Читать книгу Modern Romance December Books 5-8 - Дженнифер Хейворд - Страница 23

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘AS WE’VE DISCUSSED, arrangements have been made to keep your mother safe.’

‘Thank you.’

‘However,’ he continued, brushing off her gratitude, ‘until I receive certain reassurances, you will stay in Qalala.’ Tadj’s stare was penetrating. ‘I understand that you had to get away, and would do anything—use anyone—to make sure that happened.’

‘Please don’t look at me like that. I never set out to get pregnant, but I’m glad that I am.’

‘Can I believe you?’

‘You must,’ she insisted softly.

‘For the sake of our child?’ Tadj suggested. ‘I suppose I’ll never know what you were thinking three months ago. I can only make plans going forward from now.’

Anger surged inside her. They were both in the wrong, and she had no intention of being painted as the only sinner. ‘How do you think I feel, when you ask me to be your mistress, to satisfy your sexual urges?’

‘My sexual urges?’ Tadj laughed out loud. ‘That’s rich, coming from you. Bottom line,’ he snapped, before Lucy had chance to speak, ‘you’re under my protection, and there you will stay—and that includes you, your mother, and the baby.’

‘Our baby,’ she fired back. ‘And my stepfather? What are you going to do about him? No one’s safe while he’s roaming free.’

‘Your stepfather has been returned to jail where he belongs, and he won’t be coming out of prison ever again, once my investigators have shared their information.’

Lucy was stunned into silence. She couldn’t believe that her stepfather’s tyranny was at an end. It meant she was free, and her mother was safe. Tadj had accomplished the seemingly impossible, by lifting a lifetime of fear and dread from her shoulders. ‘It’s really over?’ she whispered as she marvelled at this fact.

‘And always will be from now on,’ Tadj confirmed. ‘I wish you’d told me from the start.’

‘We hardly knew each other,’ she pointed out. ‘I wouldn’t burden you with that on the first day we met.’

‘All the same, I wish you had,’ Tadj told her.

‘How can I ever thank you?’ she asked.

‘I’ll think of something,’ he promised with one of his dark, unreadable looks. ‘But now you’d better get ready for the party. That’s one way you can repay me tonight.’

By keeping up a good front, Lucy thought, longing for more as Tadj added, ‘Call your mother. Let her know the good news, and then get ready. I’ll return to collect you in half an hour.’

‘Half an hour,’ Lucy agreed tensely, knowing the phone call would take up every moment of that time.

* * *

What Lucy could never have expected was that several women would approach the tent just as she had tearfully ended the call to her mother and offer to help Lucy get ready for the party. It was impossible not to succumb to their warmth and friendliness. The way they had welcomed her to their community reminded Lucy of her first day at the laundry, where she’d made so many new friends. Just like them, these women were full of advice on how to wear her hair, and what make-up to put on. Language wasn’t a barrier as several of them spoke English fluently.

‘You should grow your hair,’ one of the women insisted, and when Lucy asked why, she was told that a lover liked to run his fingers through long hair, while another, bolder woman, suggested other uses, when it came to teasing a man into a state where he would agree to anything. Lucy laughed with them, and said that her hair would have to do, and that whatever help they gave her, she would never be glamorous as they were. In Lucy’s opinion, their exotic sloe-eyed beauty completely eclipsed her own Celtic complexion with its peppering of freckles. This statement was greeted by a chorus of disagreement, but what would Tadj think? she wondered when one of the women had directed her to a full-length mirror. Gone was the utilitarian outfit she had arrived in, and in its place was a two-piece of such exquisite workmanship she felt like a queen.

Queen for a night, Lucy reflected ruefully as the women tweaked and smoothed the delicate fabric of her trousers and matching tunic. There wasn’t much they could do with her short haircut other than to place a single hibiscus blossom behind her ear.

So, hang me, I’m excited, she thought, imagining Tadj’s expression when he saw her all dressed up for the party. Even after everything that had happened between them, the prospect of spending time with the sometimes forbidding Emir of Qalala made her face burn and her body sing hallelujah in four-part harmony.

‘You look beautiful,’ one of the older woman told her. ‘The Emir won’t be able to resist you.’

