Читать книгу Darker Side Of Desire - Пенни Джордан, PENNY JORDAN - Страница 5

THERE was no reason for her to feel so dissatisfied. Her day had passed pleasantly enough, Claire told herself. She had visited the Tate to admire many old favourites, and then there had been a pleasant walk through the park. Now she was on her way back to the Dorchester to indulge herself with afternoon tea in the promenade room, so why should she feel this tiny feathering of restlessness that kept disturbing her? Perhaps it was because she was alone. She would write to Teddy, send him a postcard of the hotel. Thinking of Teddy reminded her of her ever-present worries about finding his school fees. Generous though her salary was, it couldn’t cover them. She would have to find a part-time job. By her reckoning, she could just about manage two more terms with what savings they had left, and the present term’s were paid.

‘Afternoon tea, madam?’ The waiter’s voice broke into her reverie, and when she nodded he showed her to a comfortable padded chair, the small table in front of her set for two.

It was just gone five o’clock, obviously a popular time for tea, because most of the tables were taken, and Claire amused herself as she waited for hers to be brought by studying her surroundings. The room itself was long and rectangular with several sets of doors leading off it which she knew led to the restaurants. Decorated in soft buttercup-yellow with the frieze picked out in gold, the decor was an attractive one. Marble columns soared up to the ceiling, and underfoot was a soft patterned carpet rather like an Aubusson. Voices rose and fell mingling with the chink of china cups and the clatter of cutlery against plates.

Nibbling her dainty sandwiches, Claire continued her scrutiny. Expensively and elegantly dressed men and women sat at the small tables, couples in the main, although there were some family groups. All at once she felt very alone, the food she was eating turning to sawdust in her mouth. Pushing away her plate, Claire got up unsteadily, the events of the morning catching up with her. The Head Porter handed her her key when she asked for it, and also an envelope bearing her name. Unable to recognise the handwriting, Claire frowned as she headed for the lift, the small mystery solved when she opened the envelope and realised that the letter was from Sheikh Ahmed.

The lift came. She was the sole passenger and started to read her letter as she was borne upwards. Barely able to take in its contents before the lift stopped, she hurried to her room, unlocking the door with nervous fingers, sinking down into the comfortable chair by the window before unfolding the heavy, expensive paper and reading through the note again.

The Sheikh wanted to see her to discuss something with her. But what? The note was almost deliberately evasive, full of gratitude for what she had done and yet really telling her nothing of the Sheikh’s purpose in writing to her. He would send someone to escort her to his suite, his note informed her. Obviously she wasn’t going to be allowed to refuse.

Repressing a sigh, Claire found the card she had bought for Teddy and started to write to him. The summer holidays were coming up and she already knew that Teddy had been invited to join a schoolfriend on his father’s yacht. She had been worrying about how she was going to pay for the clothes that he would need, but her godmother’s generous cheque had solved that problem. It would also enable her to give Teddy some money of his own to spend while he was away and she was just writing to him to this effect when she heard the sharp rap on her door. Guessing in advance that it would be one of Sheikh Ahmed’s armed men, she went to the door and opened it, suppressing a small stunned gasp of dismay when she realised he had sent Raoul.

‘I’ll just get my bag and my key,’ she told him, surprised to find that he was following her into her room. Her key and bag were on the far bed and as she picked them up she was astounded to discover that Raoul was openly reading the card she had been writing to Teddy.

‘Your lover?’ he questioned, without a hint of embarrassment at being discovered.

‘My relationship with Teddy is private,’ Claire responded furiously. From the first moment she had set eyes on him something about this man had antagonised her, and it was plain that he shared her antipathy. He was looking at her with something that bordered on acute dislike.

‘That will be something my uncle hasn’t bargained for,’ he murmured under his breath as he straightened up, but before Claire could question him further he was heading for the door, the small courtesy of opening it for her and then standing back so that she could precede him, drawing a thin, sardonic smile from his lips. ‘My mother used to say that the thing that made her fall in love with my father was his good manners. My countrymen…’

‘Believe in treating their women like possessions,’ Claire said unwisely. ‘No wonder your mother chose to marry a European.’

