Captive Bride (8 page)

Philip's father had a sorrowful look in his dark-brown eyes, as if he were remembering those long-ago years of happiness. He only nodded, without looking at them, when Philip said they would come again.

Christina felt sorry for Yasir, who had had only five years with the woman he loved, but she had no such feelings for Philip. When they returned to his tent, she faced him with flashing dark-blue eyes.

"I will not give him grandchildren!" she stormed.

"What?" Philip laughed at her. "That's just an old man's dream. I don't expect you to give me any children. That's not why I brought you here."

"Then why did you bring me here?" Christina yelled at him shrilly.

"I have already told you, Tina. You're here for my pleasure. Because I want you," he replied simply.

He reached for her, and Christina moved away swiftly, her anger replaced by fear. "Where can I put these bolts of material?" she asked to distract him.

"I'll see if I can find you a chest next week. For now, you can leave them where they are. Come, let us go to bed," he said, and started to walk into the bedroom.

"It's only just dark, and I'm not tired. Besides, I won't sleep in that bed with you. And you have no right to force me!" She sat down and started to unbraid her hair.

Philip came over to the couch and picked her up in his arms. "I did not say we were going to sleep, my sweet," he chuckled wickedly.

"No!" she cried. "Put me down this instant!"

Philip smiled down at her as he carried her into the bedroom and threw her on the bed. "I told you you'd give me pleasure. Take off your clothes, Tina."

"I will do no such thing," Christina retorted indignantly.

She started to get off the bed, but it was a futile gesture, because Philip swiftly pulled her over to the middle of the bed and straddled her hips with his knees. He pulled the blouse over her head, pinning her arms with one hand, though she fought him with all her strength. He untied her skirt and rolled her over to pull it off.

"You can't do this. I won't stand for it!" she cried, trying desperately to push him away.

He laughed heartily. "When will you learn, my little one, that I'm master here? What I wish to do—I do."

Looking into her dark-blue eyes, Philip could see her fear, but he would not stop.

"Damn it, Tina. I gave you my word I wouldn't rape you, but I made no promise that I wouldn't kiss you or touch your body. Now be still!" he said harshly. He brought his lips forcefully down on hers.

Philip kissed her long and brutally. Christina felt so strange. Did she actually enjoy his kisses? Her breasts, her belly, her whole body tingled and felt tautly alive.

Philip released her and stood up beside the bed. He caressed her body with dark-green eyes as he removed his clothing piece by piece and threw it aside. Christina's eyes widened when she saw his naked desire. Fear gripped her, and she jumped from the bed, trying one last time to escape. But Philip grabbed her long braid as she ran, and pulled her forceably into his arms.

"You have nothing to fear from me, Tina," he said, pushing her down onto the bed.

He moved his lips over her face and down her neck, but when they nibbled at her breasts, she began to fight him again. He caught her arms and pulled them firmly above her head with one hand.

"Don't fight me, Tina. Relax and enjoy what I can do for you," he whispered deeply.

While Philip continued to kiss her peaking breasts, he rested his free hand on her upper thigh. When he moved his hand upward to the golden triangle of hair below her navel, Christina moaned and begged Philip to stop.

"I have only just started, Tina," he murmured, and pushed his knee between her legs to open them.

Christina felt on fire as Philip stroked her delicately between her legs. He covered her mouth with his as she began to moan softly. She didn't want him to stop now. She wanted to know the end of this strange tingling feeling inside her.

Philip released her hands and rolled on top of her. He held her head between his huge hands and kissed her hungrily. She could feel his hardness between her legs, but she didn't care anymore. Her mind cried out for him to stop, but her body demanded that he go on. Christina knew then that Philip was right. She hated her body for betraying her, but she wanted him.

She felt him start to enter her slowly. But he stopped and looked into her eyes.

"I want you, Tina. You are mine, and I want to make love to you. Do you want me to stop now? Do you want me to let you go?" He was smiling down at her, knowing that he had won. "Tell me, Tina, tell me not to stop."

