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Authors: Anne Mather

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BOOK: Sandstorm
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It was six hours already since she had been delivered of their son, and in spite of his precipitate arrival into the world, he had instantly made his presence felt. Despite his size—he had weighed only six pounds four ounces—he had a healthy pair of lungs, and Abby had teasingly told Rachid that he took after his father.

And in truth, he did resemble Rachid more than anyone. Even so, his hair was feather-fair, and his father had commented that he would tantalise the ladies when he grew up, with such unusual colouring.

Rachid himself had stayed with her throughout the night, and' she had drawn on his strength when her own grew weak. His love had sustained her, and in her more coherent moments she had wondered how she would have coped without his boundless energy. If he was weary, he never voiced it, and his gentleness and encouragement gave her the will to succeed. She refused to allow the doctors to give her anything to ease the birth; she wanted to be

totally aware of every moment. And when their son made his entry into the world, she experienced the real fulfilment of motherhood.

For Rachid, it was a wonderful moment, too. He had been so worried, so anxious, blaming himself for what had happened. He had half believed his own rough treatment of her had precipitated the crisis, and Abby had had to reassure him that she had already had warning of what was to come.

Nevertheless, the baby was premature, seven weeks premature to be precise, and no one was prepared for his arrival. Doctors were hastily summoned, nurses made their appearance, and Rachid interrogated all of them with a fervency that betrayed his inner turmoil. He was absolutely adamant that if anything should go wrong, anything at all, they were to concentrate on saving his wife before the baby. Nothing should separate them now, he told her, and if she had had any doubts that it was herself he wanted above all things, they were dramatically set at rest.

In the event, everything went smoothly. Abby gave birth without too much discomfort, and the thrill of holding her baby in her arms and of seeing the look of love and pride in Rachid's face more than made up for any pain she had suffered.

'My lady ...'

Suni's gentle voice interrupted her reverie, and she turned bemused eyes in the girl's direction. The little maid had never been far away throughout her confinement, and she had been as enthusiastic as anyone when she first learned that her mistress had a son.

'Hello, Suni,' Abby murmured now, holding out a lazy hand, beckoning her towards the bed. 'You've seen the baby, haven't you? Don't you think he's beautiful? Don't you think he's just the most adorable baby ever?'

Suni smiled. 'He is most beautiful,' she assured her mistress eagerly, coming closer to the bed. 'Just like his mother.' She straightened the sheets. 'So—are you feeling a little less sleepy? Would you like to have a visitor?'

Abby blinked. 'A visitor?'

'It is only me, Abby,' said an elderly voice from the doorway, and as Suni moved aside Abby saw Rachid's grandmother hovering on the threshold, supporting herself on a cane.

'Nona!' she exclaimed, half propping herself up on her elbows. 'Oh, come in. Come in! Did you come to see your great-grandson?'

Nona indicated that Suni should leave them, and approached the bed slowly. Then lowering herself into a chair set close by, she said: 'Yes, I have seen my great-grandson. And admired him, as you expected.' She grimaced at Abby's indignant expression. 'Don't deny it. He's a beautiful child.'

Abby relaxed against the pillows. 'Yes, he is, isn't he?' she agreed, with some satisfaction. 'Mmm, I can hardly believe it's all over.'

Nona straightened her spine. 'Is it all over?' she enquired tautly. 'I should have thought it was just beginning.'

'Oh, it is, it is,' said Abby contentedly. 'I only meant— this time yesterday—I never dreamed‑'

'No, I can believe that.' Nona studied her intently. 'I can see you feel very pleased with yourself. Why is that? Because you've given Rachid his son, or because you've gained your freedom?'

Freedom! It was a curious word for Nona to use, and Abby looked at her doubtfully. It was as if the old lady was angry with her. As if she resented the fact that Abby had had the child without her being prepared for it.

'I'm happy I've had a boy, of course,' she answered now, wondering what all this was about. 'Why shouldn't I be? It's what we both wanted.'

'Is it?' Nona's mouth was a thin line. 'Didn't you know Rachid was praying for a girl?'

'No!' Abby stared at her. 'That's not true.'

'It is true,' Nona insisted. 'I should know. He's my grandson, isn't he?'

'And he's my husband,' said Abby hotly, but Nona only waved her protests aside.

'All right,' she said. 'It seems that for Rachid's happiness I must break my word.'

