Master of the Desert (14 page)

H
E SENSED
the change in Antonia and knew he would have to work hard to reassure her that his plan for her would work. His father had blanked out a son and had dumped his discarded mistress in the desert, but he would never do that. Freedom was as important to him as it was to Antonia, and was the bedrock of the constitution he had installed in Sinnebar. ‘I’m going to take another swim,’ he told her, ‘While you can have your own private stream to yourself.’ She smiled at him as he glanced towards the back of the tent where the luxurious bath-house was situated.

His life was nothing without Antonia’s bright flame in it, Ra’id realised as he grabbed a towel and strode away. She consumed his every waking moment and invaded his dreams at night, filling him with hunger for her, as well as the absolute determination to keep her at his side.

She found what looked like a page from a diary underneath the robe Ra’id had worn the day before. She guessed he had found it in her mother’s room at the fort and the sheet of paper must have fallen out of his pocket. Backing deeper into the pavilion, she began to read it.

She’d never tidy up again, Antonia determined, biting back tears. Like so many things at the fort, it must have been churned up, passed over and forgotten. She handled the single sheet of paper carefully, sniffing it, studying it, imagining her mother writing it, knowing it had been written in despair, and in hope that one day someone would read it.

I wanted everyone to know how I had to live in the last few years, so you would understand why I went to Rome.

It was a scrawled page that told of unbearable loneliness—of no one for Helena to talk to, or to share her fears with, and a child stolen away from her, a blow that no deed of land could ever soften.

Money, land and jewels, in however much abundance, had done nothing to ease a young girl’s desolation, Antonia could see, and for a moment she felt numb. Then Antonia realised her main reaction to this page from her mother’s diary was frustration, because it was too late for her to sort out her mother’s life. She could only be glad her father had found Helena, and that they had been able to share a few months of happiness together before her mother’s untimely death.

Realising she had scrunched the piece of paper in her hand, she carefully straightened it out again and put it with the other treasure she had found at the fort—the broken chain, with the tiny, diamond-studded heart. She would rather have these small things than all the riches in Ra’id’s treasury, Antonia mused, because the broken heart and the note scrawled in the childish hand were in many ways her
mother’s true legacy. And if she didn’t learn from them, she really would let her mother down, and the note would have been written for nothing.

Ra’id was with the horses when she came out of the tent with the intention of confronting him about her discovery. ‘You’ve saddled up,’ she said with surprise.

‘I have something to do—for your benefit,’ he assured her.

Ra’id was smiling, but she sensed that once again he was the autocratic ruler who had made some plan without consulting her. ‘Don’t I have any say in this?’

‘You’ll be quite safe here. Though you can’t see them, there are security guards everywhere.’

‘Oh, good…’ That was supposed to make her feel reassured?

‘Trust me—I’ll be back within the hour.’

The gap between her belief they had grown closer and the true situation had just widened into a gulf, Antonia realised. She loved Ra’id and could never say no to him, but as she watched him ride away she thought that perhaps the time had come to do that.

No? Antonia had said
no
to his suggestions for her immediate future? They were in the pavilion, facing each other, and the atmosphere between them was as tense as it had ever been. He had offered her the sun, the earth and the moon, and Antonia had turned him down. ‘I don’t think you heard me,’ he said as she stood with her back turned to him. ‘I will have the fortress repaired and refurbished to your specifications. You will have your own palace in the capital,
and
I’ll open a bank account for you with more money in it than you could ever spend. And you can spend that money on anything you want.’

‘Subject to your approval?’

‘Well,
obviously
I’ll have a say in it!’ he exclaimed impatiently.

‘A
say
in it?’ she echoed, spinning round. ‘You’ll choose. You’ll pay. You’ll install me in one of your fabulous palaces and visit me as and when you wish?’

There was no mention of their child, Antonia realised, hoping the terror didn’t show in her eyes.

‘I thought you wanted that?’

She did want to be with Ra’id, more than anything on earth, but not like this. If she agreed to his terms she was effectively giving over her life for Ra’id to control. He would hold the purse strings, the decision strings, and as he already held the strings to her heart that was one string too many. But how easy it would be to become dependent on him, a man so compelling and powerful; he exerted some hypnotic spell over her. It would be madness for her to fall under that spell, however much she wanted to. She must remain free to make her own decisions, even if sometimes she got it wrong. First off, she had to know his intentions regarding their baby so she could counter them if she had to. ‘What about our child, Ra’id? Where will our baby live?’