‘You prefer European males to Eastern?’ The dark eyebrows shot up. ‘Why is that, I wonder? Because you know it is easier to dominate them? Are you then a modern, liberated woman, Miss Miles, who believes herself equal or indeed superior to my sex? A woman who chooses her lovers as her grandmother might have done a new gown and discards them just as easily…’

Trying to hold on to her temper, Claire responded briefly, ‘And you? Am I to infer from what you have said that you prefer your women to be of a more biddable disposition; Muslim women, in fact, taught from the cradle to revere and worship the dominant male? How fortunate we both are that we can indulge our separate tastes without opposition.’

She had meant the words as a taunt, but had been totally unprepared for the look of dark, almost brooding anger that tightened every feature, his eyes almost black as they bored into puzzled grey ones.

‘You might be able to indulge your preferences, Miss Miles,’ he said at last, ‘I am less fortunate. Muslim fathers are careful where they bestow their daughters, and like any child of a dual-race marriage, I am totally accepted by neither. Indeed, if it were not for the good offices of my uncle Sheikh Ahmed, I doubt I would even have a country to call my own.’ He saw her expression and his face hardened further. ‘You might find the thought of a marriage between East and West a romantic concept, Miss Miles,’ he told her, correctly reading her thoughts, ‘but my mother soon discovered to her cost that my father had no intention of keeping the promises he made when they became man and wife. In the East at least a woman has the comfort of her family if she should be deserted or ill-treated by her husband, in the West… My father married my mother purely for her wealth. Once they were married and I was conceived, he devoted all his spare time to other women and gambling. My mother died shortly after I was born. The shame of her husband’s desertion was something she could no longer endure, and once my father discovered that he was not going to benefit from his marriage, he gave my uncle the option of either bringing me up himself or placing me in an orphanage.’

Why was he telling her this? Only this morning he had savaged her with the knife thrust of his contempt for merely betraying a brief curiosity, but now he was telling her the intimate details of his life, and in such a taut, bitter way that she guessed every word was a sharp thorn piercing an old wound. She couldn’t understand it.

They were borne upwards in the lift towards the Sheikh’s private suite. As before, the Sheikh was alone, his smile welcoming and she was sure sincere, as he waved her into a chair.

‘Please, sit down, Miss Miles,’ he glanced at his nephew as Claire obediently sank into a plush chair. ‘Has Raoul said anything to you of my purpose in asking you to join us?’

‘I have told her nothing. You know my views.’

‘But if she is agreeable you will…’

‘I will do whatever is needed to protect the child, you know that.’

Alarmed by the harsh tone of his voice and the undercurrents she could sense seething between the two men, Claire glanced from Raoul’s set, dark face to the Sheikh’s kinder, but no less resolute one.

‘You are alarming our guest, Raoul,’ he berated mildly ‘My dear, there is no need to be afraid. Indeed we are the ones to suffer that emotion lest you should…’ He broke off while Claire stared up at him in mystification. Neither of them struck her as men who would fear anything, especially Raoul. By his actions this morning he had proved that when it came to physical danger… She shuddered, suddenly over-taken by a vivid memory of the gunmen and the rapid sound of gunfire, the fear that had been pushed aside by the adrenalin-induced need to act now emerging to surge sickeningly through her veins. Only the knowledge that Raoul was watching her and would no doubt relish her weakness gave her the strength to suppress her feelings, her nerves as taut as fine wire as she waited for the Sheikh to continue.

‘I have a proposition to put to you, Miss Miles,’ he began quietly, and beneath the calm dignity of his manner Claire sensed a deep inner disquietude. ‘Indeed, it is only because I sense within you a warm and sympathetic personality that I am able to speak of this matter to you at all.’ He gave her a charming smile. ‘You might say that I am taking an unfair advantage of your good nature, and I’m afraid that is true. This morning you risked your own life to save that of my nephew…’

‘I acted entirely instinctively,’ Claire told him, a faint warm colour staining her cheekbones. If the Sheikh had brought her here to offer her another reward, she was going to refuse it. But surely a reward would not necessitate Raoul’s presence or be the cause of the uncertainty and agitation she sensed in the older man?

‘Perhaps, but nevertheless, your first instinct was to protect Saud, and I myself have observed your care of the child. You like children, Miss Miles?’

‘Yes, but…’ Her voice trailed off as her muddled thoughts clarified. Could the Sheikh be going to ask her to act as Saud’s nanny? ‘I could not look after him full-time if that is what you are about to suggest. I have a job already, and then…’ Then there was Teddy, but some inner caution made her say haltingly, ‘I have certain commitments…’

‘To your lover?’ Raoul suggested sardonically. ‘His should be the commitment to you, Miss Miles.’