‘He’ll fall in love with you,’ another insisted.

Lucy’s shoulders slumped. Somehow, she doubted that.

‘You’re ready, I see.’

She whirled around to find Tadj standing behind her. He was silhouetted in the opening of the tent, backed by the blaze of countless campfires, and the sight of him dressed in traditional desert garb was enough to convince her that Lucy Gillingham was indeed a lost cause. Her pulse was racing, while her body was going crazy in the presence of her all-powerful fantasy desert Sheikh made all too heart-stoppingly real. In a simple black tunic, with loose-fitting trousers and a headdress wrapped around his fiercely handsome face, this desert king was sex on two hard-muscled legs. She was smitten all over again.

Love swelled inside her. As did doubt. The power of his presence was undeniably formidable, but did Tadj respect her as the mother of his child, or was she a convenient womb, to be dismissed as soon as their baby was safely delivered? For a woman who had seized control of her life and had been steering it in a steady and constant direction for some time now, it was unnerving to know that this was one situation over which she had no control.

Lucy’s stepfather had been a problem, which Tadj had dealt with in his usual incisive way. She wouldn’t be troubled again. Even after everything they’d been through, he wouldn’t change a thing, Tadj concluded as he stared past the group of smiling women to the only woman who could turn his life upside down. Lucy looked stunning tonight, though he’d put her on show, and had expected her to behave a certain way, and that while she was vulnerable and her life was under the microscope. To her credit, she hadn’t let him down. It remained to be seen how she would handle tonight’s raw desert gathering.

Lucy proved to have a natural friendly way with everyone. How could he have forgotten that? he wondered, remembering her many friends at the laundry as he took in the crowd that had gathered around her on cushions in front of the open fire. With one of the older women acting as Lucy’s unofficial interpreter, he wondered if the questions would ever end, though she fielded all of them with grace and humour, which was more than he deserved.

She felt his gaze on her, and stared at him in a way that made him want to join her immediately, but it was time for him to receive the fealty of the heads of tribes. He felt her continuing interest as he did this, and briefly wished he could offer Lucy more, but, until the law of the land was changed, Qalala expected him to make a politically advantageous marriage, and to please his people that would have to be soon.

When the formalities were over, he stripped off his top. Lucy seemed surprised when he dumped it onto the cushion next to her.

‘Are we about to give a practical demonstration of my place in your world?’ she asked discreetly.

Her words made him instantly hard, but he shot her a look, to warn her not to try his patience. No one addressed the Emir of Qalala in front of his people in a disrespectful way. ‘I am preparing for the games,’ he informed her.

Pulling her head back, she gave him one of her looks. ‘Didn’t I just say that?’

‘The desert games,’ he said patiently, though a betraying twitch of his lips might have given him away. No one could make him laugh at himself like Lucy.

‘Indeed,’ she said, flinching when someone handed him a sabre. ‘Don’t cut yourself with that.’

‘I’ll try not to,’ he assured her. Dipping at the waist, he brought his mouth close to her ear. ‘Rest assured, no one has lost their life at one of these gatherings yet.’

‘There’s always a first time,’ she said brightly.

His warning look was completely wasted, though she did have the good grace to look alarmed when one of the tribesmen brought up his horse.

‘Is that thing even safe to ride?’

With a brief ironic glance, he leapt onto the back of his black stallion. ‘We shall see,’ he murmured.

‘Just remember,’ she said, springing up and grabbing the bridle, ‘you’ve got responsibilities now.’

‘You’re beginning to sound like a wife,’ he commented as he wheeled his horse around.

‘And you’re the very spit of a delinquent husband,’ she yelled after him as he galloped away.

He should be angry, but he wanted Lucy too much to be impatient with her for long, and, with the heat of competition on him, he was keen to get these games over with, and turn lust into reality. Whatever the outcome, Lucy would be in his bed tonight, where he’d be sure to make her pay, and in the most pleasurable way imaginable, for her unadulterated cheek.