For the first time since she’d known him, Ra’id’s gaze flickered.

‘No,’ she repeated firmly, closing her fingers around her mother’s note.

‘You’re being unreasonable, Antonia.’

‘If it’s unreasonable to defend my unborn child, then I am unreasonable,’ she agreed.

‘Defend the baby against me—its father?’ he demanded incredulously.

‘No, Ra’id, I’m defending our child against the past—a past that still seems to rule us both.’

‘What are you saying, Antonia?’

‘When were you going to show me this?’ She produced the single sheet of handwritten despair that she had found by his robe-pocket and had the small satisfaction of seeing Ra’id reach inside his robe to check that it had gone.

‘You took that from my pocket,’ he accused her.

‘No. It must have dropped out.’

Dragging off his
howlis
, he tossed it aside. ‘I picked it up at the fort and intended waiting until you had recovered before showing it to you.’

‘Recovered?’ she said with only the smallest shake in her voice to betray her feelings. ‘Let me assure you, I have recovered.’

‘I was trying to protect you, Antonia.’

‘I don’t need that sort of protection, Ra’id. I need to face life, however ugly it is.’ And it was ugly sometimes, Antonia thought, as an image of her mother as a very young girl, writing down her deepest thoughts and fears because she had no one to confide in, appeared to be.

‘I have your best interests at heart.’

‘And thought you could woo me with expensive trinkets and the promise of more money than I could spend? Do you really think you can buy me, Ra’id?’

‘I’m doing everything I can think of to reassure you.’

‘To reassure me that it will be cosy in my gilded cage?’ Antonia’s voice broke as she shook her head in despair. ‘You really don’t know me.’ Would Ra’id never be Saif again? Would he never hear her again?

‘I’m prepared to give you everything I thought you wanted,’ he said.

In fairness, that was exactly the type of girl she’d been, Antonia reflected. How long had her journey been? And how short was Ra’id’s? Very short, she concluded. Nothing about the all-powerful ruler of Sinnebar had changed. What was he thinking now? She could usually read him, but today that famous connection of theirs had interference on the line. Something big was brewing. Ra’id would never have left her side for a minute if it had not been to make some special plan.

‘I want nothing but the best for you.’

‘And the best is to be your prisoner, because I’m carrying the heir to the throne?’ Ra’id’s expression stopped her. She had come here with him willingly, and in doing had crossed into dangerous, uncharted territory—to take on a man who was accustomed to his every word being law. Ra’id frightened her, but her fierce maternal instinct turned out to be stronger. Brandishing her mother’s note at him, she demanded, ‘Have we learned nothing from this, Ra’id? Am I to be kept in a palace as my mother was—another bird in a gilded cage, awaiting the sheikh’s pleasure, while you carry on as normal?’ Shaking her head decisively, she exclaimed, ‘I won’t do it!’

‘Think, Antonia.’

‘Oh, believe me, I’ve thought about this. Why would I agree to your plan when my only purpose in life would be to perfect the art of becoming invisible? I’d spend every day waiting for you, never knowing if you would turn up.’

‘You’re growing hysterical. You will have the charity to occupy your time, and very soon your child.’

‘A child to
occupy
me?’ Antonia protested in outrage. ‘Looking after my baby will be a privilege. Yes, I’m expecting motherhood to be demanding, but never a chore—never something to
fill in my time
. A child is far too precious for that, Ra’id—something I don’t expect you to understand.’

‘I understand more than you know.’

Something about the way he spoke sent a flash of guilt through her, and then she realised he was thinking about Razi, the half-brother Ra’id had brought up when his mother had been driven away and his father had cared for no one but himself. ‘I’m sorry. I should never have said that. I’m just—’

‘Frightened of taking a step into the unknown?’ Ra’id suggested. ‘Your life doesn’t have to be a repeat of the past, Antonia.’ He glanced at the sheet of paper she was still holding clenched in her hand. ‘The path you decide to take from here is up to you, and not some letter written years ago.’

‘You would allow me to choose that path?’

‘Why are you so certain I want to crush you?’

‘I don’t know, Ra’id. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you led me to understand our child would live with you?’

‘I would never agree to a child of mine living apart from me.’

‘So you would never agree to live apart from your child, but I must?’ Her voice shook as he touched on her Achilles heel.

‘You will have full access, naturally.’

‘And for that I must be grateful?’

‘For that you must obey.’

