Egyptian Honeymoon (12 page)

Omar smiled, his white even teeth splitting his brown face which seemed darker against his robes.

'Not quite. This is Arab dress, not Egyptian. Their costume was a little too scanty for entertaining a lady like yourself. Now let us dine.'

They were served Eastern food, fish soup followed by roasted lamb and rice, kebabs, and couscous, the staple food of the Bedouin, which was a preparation of semolina, finally a sweet comprised of honey and nuts. They drank glasses of mint tea, which Omar prepared for them himself. Soft-footed servants in djellabas and turbans waited on them. When these had removed the debris of the feast, they sat replete listening to native musicians out in the courtyard, playing on reed pipes. Their host produced Turkish cigarettes and cigars, and' Noelle, who was not a smoker, tried one of the gold-banded oval Turks, which was much too strong and made her cough.

At length Colonel Bates roused himself and said:

'You've entertained us royally, my boy, but it's time we went back to the ship. It must be very late.'

'As you wish. The bathroom is through the door, on your left. You will find modern plumbing.'

Both the Colonel and his wife availed themselves of this invitation, and Omar turned to Noelle.

'I will send them back with the chauffeur, but you, my heart's delight, will stay, will you not? This shall be a night to remember.'

He stood close beside her, and he smelt of musk and sandalwood; his dark eyes were swimming and his low voice shook with passion.

Noelle felt an unwilling response. Her sexuality, which had started to awaken under Steve's guidance, was stirred by his proximity, his handsome presence and his obvious desire. This evening, with its voluptuous setting, had been planned to bring about her seduction. Unconsciously she swayed towards him, and he laid a burning hand on her bare arm.

'Allah be praised! You will give yourself at last!'

The invocation of an unfamiliar god broke the spell and restored her to sanity. Gently she removed his hand.

'Omar, I'm sorry, I can't. I have a husband.'

'Who prefers another woman. He is with her now.'

Noelle was very much afraid he was.

'I know, but all the same, I'm married to him and I… I love him.'

There, it was out, and with the words the last of her uncertainty died. All unawares Steve had stolen her heart, and the memory of Hugh no longer stood between them. Not that he had done anything to win her love—or was she being unfair? He had spared her on their wedding night, when he had perceived her fear, and he had brought her to Egypt because he had been told it was her wish. The fault for their estrangement lay with her, but now she was sure of her own feelings, there must be a way to win him back. Absorbed in the realisation of her newborn love, she had forgotten the man beside her, until Omar touched her shoulder. She started out of her dream and said again:

'I'm so sorry. I'm afraid you've taken all this trouble for nothing.'

'But you are here,' he told her softly. 'I will not let you go.'

Noelle looked at him uncertainly.

'You can't keep me here against my will.'

'Can I not? Oh, Noelle, you are teasing me, as women do—you want to stay, and it will be quite easy. The servants will conduct your friends to the car, they will say that you will follow, but I am showing you my friend's collection of scarabs.' (A variation on etchings, she thought drily.) 'The old one is a man of the world, he will understand why you came. You will stay?'

A part of her did want to surrender, for it was sweet and flattering to be desired, with Hugh gone and Steve indifferent, but she could not betray her love.

'It's impossible,' she said firmly. 'The Bates will tell Steve where I am; he'll be angry.'

'If he asks, but I do not think that one will return tonight.'

So he had overheard Marcia's words, and shared her suspicions. Noelle thought of the empty cabin next her own, the locked door, and her eyes met Omar's eager gaze. Here was someone who did want her.

There was a sudden commotion outside, and a servant rushed in and threw himself at Omar's feet.

'Pardon,
effendi
, pardon, I could not keep him out.'

Omar looked furious, he kicked the man's prostrate body.

'Son of a bitch, camel's dung!' He relapsed into angry Arabic, while the unfortunate man cringed before him. Noelle looked towards the door, thinking now was her chance to escape, and saw Steve standing on the threshold. With a glad cry she ran towards him, but he pushed her aside.

'A most edifying scene,' he drawled, 'but I gather I'm not too late.'

'How in Shaitan's name did you get here?' Omar snarled.

