Master of the Desert (12 page)

A
NTONIA
dismounted and led the pony into the cobbled courtyard. It was impossible to know what to expect once she went beyond the outer the walls of the old fortress, and she didn’t want to risk the horse stumbling. She felt sick and weak with disappointment—although pregnancy might have had something to do with it, Antonia conceded worriedly, unscrewing the stopper on her flask.

As she drained the cooling water she was conscious of Ra’id watching her. Had he guessed? Did he know that she was pregnant? She really couldn’t find the energy to fight him now; all her earlier defiance had drained away. It was one thing taking on a major building-project in the desert when she only had herself to worry about, but the baby meant more to her than anything else, and she hadn’t realised just how hostile and isolated an environment this was.

She was defeated before she even got started. She wanted to go home. The old fort was a dreadful place; no one could possibly live here. No wonder Helena had been miserable. It must have been nothing short of torment for a young girl to be shut away in the desert.

Lashing her horse’s reins to a rail, Antonia sank down on a hard stone mounting-block and put her head in her hands.

‘Are you all right?’

She lifted her head. Ra’id sounded genuinely concerned.

‘This isn’t too much for you, is it?’ he said.

‘No, I’m fine,’ she said stubbornly. ‘But, unlike you, I’m not used to the heat.’

‘It’s much cooler inside the walls.’

As he spoke, Ra’id was unwinding the folds of his headgear, slowly revealing his brutally handsome face. How could she have forgotten how the sight of him affected her? Antonia wondered, holding on to her composure by the slimmest of threads. ‘Yes, it is,’ she agreed, as if her heart wasn’t pumping furiously at the sight of Ra’id so close, so hot, so masculine. ‘In fact,’ she added, determinedly, ‘If there was only water on tap, this castle would be ideal for my purposes.’

‘Then it’s a pity you don’t have water on tap,’ Ra’id observed smoothly, reminding her never to be off her guard where he was concerned. ‘Shall we?’ he invited, gesturing towards the entrance to the living quarters in the old keep.

She was determined this would not be an emotional re-run of her visit to her mother’s forgotten room, though she was deeply conscious of walking in her mother’s footsteps as Ra’id led the way up the stone staircase to the main building.

This had to be the strangest experience she’d ever had, Antonia concluded. She was bursting with emotion at the thought of finally visiting the place where her mother had been exiled; finding out about her mother’s past was something she had waited her whole life to see and understand. And here she was at last with the father of her child walking
beside her. It should have been perfect. But this was the same man who wanted nothing more than to be rid of her. Where Ra’id was concerned she had a blind spot, Antonia admitted. She could never stop looking for a sign that he still felt something for her.
Keep looking
, she thought as they began the tour of dilapidated rooms.

How terrified Helena must have felt when she had arrived here a virtual prisoner, Antonia mused, discarded and exiled to the desert where she could cause no embarrassment to the ruling sheikh, parted from her child—could anything be more dreadful? And never knowing if she would ever see her little boy again. How must Helena have felt as she walked beneath this same cold, stone arch into an austere and forbidding citadel? A gift of land would hardly heal those wounds.

A glance at Ra’id made Antonia tremble inwardly. When Ra’id discovered she was pregnant, would he show her any more mercy than his father had shown her mother? The al Maktabis were warrior sheikhs, and Ra’id al Maktabi was the fiercest of them all. He thought the gift of this fortress and the land surrounding it had been a generous pay-off to her mother, but Antonia knew there were more important things than money and land. In her opinion there was nothing that could compensate for the crushing of a human spirit.

So what would she do if she were stranded here?

It was at that point, the same moment as they entered the dark and dismal building, that Antonia’s empathy with her mother’s situation began to waver, and she had to remind herself that Helena hadn’t been as fortunate as Antonia, who had such strong support from a brother who
adored her. It was easy to be strong when you had people behind you to give you confidence, Antonia reflected, knowing how lucky she was. And with that strength she would take a fresh look at the citadel, seeing the positive this time rather than the drawbacks. For instance, the small windows meant that the fortress would be cool by day, and she would make it even cooler by installing air-conditioning. The extensive terracing could be enjoyed in the cooler months, as well as at dawn and dusk, and if she took on the project she could even make it a practical memorial to her mother.