So there it was, Antonia thought, turning pale. After all
the niceties and tactics were out of the way. Ra’id was a desert king, a warrior; a man she was only coming to know. ‘This is your country where I must live by your rules and forget that I was ever free?’ When he didn’t answer, she added passionately, ‘I’m not my mother, Ra’id. I’m not Helena. I’m not looking to escape, or excuse, and I’m certainly not looking for a man to keep me. I’m going to stay here and work to make the best use I can of my inheritance.’

‘But that’s what I want too. I have a hunting lodge in mind where you can stay until the work here is completed.’

‘A hunting lodge, hidden away? Is that so different?’ She gestured around and then let her arms drop to her side. She wanted to stay and work as a team, as they had on the island, not because she wanted to profit from it in any way but because she loved him and wanted to be with him.

‘I’ll leave you to think about it.’

She might have matured and learned from her mother’s mistakes, but Ra’id would never change, Antonia realised as he ducked his head to leave the pavilion. This was the man she had fallen in love with: a king; an autocratic ruler; a man who was master of all he surveyed.

But not her master, Antonia determined when Ra’id had been gone for some time and she’d had time to cool down. Mounting up, she pointed her kindly gelding in the direction of the fort. She would plough her own furrow, however long that took.

A
NTONIA
had looked stricken when he had left her in the pavilion, while he felt not a moment’s guilt. He had tried the softly-softly approach, and much as he had expected it had got him nowhere. It was time to return to his default setting of intractable command. What he had planned for Antonia’s future was not only for the best for all of them, it was the only way they could move forward. She could take it or fight back, but conflict between them would only mean an unnecessary delay in her settling-in process.

She had accused him of being incapable of feeling, and maybe once he would have agreed with her. But his life had changed on the day a young virago had accosted him with a knife. Since then he felt everything acutely. Taking care of Antonia was his primary concern, but the luxury of showing his feelings was the one privilege he did not enjoy.

So maybe he had to lighten up?
Allow Antonia to take more risks?

The one thing he was determined on was that Antonia would never take another risk and would not be put in danger. She might be a formidable force in the making, but
if she was going to fulfil her potential she had to stay on track—and that was a track only Antonia could find. She thought he meant to keep her captive, when he knew that only the hand of life could contain her. Staying in Sinnebar or going back to Rome was Antonia’s choice, though he dearly wanted her to stay. But a royal child? On that there could be no compromise. His child would be brought up by him, under his roof and under his protection.

He was leaning against the trunk of a palm-tree, staring out at the desert, when he saw her mounting up. He couldn’t say it surprised him. Nothing about Antonia surprised him. For the sake of the horse he was glad she was lightweight. The gelding was moving well at the moment, but he had bathed its foreleg earlier, having noticed the first signs of trouble. He doubted she would get far, but he’d ride Tonnerre bareback and keep an eye on her.

So much for her brave adventure. Her horse went lame and she ended up leading it back to the pavilion. She could see Ra’id’s stallion tethered nearby, but not Ra’id himself. Maybe he had summoned some super-silent high-tech helicopter to whisk him back to the capital. So much for his protective instincts; she’d be better off alone.

She trudged back to the pavilion, having fed and watered her horse, knowing her options were shrinking. What kind of future awaited her if she didn’t sort this out? Would she be a prisoner like her mother? It had already begun—the waiting. Ra’id had said he’d be nearby, but he hadn’t even tried to stop her leaving, and now he’d gone.

Entering the silent pavilion, she tugged off her boots. Exhausted by everything that had happened that day, she
just about managed to strip off her clothes before tumbling into a disillusioned ball on top of the silken cushions, where she quickly fell asleep.

She was dreaming of riding in front of a mysterious, dark stranger on a wild, black stallion across mile upon mile of desert when the sound of rustling skirts shocked her awake. Blinking against the light, she sat up, and it took her a moment to realise three women were bowing to her. ‘Please,’ she begged them groggily as she hastily dragged a sheet over her naked body. She whisked her hand around to mime that no one had to bow to her.

As the kohl-lined eyes smiled back at her, Antonia recognised the three Bedouin women she’d met a couple of days before. ‘I know you!’ she said, putting two and two together and realising that Ra’id must have left her to ask them to come and keep her company. ‘My riding clothes.’ She pointed to them, and the women nodded with enthusiasm, their ice-blue robes with the intricate silver crossstitch decoration twinkling in the strengthening light as Antonia thanked them for lending her such sensible clothes.