'In a car, of course. One of the crew saw you go off with my wife, and everyone in Luxor knows of your connection with the owner of this house. When I found you weren't at the hotel, I guessed you'd brought her here.'

'The Bates came with me,' Noelle told him defensively.

'Indeed? But I don't see them here. You and this… this scum were enjoying a tête-à-tête, a prelude to the bedroom act, I assume.'

'They
are
here,' Noelle cried desperately, hoping they had not gone, and then to her relief the Colonel appeared in the doorway behind Steve.

'Extraordinary thing, Mrs Prescott,' he began, as Steve stood aside to allow him to enter. 'The butler, major-domo, whatever he is, was trying to shoo us away without you.'

His faded blue eyes blinked at Noelle anxiously. As Omar said, he was sophisticated enough to suspect that Omar's lavish hospitality had an ulterior motive, but he couldn't believe she had encouraged him, she wasn't that sort. 'But I understand now,' he went on with obvious relief. 'The fellow didn't explain that you were waiting for your husband to collect you.'

There was an uneasy pause, and Noelle moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Steve and Omar were eyeing each other like matadors watching a bull, each waiting for the other's next move. To her horror she saw Omar's hand move towards the dagger he wore in his belt, a pretty ornament, but deadly for all that. She braced herself
to
spring between them—better she was stabbed than Steve, who was here as a result of her folly, for she had known subconsciously all along that some sinister motive lay behind the Arab's lavish hospitality.

Then Mary Bates came into the room, bringing with her a breath of normality, she was such an ordinary sane figure in her slightly shabby black lace with her air of respectability.

She went up to Omar with her hand outstretched, saying:

'Thank you, thank you a hundred times, Mr ben Ahmed, for a truly wonderful evening. It's something I'll never forget. You've been too kind. Harry, I'm told the car is waiting, and I suppose Noelle is going back with her husband.'

'She is,' Steve said grimly.

Her gentle gush had broken the tension. Omar touched her fingertips and smiled wryly.

'My pleasure, dear lady.' He threw Noelle an enigmatical look and shrugged his shoulders. '
Insh'allah
,' he added resignedly, accepting with oriental fatalism the failure of his hopes.

The Colonel, looking a little stern, tendered his thanks, but Steve, taking hold of Noelle's arm, hauled her out of the room without giving her a chance to speak. He pushed her without ceremony into the back of the hired car and got in beside her.

'Back to the
Serapis
,' he ordered the chauffeur, and relapsed into ominous silence.

Noelle said nervously: 'It was so dull on the ship, and I thought it would be all right to accept his invitation as he asked the Bates too.'

'Whom he was about to dispose of.'

'But I wouldn't have stayed on alone.'

'Wouldn't you?'

'No.'

Silence again. She knew he didn't believe her.

'Anyway, you were with Marcia,' she flung at him.

'I was not.'

'She told her friends she was expecting you.'

'Marcia's expectations aren't always fulfilled.'

There was such a wealth of meaning in his voice, that Noelle was impressed. Had she been leaping to conclusions and Steve had not been sleeping with the amorous redhead? He had told her he had not been with her tonight, and certainly he had returned much earlier than she had expected. She felt a lift of her spirits, perhaps Marcia was not the threat she had feared, but they sank again as she remembered what Steve had said about masculine deceit. He would not scruple to lie about Marcia if it suited him.

They reached the ship, and throwing some money to the chauffeur, he followed her on board. On the second deck, she paused. This was where the Bates' cabin was situated.

'They may have got back first, and I'd like to say goodnight to them.'

'Don't try to procrastinate,' he told her sternly. 'You've made enough use of them for one night. Go on up to your cabin. I'm going to punish you for your disgraceful behaviour.'

'But I haven't done anything…'

'No, because I arrived in time.' With a hand on her back he pushed her up the last flight of stairs. 'You've been hankering after that louse ever since we came aboard. The moment my back is turned you rush to him.'

Noelle stumbled on to their own deck, and turned to face him as they reached her cabin door. Was he going to beat her… or what?

'He was kind, and you neglected me,' she said reproachfully.