Would she take it on?

That all depended on Ra’id. Without his water, there was no project. She had to try the one thing that might touch him where she had failed. ‘You’ve seen the photographs.’

Drawing to an abrupt halt in a shadowy rubbish-strewn hallway, Ra’id interrupted her. ‘Photographs?’

‘The photographs of the children our charity helps,’ she said quietly. ‘You saw the album during my presentation.’

‘You can’t seriously be thinking of bringing those children here?’

‘Why not?’

‘Do you want a list? And why would you even think of it when I have more palaces than I know what to do with going begging in the capital?’

‘Because I want to do something, maybe? Because I don’t want or need your handouts, Ra’id?’ When his eyes narrowed with suspicion, her passion for the project overflowed. ‘If you didn’t expect me to make use of the fortress, why did you bring me here, Ra’id? Was it to teach me a lesson? Or to show me how inhospitable the place is so I
will relinquish my claim on the land?’ She found it impossible to keep the heat out of her voice.

‘I thought you should see for yourself that your mother’s legacy is nothing more than a meaningless sheet of paper—and if you weren’t prepared to listen to me, then bringing you here was the only way I could make you see the truth.’

‘The truth as
you
see it,’ she returned hotly. ‘You don’t know me at all, Ra’id—though I can see how it would suit you to bring me here.’

‘Suit me?’

‘Yes.’ She steadied herself by concentrating her thoughts on all those people who depended on her making a success of this visit. ‘I think you pictured me taking a tearful look around before dejectedly mounting my pony and riding out of your life for good. Well, guess what, Ra’id? I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay right here.’

‘And if you’re deported a second time?’

Antonia firmed her jaw. ‘If you do that, I’ll shame you before the world.’

‘You’d blackmail me?’ Ra’id demanded incredulously.

‘I’ll do whatever it takes to see this project through.’

Now she knew she’d gone too far. She was alone with the Sword of Vengeance in the middle of the desert, where anyone could disappear without a trace…

‘I suggest you consider very carefully what you say next,’ Ra’id warned her in a voice that was all the more menacing for being low and calm.

Antonia held her ground, though she was trembling inside. Ra’id had to know she was no pushover, and that she would stand up to him, in this and in all the discussions to come—or else how could she speak up for her child?

There it was—the most important secret of all, glittering between them like the Grail. She could see Ra’id some time in the future, holding their baby, before handing the child back to her.

Was that wishful thinking?

The thought that it might be frightened her more than anything else. Surely they could come to a civilised arrangement where their baby was concerned? But was civilised even possible with Ra’id? This visit to the citadel where her mother had been incarcerated was bound to stir violent emotion in her, Antonia reasoned. But now she must control her feelings, concentrate on finding a way to touch Ra’id and convince him that her plan for the fortress would work if he would only agree to giving her the water she needed. If he agreed to do that, she could build the retreat for the charity, as well as a home and a purpose for herself and for her child.

‘I understand why you think the worst of me.’

He looked at her with suspicion, wondering what this new, conciliatory tone heralded.

‘But since the pirate attack,’ she continued earnestly, ‘my priorities have changed.’

His suspicions, already roused, grew. ‘That’s old news, Antonia. What’s really on your mind?’ He knew the answer to that question the moment Antonia’s hands flashed across her stomach to protect it.
Antonia was pregnant?
‘Are you pregnant?’ he asked her quietly.

‘And what if I am?’ she said defensively.

‘Are you pregnant with my baby?’

‘Do you really think there’s any doubt?’

‘How do I know?’ Antonia’s continued defiance in the
face of such momentous news drove him to explode. ‘For all I know, you’re like your mother in that respect too.’

If he’d thought the girl on his yacht a virago, this girl was a demon possessed. She launched herself at him. He captured her, holding her firmly in front of him. ‘Think of the baby—if you can!’ He was instantly aware of how it felt to hold Antonia, and was immediately remorseful for taking out his shock on the mother of his child. He let her go and stood back as she cried, ‘There have been no other men, Ra’id—how could there be?’