Now she was a little embarrassed, and had to carefully manoeuvre herself off the bed. Wrapping the cover tightly around her, she did her best to make them welcome. ‘Would you like a drink?’ she offered, lifting the jug of juice that had miraculously appeared on a nearby piercedbrass table.

The women must have brought it while she was asleep, Antonia realised, along with the dishes of sweetmeats and fruit. ‘You’re very generous,’ she said, bowing to them as best she could in her sheet ensemble.

The women giggled, as if she was the funniest thing they had ever seen and, shaking their heads, indicated that first she must follow them.

The bathing pool had been warmed by the fast-strength-ening sun, and Antonia exclaimed with surprise and pleasure to see the women had scattered rose petals on the surface of the water. This was real luxury, she thought, quite excited at having her hair washed and then her scalp massaged with the most sweet-smelling products. The world should know about these, Antonia decided when the women explained to her with mimed actions that they had picked and prepared the herbs and flowers for the lotions themselves. Maybe that was something else she could do when she wasn’t busy with the baby, the restoration work and the charity.

When they had patted her dry with soft towels, warm hands massaged her with more fragrant unguents. This should be part of her daily routine—not that she’d have time, Antonia thought with a rueful smile. And what was coming next? she wondered when the women slipped a plain, loose robe over her head.

Taking her by the hands, they ushered her excitedly into the pavilion, where they sat her down and dried and polished her hair before plaiting it loosely and decorating it with exotic flowers. More scent was applied, until Antonia decided she smelled like a garden, and then they put make-up on her and painted intricate designs on her hands and feet with henna.

This really was special attention, she thought, starting to wonder about it—but then they produced another robe for her approval, and she gasped. The women were pleased
to see her delight at this first sight of a masterpiece of design in sky-blue silk chiffon. The delicate fabric floated as they showed it to her, and was decorated with tiny seedpearls and sparkling silver coins that would jingle as she moved. Before she put it on, the women fastened anklets of jewelled bells above her feet, and more around her wrists, and then they slipped the whisper of highly decorated silk-chiffon over her head. She was just revelling in those silken folds when, with some ceremony, they prepared to veil her.

She felt a real frisson of excitement now, realising this must be the culmination of the ceremony. They had even brought a full-length mirror into the pavilion, and placed it in front of her so she could see the finished effect.

She looked amazing—amazingly different, Antonia realised, seeing sultry eyes she hardly recognised flashing back at her. But the question uppermost in her mind was why? Why now? Why were the women doing this for her? What was this all about? And how could she ask her newfound friends what was going on, when no one spoke the same language? She couldn’t be so rude as to stop the women when they were having such fun attending to her—and, truthfully, so was she—but she couldn’t deny a nagging sense of doubt that suggested she was being prepared to take on the role of His Imperial Majesty’s concubine.

She would bring everything to a halt if that were the case, Antonia determined, but for now…The women carried a twinkling veil reverently over outstretched arms. To try it on, just once, was irresistible. The veil sparkled bewitchingly, exceeding any fantasy image she could ever have come up with—and were those tiny jewels sewn onto
the floating panels? Blue-white diamonds? The veil was clearly precious and significant to the women, judging by the way they handled it.

And they weren’t finished with her yet, Antonia realised when they had draped it over her head and shoulders. Now they were going to secure it with the most fabulous rope of turquoise-and-coral beads. The turquoise toned beautifully with the robe, while the coral could have been chosen to point up the warm-blush tint in her cheeks.

What on earth had she done to deserve this?

That was her first thought, and it was swiftly followed by
who is this?
as an older woman entered the tent.

The older woman shocked Antonia into silence by explaining that Signorina Antonia Ruggerio had been adopted as a daughter of her tribe. ‘And my name is Mariam,’ she said. ‘I will be your advocate, should you require me in the discussions to come.’

What discussions? Antonia wondered. And she could speak for herself, though she nodded and smiled politely. It must be something to do with the charity, she reasoned. This was a culture she knew little about, and if she wanted to forge ahead with her work it would be wise to have an interpreter—at least until she was fluent in the language herself. But a daughter of the tribe? That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

Mariam pretty much confirmed these thoughts, explaining that once the most powerful tribe in Sinnebar had accepted Antonia as a daughter she would have no trouble persuading the rest of the country to support her.

Well, anything that would help to spread the reach of the charity was a good thing, Antonia supposed. Learning that Ra’id was the head of this most powerful tribe came
as no surprise—but if he was also the head of the ruling council, who was going to refuse him? ‘How does that work?’ Antonia murmured, thinking out loud.