Stay safe, you stubborn son-of-a-she-wolf, Lucy thought, clenching her fists with anxiety as she watched Tadj line up with the other riders, all of whom were mounted on spirited horses. There were women in the mix, she noticed with interest. So why was she sitting by the fireside? She was a damn good rider, and had been happy on horseback since her father had strapped her into a basket saddle on an old Shetland pony when she could barely walk. And these desert games weren’t so much violent as skilful, she decided as a huge cheer went up. Riders raced down a torchlit track in pairs towards a gourd hanging from a pole. That was exactly the type of game she’d played with her friends. The first jockey to cut the gourd and return to the start line was the winner. Her gaze flashed to the pony lines, where several likely-looking animals stood waiting...

What the hell was she doing? Tadj’s pulse rocketed as he spotted Lucy vaulting onto the back of a half-wild Arab pony. He yelled a warning, but, leaning low over the animal’s neck as it broke into a flat-out gallop, she couldn’t hear him.

And she accused him of taking risks!

Quitting the race, he wheeled his horse around and chased after her. The track was long and full of riders; so many that the youths whose job it was to hang the gourds could hardly keep up. Just as he reached her, Lucy seized a gourd, spun her pony around, and flashed past him. Brandishing the prize high in triumph provoked ear-splitting cheers from the crowd. She might be a stranger in their midst, but she was their champion tonight, and her surprise win had made her the spectators’ favourite. Not his, he thought grimly as he urged his horse to catch up with hers. Seizing Lucy around the waist, he lifted her onto his galloping stallion, which provoked another round of cheers. Not surprisingly, Lucy was distinctly unimpressed.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she yelled at him in fury.

‘Saving you from yourself,’ he retorted grimly as he tightened his grip. Taking her back at a steady canter to the pony lines, he dismounted and carefully lifted her down.

‘I don’t know what you think you’re playing at,’ she said, throwing him off. ‘I knew what I was doing. That was just an advanced version of the games we used to play when I was a child on the farm.’

‘And were you pregnant at that time?’ he remarked coolly.

‘Don’t you dare suggest I’d take risks with my baby,’ she warned as he led her away.

‘Well, you’re not playing games on my watch,’ he said, adding, ‘especially not dangerous games,’ as he escorted her back to her tent.

‘Why not? Aren’t rowdy games an appropriate pastime for your mistress?’ Before he could answer, she added hotly, ‘There were plenty of other women taking part—as well as children.’

‘My interest is you—and you, in case you had forgotten, are pregnant.’

‘Really? I’m your only interest? You could have fooled me,’ she snapped. ‘You ignore me most of the time, unless a particular type of carnal hunger strikes you, of course.’

‘Which it never does for you,’ he fired back, realising as he did so that, while no one could make him laugh like Lucy, no one could rouse every one of his carefully contained emotions as she could. He had never felt this heated before. Lucy’s safety, and that of their child, were paramount.

‘So, is it because I’m a woman that you object to my riding in the games, or because I’m your woman?’

‘Because you’re pregnant!’ he roared, seemingly unable to get his point across.

‘So now you care?’ she mocked.

Pregnancy hormones, he thought as her eyes welled with tears. Upbeat one minute, she was on the edge of an emotional meltdown the next. He’d been doing some reading, as well as investigating, since Lucy had catapulted back into his life, and recognised the signs. ‘Of course I care,’ he insisted, then realised he was shouting. He never lost control—ever. Consumed by frustration, he snatched the sabre out of her hands, and tossed it to a waiting attendant.

‘I’m pregnant, not sick,’ she insisted as he ushered her inside the tent.

‘You’re a damn nuisance,’ he spat out. ‘What if you’d been hurt?’

‘You could send me back as damaged goods,’ she flashed, her eyes welling again, ‘and recruit a new mistress.’

‘Now you’re being ridiculous,’ he insisted with an impatient gesture.

‘Am I?’ she flared. ‘You bring me here with one thing in mind, which is to be your official mistress. Knowing I wouldn’t agree, you trump up excuses about some job or other—anything to get me here.’

‘Which should tell you how much I care.’

‘It tells me you’re a complete control freak.’

‘And what about you?’ he argued. ‘Deceit got you here, and has carried you through this far. Am I supposed to think better of you now?’

‘I don’t care what you think,’ she railed, her voice shaking. ‘I did what I had to.’

