Page 3 of Desert Barbarian

The yellow candle beam rested once more on her face. 'You are the only thing of beauty here,' he said softly. 'You are very desirable, Miss Brinton. I would get a high price for that golden hair of yours, that smooth, un­blemished white skin and those blue eyes. They admire that colouring here. Your life in the harem would not be hard; it would be as filled with luxury, as idle and spoilt, as your life has always been. You would merely exchange one indulgent owner for another. The only difference would be that you would learn other arts, more sensuous and infinitely more enjoyable than those of the sports field which you have pursued until now.'

Marie swallowed, digging her nails into her palms, her eyes fixed bravely on his lean face. 'You… you wouldn't dare…'

He laughed at that, a look of reckless gaiety lighting his face and making him younger and even more devastatingly attractive. 'If you knew me better, Miss Brin­ton, you would not fling out challenges in that light-hearted fashion. Has no one ever told you that the Arabs love a challenge?'

'My father will pay your ransom, anyway,' she said shakily. 'You wouldn't get more… any other way…'

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'I wonder…'

'He will,' she insisted.

He inspected every inch of her again, from her bare shoulders, along the close-clinging silk of the white gown. 'Yes,' he murmured, 'I think he would.'

She felt sick relief in the pit of her stomach. 'M-may I have some water? I'm so thirsty…'

For a moment he did not move, his eyes lingering on her face. She looked at him nervously through her lashes. 'Please… water…'

He moved away to the cupboard. She watched his dark shadow stalk across the wall, the hawk-like profile sharply black against the yellow light. He found a glass and a jug of water, came back towards her, poured water into the glass and handed it to her. Their fingers touched briefly in the exchange, and Marie felt herself shiver. She sat up and sipped, then slowly rose as if to give him back the glass. As he bent to take it from her, she flung the rest of the water into his face.

He swore under his breath, his hands going to his eyes, blinded by the cold sting of the water.

While he was preoccupied she darted to the door behind him, wrenched it open and stumbled out into a dark alley. She ran, holding up her long skirts, doubled round a corner and stopped dead, finding herself in one of the crowded bazaar streets, lit by smoking flares beside stalls and noisy with the calls of the stallholders as they tried to attract attention.

Her appearance immediately attracted notice. Within seconds she was surrounded by a crowd of excited Arabs, all shouting at her, some of them touching her silk gown or the gleaming whiteness of her bare arms with grimy fingers, exclaiming over her, while others babbled at her in pidgin English, trying to sell her souvenirs or offering to guide her back to her hotel.

She was terrified, trembling, completely hemmed in and unable to escape. 'Please,' she asked, turning to one of the older men in appeal, 'will you take me to the Marina Hotel?'

'Yes, lady, yes,' he said eagerly, beginning to quote a price to her.

But then a voice spoke behind them all, in fierce hard Arabic, and the men fell back in silence, backing away from her.

With a feeling of dream-like inescapability Marie saw the white headdress, the gold cord, the hawk-like face. He grasped her by the elbow and shook her, barking angrily at her. 'Silly little fool!' Then he spoke again in Arabic, his face glaring down at her. The crowd, watch­ing from a distance, their faces curious, began to laugh. One of them shouted something to him, and the others roared in wild amusement. Marie looked round, bewild­ered and frightened.

The hard arms lifted her again, threw her over his shoulder like a sack of coals, and while she lay helpless in this undignified posture, she was enraged and humiliated to feel a hard slap across her bottom. Kicking and struggling, she seethed as he strode back into the darkness of the alleys while the other men cackled with delighted laughter behind them.

A moment later he carefully locked the door and then flung her back upon her cushions.

'You… you bastard!' she seethed. 'You enjoyed that!'

He grinned, showing those hard white teeth. 'Yes,' he agreed shamelessly. 'And you deserved it.'

'What did you say to them?' She was sore where he had hit her, and rubbed herself self-pityingly, although it had been her pride which had been most hurt. There had been something so humiliating about the way he flung her lightly over his shoulder and slapped her. She had felt suddenly like a naughty child, a toy in the powerful hands of this dark-visaged stranger. At that moment the full realisation of her helplessness had come home to her.

'I told them you were my woman who had run away from me. They advised me to beat you and then make violent love to you. They assured me such treatment would be certain to make you more malleable in future.' He gave her a taunting glance. 'I've followed one half of the advice. Perhaps I should now follow the other?'

'If you touch me, I'll scream,' she muttered in impotent rage.

He laughed. 'Empty threats, Miss Brinton.' He knelt down beside her, his eyes holding hers, and a wave of weakness swept over her. He had a magnetic strength, a primitive personal magnetism, which made her suddenly deeply aware of her own weak femininity, and his physi­cal power. What if he did make love to her? What could she do?

'How long are you going to keep me here?' she asked, again trying to distract him. 'When news of my dis­appearance gets out, some of those men in the bazaar will put two and two together. There'll be a reward, no doubt. They will inform the police and this district will be thoroughly searched.'

'By then we will be safely miles from here in the heart of the desert,' he said coolly.

Her heart sank. 'In the desert?'

He gave her a mocking smile. 'I thought you longed to see the desert. Aren't you eager to ride across the empty san

ds with me, lie beneath the stars, wrapped in my burnous, with only the wind for company? I will show you the great wastes of sand and sky, teach you to appreciate the beauty of the emptiness…'

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