’ he said bitterly. ‘Let me warn you that a woman who can discern a man’s weaknesses should have the good sense not to taunt him with them.’

‘So you admit you have weaknesses? Well, that’s a step in the right direction.’

‘Does nothing make you afraid?’ he snapped.

‘Would I tell you?’

‘Even you have weaknesses.’

‘But perhaps I’m better at keeping them hidden.’

Ali breathed hard. ‘To think that I-’ He checked himself, on the verge of putting something into words that shocked him.

‘That you what?’

‘Nothing. But one day I shall have sons. And I shall tell them about women like you, and warn them to avoid such women like scorpions.’

‘Pity someone didn’t warn you,’ Fran said affably. ‘I think I’ll be going now. Will you summon the bearers?’

‘Are you mad?’ he demanded. ‘You can’t leave before morning or the whole palace will know.’

‘And your reputation will be shot to pieces,’ she teased.

‘Do you realise that you’ve condemned us to a night of making small talk?’

‘You could give me that interview.’

‘Be very careful!’

‘All right, then I’m going to sit down and finish my supper. And why shouldn’t we make small talk? I’ll bet you’ve never done that with a woman before.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘It isn’t nonsense. You only have two attitudes to women-seductive and dismissive. But you can’t seduce me and for a few hours you can’t dismiss me, so you’ll have to talk to me properly, about something that really matters.’

‘I’ve told you I don’t do that with women.’

‘Exactly my point. So we seem to be faced with a long, boring night, chatting about the weather.’

He merely scowled and seated himself. When Fran poured him some wine he scowled again, but accepted it. She had a sudden conviction that he was longing to rub his cheek, but would die rather than let her see him do it.

Her lips twitched. On the face of it nothing had changed. She was still Ali’s prisoner, subject to his power. But she had challenged that power, and discovered its limits, and her confidence was coming back.