‘You do care.’ Grabbing her arms, he held her still. ‘You care too much, which is why you’re always trying to please everyone.’

‘And failing miserably, I suppose.’

He couldn’t bear to see Lucy hugging herself defensively. ‘Yes,’ he confirmed. The truth might be harsh, but it was preferable to how they’d handled things so far.

‘All right,’ she said. Straightening up, she lowered her arms. ‘I will stay, but only on mutually acceptable terms.’

He dipped his head to stare into her eyes. ‘You’re setting terms now?’

‘You bet I am,’ she told him. ‘What’s so funny?’ she asked. ‘Just because you’re not used to people standing up to you, doesn’t mean I’m willing to fall in line. I need to work to support myself and the baby, but I’m extremely keen to learn as much as I can about our child’s heritage, which is why I want to stay on in Qalala—at least while I’m on holiday from college.’

‘So, being with me has nothing to do with your decision?’

Frowning deeply, she remained silent.

Shaking his head slowly, he stared into Lucy’s fierce and determined eyes. She was as stubborn as he was. ‘You are, without doubt, the most annoying woman I have ever met.’

‘I would hate to come second,’ she said.

‘No chance of that.’ Nudging her inside the tent, he dismissed their attendants. ‘Sit,’ he instructed.

‘Sit yourself—or am I to be lectured like a child?’

Anything but a child, Lucy was a beautiful woman, who was carrying his baby, and he could think of no better mother. How to cope with Lucy’s spirit was a question for another day, but did he want to clip her wings? Could he offer her enough to make it worth her while to stay? Money didn’t interest her, so for once in his charmed life he wasn’t sure. ‘As I mentioned on the flight here, I have a proposition for you—and it’s something that doesn’t hang on you becoming my mistress.’

‘Well, that’s a relief,’ she said.

‘Allow me to pause while I take in your compliment.’

‘So, what is it?’ she said, green eyes narrowing with suspicion.

‘I’m offering you a job as part of my team in the sapphire division. You’d be paid the same as everyone else. Anything else is up to you.’

‘And, what would the job entail?’

‘Designing an exhibition for the best of the jewellery. I want to create a heritage museum here on site, as well as a touring exhibition.’

‘Quite a small job, then,’ she said dryly, but there was a distinct glint of interest in her eyes.

‘Quite insignificant,’ he agreed, acting stern.

‘I’d be a tiny cog in a huge wheel,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘Correct. But each cog has something unique to offer, and, without it, the smooth running of the machine cannot be guaranteed.’

‘You put it so persuasively,’ she observed dryly.

‘That was my intention,’ he confessed with the hint of a smile.

‘Are you serious?’ she asked. ‘I mean, this is like my dream job.’

‘Never more so. Why waste your education?’

‘If I agree, you can’t treat me as if I’m made of glass.’

‘I won’t hesitate to pass an opinion,’ he warned.

‘And neither will I,’ she countered with spirit.

‘I would expect nothing less of you.’ And, done with talking, he brought her into his arms.

‘You’ve got a cheek.’

‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘And you have a beautiful body.’

‘When can I see the mine and the museum?’

‘When I say you can.’

‘And when will that be?’

‘You have to earn the privilege.’

As he held her still, she softened. ‘When can I begin?’ she asked, searching his eyes in a way that made him instantly hard.

‘Right now?’

They only had to look into each other’s eyes for understanding to spring between them. They were so well matched, and Lucy could always surprise him, he thought as she sank to her knees in front of him, not to bow in gratitude—oh, no, she’d never do that—but to wrap her mouth around him over the fine linen of his trousers until he couldn’t think straight.

‘Who’s in control now?’ she lifted her head to whisper.

Throwing his head back, he laughed, but shocked pleasure soon silenced him as she tightened her mouth around. Waves of sensation punched through him, and he groaned involuntarily as he opened his mouth to drag in some much-needed air. And this wasn’t all she had in mind. Her nimble fingers were soon working on the fastening at his waist, and she freed him in no time.

The heat of Lucy’s mouth on his engorged flesh was indescribable. Sufficient to say that the rasp of her tongue promised release like never before.