'By your own wish, but you're not going to be neglected tonight. You may call me a brute and a monster, but I've indulged you too long. You're my wife, and you're going to know it!'

He seemed to fill her little cabin, and she shrank back against the wall in terror. How had she ever imagined she could love this cruel beast? For he was not going to take her because he loved her, or even desired her, but to punish her for supposed unfaithfulness. Unjust, unfair—she had rejected Omar for his sake and he wouldn't even listen to her. He was consumed with icy rage.

He went on: 'I haven't kept my hands off you so you can play games with the first man who takes your fancy, you with your touch-me-not airs and your pretended devotion to a dead man's memory. You're a hypocrite and a cheat! I should have known a mannequin is little better than a tart. You'll do your duty tonight, though it kills you. Get your clothes off.'

He threw off his jacket, and unfastened his shirt. Noelle did not move, and naked except for his underpants, Steve came to her, stripping her pretty nylon dress from her shoulders, tearing it beyond repair. Slip and bra followed it, and seizing her round the waist, he flung her down upon the narrow bed.

'Come, my love,' he mocked her. 'Show me some of the pretty tricks your couture lover taught you. If you can tolerate Omar's caresses, you can't be as cold as you pretended to be.'

Noelle stared up at him with agonised eyes.

'Steve, please listen! This could be so different if only you…'

'Shut up!'

He came down on her then, not caring how much he hurt her, not troubling to seek to arouse her with any love-play. She was stifled, crushed… there was pain. Steve gave a startled exclamation, but he had, gone too far to draw back. Her mind blacked out as she was submerged in a flood of burning sensation.

She became aware that she was alone, there was a sound of running water, and the door between their cabins was ajar. Steve came back into hers wearing a towelling robe. She turned on her side away from him, drawing up her knees, trying to conceal her body in her streaming hair.

'No,' she whispered faintly, for she could endure no more.

He stared down at her white figure which looked as fragile as a broken flower.

'God forgive me,' he said huskily. 'I'd no idea you were still a virgin.'

'But… didn't you expect…?' Her voice was a mere thread.

'No. You'd been a model, and virgins are rare anyway, nowadays. Then there was that fellow… wasn't he your lover?'

She shook her head. 'We… waited…'

'I must have hurt you.'

'You were brutal.'

He seemed at a loss to know what to say; contrition was not his strong point. Noelle raised herself and slid off the bed.

'I want a shower.'

She stood a long time under the spray, the warm water cleansing and reviving her. She noticed dark marks on her white skin. She bruised all too easily, but her mind was numb, and all she desired now was to sleep. Finally wrapping herself in a towel, she went back into the cabin.

Her bed had been remade with clean linen, and the door into Steve's was still ajar. Vaguely she wondered how he had found service so late at night. She sank down on the bed and closed her eyes. Then she opened them in alarm. Steve was standing over her.

'I'm not going to touch you,' he said gently, 'but why, oh, why did you encourage that swine? You're not so innocent you didn't know what he was after.'

Because of you and Marcia—but she did not say it. Instead she gave a long sigh and closed her eyes again. Steve drew up the sheet and covered her.

'Tomorrow,' he told her, 'we're flying back to London.'

Her eyes half opened, a line of blue between white lids.

'Oh, why?'

'Business. I must return, my presence is needed. I'm sorry to break off our… er… holiday, but it's not been a great success, has it?'

Noelle did not answer that, instead she murmured vaguely:

'Then we shan't see the Valley of the Kings.'

Steve hesitated. He had meant to cancel that expedition, but if she really wanted to go, he felt he owed her some reparation for his violence.

'The flight isn't until the evening, we'd have time for that.'

She was indifferent whether they went or not, but she didn't want to spend the day on the ship, Marcia and Omar might still be there. She said faintly:

'That would be nice.'

Steve stood looking down at her with a worried frown. Then to her astonishment, he stooped and tenderly kissed her brow.

'Goodnight, my love,' he said gently.

Then he had gone, and she thought she must have been already asleep and dreamed it. Voice and gesture were so unlike him. But he left the door between their cabins standing open.