‘There is a man already in your life?’ The Sheikh looked disturbed.

‘Yes…’

‘But you are not betrothed or married to him. There is no truly firm commitment?’

Her mouth had gone dry. Why hadn’t she simply explained that Teddy was her brother right from the start? How on earth was she going to extricate herself from her own half-truths now? Anger came to her rescue. What business was it of either of these men what her relationship with Teddy was?

‘Miss Miles and her lover are conducting a long-distance affair,’ Raoul supplemented cynically. ‘She was writing to him when I went to collect her.’

‘So… Then it is possible that you would be free to return with us to Omarah?’

‘As Saud’s nanny? I cannot. I am not trained… I…’

‘It is not as Saud’s nanny that my uncle requires your services, Miss Miles,’ Raoul cut in in a hatefully mocking voice, ‘but as his mother.’

‘His mother?’ The room seemed to whirl dizzily in front of her eyes, ‘but… but that is impossible.’

‘Biologically yes, but…’

‘What my nephew is trying to say, Miss Miles, is that in order to protect Saud it might be as well if we allowed those who instigated this morning’s attack to believe it succeeded. No… please hear me out,’ he begged when Claire would have interrupted. ‘No one apart from ourselves and my guards, whose loyalty I know I can depend on, know the truth. Those sent to kill my nephew have themselves been killed, but if we return to Omarah with Saud there will be other attempts on his life, attempts which could easily prove to be successful, and then I fear my country will turn its eyes and heart to Russia. You know already of the divisions in my country.’ He drew a sharp sigh. ‘Had Raoul been the son of my brother rather than the son of my sister, I could have appointed him as my heir…’

‘And that, I believe, is the only thing I can thank my father for,’ Raoul interrupted grimly.

‘I know you have no wish to step into my shoes, Raoul. Raoul is the head of our petrochemical industries,’ the Sheikh told Claire, and something in the look on the former’s face told her that this was no sinecure post, and that Raoul was completely genuine when he said that he had no wish to take his uncle’s place.

‘And thanks to the insistence of my father I am also a Christian,’ Raoul added grittily. He saw Claire’s look of surprise and said cuttingly, ‘Does it surprise you to know that those of my uncle’s faith are so tolerant towards others? The Prophet himself decreed that it must be so.’

Why, when he obviously felt so bitter about his father, and had chosen to ally himself to the Arab blood he carried, had he not changed his religion, Claire wondered, trying to shrug her curiosity aside as the Sheikh shook his head warningly.

‘We digress Raoul. We have not appraised Miss Miles of our… plan. Obviously, if we do allow it to be known that Saud did not survive this morning’s attack, it would be difficult for us to take the child back with us to Omarah. I did think at one time of leaving him in your country where he could be brought up in secret and, I hope, in safety, but…’

‘But if you do that he will grow up a stranger to his own country and its customs. The people would never accept him in your place. He would be more European than Arab.’

‘This is true,’ the Sheikh agreed gravely, ‘which is why, my dear, we are seeking your help. You see, the only way we can take Saud back with us in safety is if we take him as someone else’s child. You can see, I am sure, the dangers attendant on such a course. How could we be sure that the couple we might choose would be trustworthy? And Saud must be brought up as befits his station.’

‘I am honoured that you should have thought of me as a candidate,’ Claire responded truthfully, ‘but surely, even if I agreed, people would think it strange that you should take into your family an unmarried European girl with a child. Surely they would suspect…’

The two men exchanged a look that made her blood turn to ice in her veins, a feeling that she had suddenly strayed on to very unsteady ground sending alarm signals rushing to her brain.

‘I have not entirely explained, Saud would not just be your child, but… but Raoul’s as well. It would be announced that you were married during our visit to your country, and…’

‘Oh, but that couldn’t possibly work,’ Claire expostulated, refusing to dwell for the moment on the multitude of sensations assailing her and clinging only to the bare facts. Later, when she was alone, she would allow herself to think more deeply on the strange sensation stirring in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Raoul as her husband… her lover.

The look he gave her was bitterly sardonic. ‘Well, it won’t,’ she said sharply. ‘Everyone will know that we haven’t been married long enough to have a child, and… and with a European woman… Surely…’

Finding no reassurance in Raoul’s hard, cynical features, she looked wildly at the Sheikh, her heart sinking at what she saw in his calm, dark eyes.