She hated him, but he couldn't leave her now. She circled her arms around his neck. "Don't stop," she whispered breathlessly.

She felt a searing pain as he pushed deep into her. His lips muffled her scream as she raked her nails down his back.

"I'm sorry, Tina, that had to happen. It will never hurt again—I promise." He started to move slowly inside her.

He was right. It didn't hurt anymore. Her pleasure rose as Philip quickened his pace. Christina abandoned herself to him completely as she met each thrust. He took her higher and higher until her eyes flew open and she became one with him.

Philip showed her pleasure that she never knew existed. But now that she lay exhausted beneath him, she hated him all the more. She cursed herself for her newfound weakness. She said she would never give in to him, but she had, and she could not forgive herself.

Christina opened her eyes to find Philip staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I will never give you up, Tina. You will always be mine," he murmured softly. Then he rolled off her, but pulled her to him until her head rested on his shoulder. "And I give you warning. If you ever try to run away from me again, I will find you and whip the hide off your lovely back. I give you my word."

Christina remained silent. Soon she could hear his deep, even breathing and knew that Philip was asleep. She edged herself away from him and slipped off the bed.

Picking up Philip's robe, Christina put it on and left the tent. The fire in the middle of the camp burned brightly and cast dancing shadows that mocked her everywhere she looked, but she could see no one about. She walked carefully in the direction Philip had taken her that morning until she came to the little clearing. She dropped his robe and walked into the warm water.

She had made it this far without being seen. She thought briefly of stealing one of the horses in the corral and escaping while Philip slept. But her luck was no longer with her, and she was sure someone would hear her leave. She wasn't anxious to learn if Philip would keep his word and whip her. So Christina put the thought from her mind and let the warm water take the smell of him from her body.

Chapter

T

HE sun was just clearing the mountains, taking away the sharp chill of the night past, when Philip awoke from a pleasant sleep. He looked to see if his captive still lay beside him. He frowned when he saw Christina lying on the far side of the bed and wearing his robe. He would have to speak to her, for he would allow no clothes between them in bed.

Remembering his victory of the night before, Philip smiled and played with the loose ends of Christina's braid. He noticed the deep red stain of blood on the sheet and felt the scratches on his back.

What a woman he had found! She had abandoned herself completely to him last night after admitting defeat. She had matched his own wild passion. Perhaps he should make her his wife to make sure she would never leave him. But she had refused him once, and there was no way he could force her to marry him.

Getting out of bed, Philip opened the chest that contained his clothes and donned a pair of light-tan trousers and a white, long-sleeved tunic. He left the tent and, seeing Amine by the fire, asked her to bring in the morning meal. Philip checked on his horse, Victory, and on two recently captured horses in the corral. He enjoyed working with horses, and breaking in the new ones would give him something to do besides raiding the passing caravans.

Philip remembered the incredulous look on the fat old merchant's face during yesterday's raid when he had asked if there were any books in the caravan. Philip had taken only the things he wanted for Christina, and had ordered bis men to take only foodstuffs and other necessities.

Philip had no need of the riches that could be accumulated by raiding caravans, for he had all the wealth he could ever need in England. His mother left him a very rich estate, and a title as well.

His half-brother Rashid took everything when he raided, and didn't care very much if anyone died in the process. Rashid was a hard and bitter man. Philip was glad he had not been in camp since his return.

Giving Victory a last rub on his velvety gray nose, Philip went back to the tent. He found Christina sitting on the couch eating breakfast. She had removed his robe and had on the skirt and blouse she had worn yesterday. As he approached, she shot him a look of hatred that would have frozen any other man.

"I was hoping that your disposition might have improved after last night, but I can see it hasn't," Philip remarked casually.

"And I was hoping that you'd have the decency not to mention last night. But you throw it in my face, like the cad you are! I promise I'll never let it happen again!"

Philip grinned wickedly as he calmly sat down beside her. "Don't make promises you won't be able to keep, Tina."