With a faint smile and a low bow, the woman called Mariam walked gracefully out of the pavilion.

Ruling council, my foot!
Antonia thought, starting to pace. Once again, everything had been decided by Ra’id. She could see the point of the fabulous costume now. This wasn’t a treat, it was a set-up, a shrewd move by Ra’id to involve her in some ceremony far away from the prying eyes of the world in an exotic setting he believed would seduce her. The ceremony probably wasn’t even legal. She would be no more secure than her mother—no more visible, certainly. So much for her fantasy of the silken veil! She would be a prisoner in a silken veil, Ra’id’s love-slave, until he tired of her.

She whirled around when he strode into the tent. ‘Ra’id!’ Mariam had entered behind him, and she was followed by the girls who had helped to prepare Antonia for their sheikh.

Ra’id stood in the centre of the pavilion, an ominous force dressed all in black, still with the
howlis
wrapped round his face. ‘From now on,’ he informed her, ‘this is how it will be. These women will wait on you and I will not see you alone again until we are married.’

‘Married?’ The word choked off any air supply she might have had in her lungs.

‘That is what you wanted, isn’t it?’And before she could protest—
Yes! No! Not like this!
—he went on, ‘Now you are an accepted daughter of the tribe, I must observe the formalities laid down.’

‘Centuries ago?’ Antonia challenged him, almost beside herself with shock.

‘Oh no,’ Ra’id replied evenly. ‘Somewhat longer than that, I should think.’

‘You are joking?’ Then, realising the women standing behind Ra’id were still waiting for her instruction, Antonia remembered her manners and invited them to sit down.

Once everyone was seated, she went up to Ra’id; staring into his eyes, which was all she could see of his fierce face behind the headdress, she hissed, ‘Did you think to ask me first? Did I miss something before you disappeared yesterday?’

The expression in Ra’id’s eyes remained as shrewd and as dangerous as ever. ‘I thought you liked surprises,’ he said mildly.

‘Some surprises,’Antonia agreed. But surprises came in many forms. The chance to dress up in pretty clothes was nice, but when it came to matters of the heart—things that really mattered—like a marriage between two people…

She’d done with surprises, Antonia realised. It would be helpful if an alarm rang on the day you grew up, she reflected—helpful to everyone, especially Ra’id. She could no longer be seduced by a visit behind the silken veil, or by fabulous jewels and clothes that looked as if they had been sequestered from the set of a Hollywood movie. Or by some hasty marriage ceremony that probably had no legal standing outside this tent. Before she’d come to Sinnebar? Yes; she had been impressionable then, before she had met and fallen in love with a man called Saif. But now there was just one man and one woman, or there should have been. And you could forget the trimmings; she
didn’t need them. She would never settle for anything less than a real marriage based on love. She certainly didn’t intend to be bulldozed into the most important decision of her life just because this was expedient for Ra’id.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded as she started tugging off the rope of jewels holding her veil in place.

Ra’id had underestimated her for the last time, Antonia determined. ‘If you don’t know…’ she said, and then, conscious that they weren’t alone, she added more discreetly, ‘Do you mind if we walk outside? Only I’m feeling a little faint in here.’

‘Of course.’

Ra’id was immediately concerned about her.

About her
pregnancy
, and the welfare of his child, Antonia amended as the ruler of Sinnebar escorted her out of the tent.

He was at her side in a moment. Pregnancy must have weakened her, he realized. There was some shade inside the pavilion, but no air-conditioning, plus he and the other women were used to the heat.

Having removed her veil and carefully placed the rope of precious jewels on top of it, she took a moment to reassure the women and thank them by miming with expressive hands. They looked at him for reassurance too, and with a brief dip of his chin as he strode past them he confirmed Antonia’s wishes. This was not the child-woman he had first encountered on his yacht, but a woman of purpose who made her own decisions.

She made for a group of palm trees where he had sheltered the previous evening and there she stopped. ‘What’s wrong?’ he said, joining her in the shade.

‘This—all this,’ she said with a sweep of her hands over the jewelled gown. ‘More toys for me to play with, Ra’id? I grew up with this—I thought you knew that. I have fourteen wardrobes crammed full of clothes back in Rome. My brother gives me everything that money can buy; at one time I thought that beautiful clothes and wonderful jewellery, eating at the best places in Rome, was all it took to make me happy. I took it for granted, because that was my life. But it’s not enough, Ra’id. I’ve seen more now, and I want more.’