‘We have been into this, and if you are in agreement, our story will be that Saud was the result of an affair between you and Raoul. He spends a considerable amount of time abroad, so that aspect need not cause us any concern. Your child will have been born illegitimately, and I will have coerced Raoul into marriage with you, for the child’s sake.’

The picture he was painting wasn’t a very attractive one and Claire found herself grimacing in distaste. ‘I suspect Miss Miles is thinking the proposition would sound more attractive had I been the one to do the coercing, Uncle,’ Raoul interceded mockingly, ‘but you are not thinking clearly, Miss Miles. No one knowing me would believe that I had willingly married a European woman…’

‘But they will believe that one bore your child?’ Their argument had personal undertones that bewildered Claire. Calm and even-tempered, she had never allowed herself to be so provoked and disturbed by any man. In fact, she had come to think of herself as someone who could not be affected physically by men, and yet this man with merely a look—a word—had inflamed her temper to the point where she could feel her self-control slipping dangerously away.

‘I am a man who spends a considerable amount of time away from my own people,’ Raoul acknowledged, shrugging as though dismissing her accusation as juvenile gaucheness. ‘Naturally, it would not be expected that I should live as a monk. It is also well-known in our country that European women take lovers.’

‘I cannot do it,’ she said positively. ‘I’m sorry, but I…’ She broke off as the door opened and a young girl walked in carrying Saud. She was dressed in the uniform of the hotel staff, the little boy was still flushed and fretful. But he seemed to recognise Claire, perhaps because of her fair hair, which was probably unusual to him, Claire thought, unable to check her own response and he wriggled impatiently in the girl’s hold, stretching out his arms to her.

The girl came over and handed Saud to her, saying something in Arabic that Claire couldn’t understand, before leaving the room.

‘She thinks you are Saud’s mother,’ the Sheikh pointed out quietly. ‘I know it is a great deal to ask of you, but I beg you to reconsider. Saud’s life is at stake… We cannot protect him for every second of it. Another year and we shall have overcome our problems. Then you will be free to go. A year, that is all we ask.’

‘And, of course, you will be well paid,’ Raoul interjected swiftly, mentioning a sum of money that made Claire gasp. It was a fortune, more than enough to put Teddy through school and university and still leave enough for her to buy herself a small house instead of the poky flat she presently rented.

‘But… marriage…’

‘Our marriage will be a mere fiction,’ Raoul assured her contemptuously. ‘Why else do you think my uncle is at such pains to state that it will have been forced upon me? That way neither of us will be expected to play too false a part. We can live our separate lives… I told you you should have offered the money first,’ he said over her head to his uncle.

The contempt and ugly suggestiveness of his tone took Claire’s breath away. She dearly longed to throw his words back in his face, and his money, but at that moment Saud started to cry, and by the time she had soothed him, rocking the small round body against her shoulder, enjoying the warm baby smell of him, she had had time to think. Time to consider all that such a large sum of money could mean for Teddy. No more scrimping and scraping; no more having to do without the treats enjoyed by most of his fellow boarders. She suppressed a small sigh, knowing that she really had no choice. And then there was Saud. Already she was fond of the small child. There had been one attempt on his life, and she had to admit that the Sheikh’s plan was an excellent one.

‘I… I agree.’ The words almost choked in her throat as she saw Raoul’s cynically knowing eyes rest on her flushed cheeks. The Sheikh was thanking her profusely, but Claire barely heard him, she was still too shaken by the look of acute dislike she could see in Raoul’s eyes. And this was the man she would have to live with as his wife for twelve months! It was on the tip of her tongue to take back her words, but before she could speak he forestalled her.

‘I will have the arrangements put in hand. First we will fly to Paris. At the end of the week…’

‘Paris?’

He saw her stunned expression and laughed sarcastically. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I have no intention of extending the farce of our “marriage” to include my French relatives, it is just that as my wife you will be expected to maintain a certain standard of dress and appearance.’ His lips twisted bitterly as they surveyed her slender frame in the tailored tweed suit. ‘While your clothes might be perfectly suitable for your present life-style…’

‘My nephew is quite right,’ the Sheikh interposed sympathetically when he saw her face. ‘He is a very wealthy man, and it would not be fitting…’

‘But surely, if everyone knows you have forced him to marry me, they will not expect…’

‘What they will expect is for you to be dressed as befits my wife, even if I don’t treat you as such.’ He grimaced as he caught her brief flush, and added with infuriating accuracy, ‘Oh come, surely you don’t really suppose that I can’t see what is running through your foolish head now? I will say this once and once only, Miss Miles. Even if you were the type of woman I find physically attractive, which you are not, the fact that you have another lover, and your very evident avarice, would undoubtedly be sufficient to kill any desire I might have for you.’