This impassioned outburst revealed more than she wanted to say. ‘Enough,’ he told her softly. ‘Do you want to upset yourself and the baby?’

‘Upset?’
Hugging herself, she turned away. ‘Do you care about me now?’ she demanded with disbelief.

If only she knew. He’d always known that one day he would face this dilemma: love or duty. But to him, with his father’s history to draw on, there was no choice to be made. ‘Of course I care about the child you carry. I have seen more grief than I care to think about brought down on a child thanks to the selfishness of its parents.’

‘Don’t tar me with that brush, Ra’id,’ she warned him.

But as she confronted Ra’id Antonia knew that this was not one of her wild, romantic fantasies but a very dangerous situation. She had brought her unborn child into a desert kingdom where that child’s father reigned supreme, and where its mother had no voice, no rights. She doubted Ra’id would let her go now he knew she was carrying his royal baby. What irony, Antonia thought as she stared up at the citadel’s forbidding walls. She really was following in her mother’s footsteps now. Would Ra’id make her a
prisoner here like her mother before her? The loss of her freedom was a nightmare beyond imagining, and the very last thing she wanted for her child—but would Ra’id, a man driven so relentlessly by duty, respect that?

Ra’id would always do what was right, she concluded, but it didn’t reassure her to know that he had accomplished many good things in Sinnebar without once involving his feelings. Plus, he had lashed out verbally at both their parents, whom Ra’id considered had failed his stringent test. With all his wealth and privilege, would Ra’id be so very different when it came to bringing up a child? For him, duty always came first. The only certainty, Antonia decided, was that she would never agree to be parted from her child, and neither duty nor self-interest would change that.

‘You’re going to live here?’ The effects of pregnancy were more telling than he had realised, Ra’id concluded as Antonia stated her intention. ‘Firstly, the place isn’t habitable, and secondly, you would need my permission.’

‘I can’t do this without your help, Ra’id.’

‘I’m well aware of that. But first I would have to agree to you remaining in the country.’

‘Don’t you want to keep your child in Sinnebar?’ It was a passionate outburst in a last-ditch attempt to touch him. It was also the biggest risk she had ever taken in her life.

‘I have a country to consider.’
And now a pregnant mistress
, Ra’id acknowledged tensely.

‘And I would be superfluous to your plans?’ Antonia suggested with biting accuracy. ‘If you think for one moment you’re going to part me from my child…’

He only had to picture Antonia staying in Sinnebar to know he still wanted her. And only had to think of his child to know he wouldn’t let her go. But she represented
everything he had pledged to avoid. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Having shunned his late father’s self-indulgent lifestyle, it now appeared that he was following his father’s lead to the letter. Was he to lose everything he had fought for? Was the country he loved to be plunged back into chaos? Could he hide Antonia away as his father had hidden her mother? Just the thought of it disgusted him.

Would he pay her off when the child was born…?

Antonia might shun money now, but didn’t they say everyone had their price? ‘I won’t part you from your child; I’ll help you.’

‘Thank you.’ Her face softened and hope returned to her eyes.

‘If only to ensure you do a proper job at the citadel.’ His tone was brusque and businesslike as he struggled to remain immune to the Antonia effect.

‘Oh, I will,’ she assured him, her face transformed by happiness and wreathed in smiles. ‘You have no idea how hard I’ll work.’

‘Not at the risk of your pregnancy,’ he commanded.

‘Of course not. I’ll be sensible,’ she promised him fervently.

‘No more wild adventures.’

Only with you
, flashed briefly across her eyes. ‘None. I promise,’ she said. And then she flung herself at him, hugging his unresponsive body, exclaiming, ‘Thank you, thank you!’

There was such rapture on her face, and such vulnerability in her expression, while his mind was full of the fact that he was going to become a father—the very best of fathers—and he would be ruthless in achieving that end.

Thanks to the narrow windows it was surprisingly cool inside the many rooms, and far less threatening than Antonia had originally thought. In fact, now she was inside the citadel, it seemed to welcome her, though there would have to be some fairly major changes. During the renovations she would ask the architects to find a way to bring in more light and make the place seem more welcoming.