Christina swung viciously at his leering face, but he swiftly grabbed her wrist.

"This is hardly the time for a quarrel, my sweet. I suggest you put your energy to a better use and finish your meal. Afterward, I'll take you to bathe."

"No, thank you. I bathed last night," she said haughtily.

Philip's eyes narrowed dangerously. Christina winced when he seized her shoulders and turned her to face him.

"So that's why you were wearing my robe this morning!" he stormed, shaking her violently. "You little idiot! Do you think we're the only tribe in these hills? There are at least a dozen others, and we share our water and our bathing hole with Yamaid Alhabbal. His tribe doesn't speak English as mine does. Do you know where you'd be this morning, had one of his tribesmen discovered you? You'd be at a slave auction—bringing a healthy price. After Yamaid Alhabbal and all his men had sampled your charms, that is."

Philip pushed her away and stood before her, his eyes cold and unrelenting. "Never will you leave this camp unescorted again. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," she whispered meekly.

Seeing how frightened she looked, Philip calmed down. "I'm sorry, Tina. It's just that if you were sold, I probably wouldn't be able to find you. The fat old buzzard who could pay the most for you would hide you away for fear of losing you. I wouldn't want that to happen any more than you would."

"I'll be sure to heed your warning and be more careful in the future," Christina replied, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her skirt. "If you'll excuse me now, I have some sewing that needs to be done."

She picked up a bolt of material and disappeared into the bedroom. Philip shook his head. She certainly could compose herself quickly, he thought: frightened dismay to cool disdain.

After he had eaten his fill, Philip sauntered over to the bedroom and pulled back the heavy curtains. "By the way, my sweet, don't waste your time making nightdresses to sleep in, for you'll have no use for them here."

Philip ducked as a pillow came flying at him. He laughed deeply as he turned and left the tent. He would start breaking the wild horses today: they might prove more tamable than Christina!

That evening after dinner, Philip reclined on the couch lazily watching Christina. She sat across from him sewing on a piece of light-green material and ignoring him completely. Her neglect irritated him, but he decided not to give her the satisfaction of knowing it.

Closing his eyes, Philip let his mind wander. He'd spent the latter part of the afternoon with his father telling Yasir abut Paul and his new wife. Although his father hadn't seen Paul for many years, he was still close to his heart. Philip hoped Paul would come at least once to visit his father. The old man didn't have much time left People died before their time in this land.

When Yasir had decided to move his tribe into the foothills, Philip had been delighted. He had never liked the nomadic desert life, constantly roaming from one oasis to the next. The tribe had lived in the hills for eight years now. Philip might not have stayed so long with his father if they had not moved permanently to these hills. The climate was considerably cooler. There was enough water even for regular bathing. And their camp was situated so they could hold off an attack if necessary.

Philip didn't know if he would stay in Egypt after his father died. But now that he had Christina, he'd probably decide to stay. He couldn't take her back to England, because she'd be able to escape him there.

Stretching languidly, Philip opened his eyes to find Christina dozing on the couch. He arose and quietly walked around the table to stand above her. His eyes caressed her unbraided hair; its glowing mass covered the pillow and rippled to the floor behind her. She was curled in a ball like a little girl dreaming innocently. She hardly seemed the sensuous woman of the night before.

Philip bent to scoop Christina into his arms. But she jumped up and scurried to the other end of the tent. She turned to see if he were pursuing her.

"So—you were only feigning sleep." He straightened, giving her an amused glance. "It's rather late for games, my pet."

"I can assure you, I do not play games," she retorted stiffly, pushing back the hair that had fallen all around her.

"I was only going to carry you to bed. But now that you're awake—I can think of better things to do," Philip teased as he slowly came toward her.

"No!" she snapped, backing away from him. "And I won't sleep in that bed with you. It's indecent! I'd rather sleep on the floor!"

He chuckled softly as he cornered Christina at the end of the tent.