Claire went red and then white as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving her alone with the Sheikh and Saud in a silence that seemed to thicken with every passing second.

‘Try to forgive him,’ the Sheikh said softly at last. ‘His has not been an easy life. His mother, my sister, was forced to live almost as a servant in her own home when she returned from France. She had married Lucien D’Albro against my father’s wishes, and when they parted…’ He drew a faint sigh. ‘You must understand that it is a matter of family honour when a woman parts from her husband, and my father was of the old school. To make matters worse, a marriage had been arranged for Zenobe. She died when Raoul was very young, but my father remained bitter about his birth to the end. As a child I remember Raoul desperately wanted to be accepted by my father, but he was a man of cruel pride. Raoul of all the family is most like him, and I think my father sensed this. Against his will he loved Raoul best of all his grandchildren. When he died he left him a considerable fortune, but nothing could wipe away the bitter loneliness of those early years. As a child, Raoul was taught to hate and deride his European inheritance. As an adult, he knows that this teaching sprang from my father’s anger against Zenobe and against her husband, but Raoul is a complex character; a man who has suffered and still suffers great pain.’

He saw Claire’s expression and assured her softly, ‘You do not believe me, but I assure you this is so. Why else, now that he is an adult and free to adopt the Muslim religion if he so chooses, does he deny himself this thing that he wanted so desperately as a child? He is a man deeply conscious of the schisms within himself.’

Rather than reassuring her, the Sheikh’s words only made her regret more than ever her folly in agreeing to accept the role of Raoul’s wife. It might only be make-believe, but some deep inner instinct warned her against any sort of intimacy with Raoul, no matter how tenuous. He would hurt her if he could, she could sense it inside him. Saud stirred in her arms, and she glanced down at the olive face.

‘Already he is attached to you,’ the Sheikh said quietly. ‘I should like you to remain here with us until it is time for you to leave for Paris.’

‘I… I shall have to tell my employers.’ And Teddy, she added mentally. She would drive down to his school to tell him—but tell him what? She nibbled her lip, worrying at its soft fullness, as she took Saud through to his own room and set about preparing his food. She knew that there were several Arab children at Teddy’s school. If she told Teddy the truth, he might innocently mention it, and she felt it would be unfair to put the Sheikh’s plans at risk. But what other alternatives did she have? She could hardly not tell her brother anything.

The problem worried at her mind as she prepared Saud for bed. Perhaps she ought to allow Teddy the fiction that she was marrying Raoul. She would say nothing of Saud, of course… And then in twelve months’ time? Marriages broke up all the time… Dear God, what was she doing?

Panic swept over her, pushing aside all her sensible thoughts and decisions. She couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t! She couldn’t put herself in the power—no matter how briefly—of Raoul D’Albro. He would taunt and torment her continually. She had seen it in his eyes when they studied her with contempt and bitterness. But she had to go through with it. She had said she would—and then there was the money.

Her mouth twisted wryly. Oh, she had seen the look in Raoul’s eyes when he mentioned it. He thought she had accepted through greed, but he was wrong—quite wrong. It was for Teddy’s sake, not for her own personal gain. But he thought Teddy was her lover. As her feelings of panic subsided, Claire acknowledged that she was the one responsible for that error. But even if she could correct it, would she? Wasn’t she safer while Raoul thought she was a greedy, avaricious female with at least one established lover?

But safe from what? Even if he knew the truth Raoul would not be interested in her. She wasn’t his type. He had told her that. But the danger didn’t come from him, it came from within herself, Claire acknowledged tiredly. Right from the very first time she had seen him it had been there, although she had fought against admitting it; she had told herself that he was everything she disliked and resented in a man.

And he was, but there was more to it than that; more to her feelings than mere dislike. And yes, if she were honest, she would have to admit to the faint, but unmistakable feelings of nervy excitement that his presence aroused. An excitement which she knew instinctively possessed the seeds of very great danger.