'Break your word?' Abby was getting more and more confused, and Nona's words about Rachid wanting a girl didn't make any sense. She could have sworn he was delighted when she produced a son, and it hurt to think he had been deceiving her once again.

Nona sighed. 'It's about Farah,' she said heavily. 'I said I would never tell anyone what I knew, but I think the time has come.'

'Farah?' Abby felt all the strength drain from her. Not ; now, she thought weakly, don't tell me now, Nona, but the old lady would not have listened, even if Abby could have voiced the words.

'As you know, Farah is Yashti's sister,' Nona stated flatly. 'She is the older sister, and for a time it was expected that she and Rachid‑'

'Yes, I know,' said Abby dully. 'He told me.'

'Very well.' Nona composed herself again. 'She was a frequent visitor to the palace in the old days. She and Yashti came together. Yashti and Hussein were betrothed, but it was Farah that Hussein really wanted.'

Abby's drooping lids lifted. 'Hussein?'

'Yes, Hussein,' said Nona heavily. 'Even after he and Yashti were married, he wouldn't leave her alone. Oh,maybe she was to blame. Certainly she found it hard to swallow when Rachid went off and married you. Perhaps that was what sent her off the rails. In the event, she became pregnant, and as you know, the child was born out of wedlock.'

Abby could hardly absorb what she was hearing. 'You mean—you mean—it was Hussein's child? Not Rachid's?'

'Rachid was never involved with Farah in that way,' said Nona brusquely. 'And if you had trusted him more, you would have known that for yourself. As it is, I'm forced to tell you this in a last attempt to persuade you not to leave him again. I don't know what he'll do if you do leave. I fear for his sanity‑'

'I'm not leaving!' Abby had to tell her. 'Nona, I'm not leaving Rachid. I told him so last night. That was why I was with him when the baby started. I realised I no longer cared what he'd done. I love him, Nona. I love him. And I couldn't leave him, not again.'

Nona struggled to her feet. 'Abigail,' she said uncertainly. 'Child, is this true?'

Abby nodded. 'Of course it's true. I wouldn't lie about a thing like that. I was going to tell you, but when you started to tell me about Farah, I—I just couldn't get it out.'

'Oh, my dear!' Nona stepped up on to the dais, and bent to press a warm kiss to her temple. 'And here am I poking my nose into your affairs once again! I'm just an interfering old woman, and Rachid won't thank me when he learns what I've done,'

Abby shook her head. 'I can't believe it. Why didn't Rachid. tell me himself? When Yashti accused him, why didn't he deny it?'

 

Nona sighed. 'Rachid is his father's son, Abigail. One day he'll be ruler here. How could he expose his own brother? What kind of man would do a thing like that?'

Abby was totally confused. 'But Hussein should have told the truth——'

'That's true. But Hussein is not like his brother. He will never be the man his brother is. He knows it, and I suspect Yashti knows it, too.'

'But it almost destroyed our marriage!'

'As it would most certainly have destroyed Hussein's.' Nona nodded. 'Oh, yes, Abigail, there's no doubt about that. You know how precarious that relationship is, how jealous Yashti can be.'

Abby shook her head. 'But how could Rachid be sure‑'

'He couldn't. He took an enormous gamble, and almost lost.' Nona stroked her hand where it lay limply on the sheet. 'My dear, you must try to understand. Can you imagine the scandal there would have been if this had come out? As it was, it was kept within the family, and when the child died ...' She shrugged. 'It was an act of God.'

'But where is Farah now?' persisted Abby, trying desperately to assimilate all she had learned. But all she could think of was that Rachid had borne her hatred and accusations for over two years, and his only weapon had been his love for her.

'Farah?' said Nona now, in some surprise. 'Didn't you know? I thought that was how Rachid persuaded you to come back. She married an American businessman about eighteen months ago, and now she's living in New York.'

'New York!' Abby was bemused. Then, remembering what else Nona had said, she caught the old lady's hand in hers. 'About—about the baby; what did you mean about Raid's wanting a girl? Is that true? Did he really not want a boy?'

There were tears trembling on the tips of her lashes, and Nona touched them with a gentle finger. 'Oh, child,' she said, 'hasn't it dawned on you yet? Rachid confided in me that if you had a girl, he might be able to persuade you to stay and give him a son!'

 

Three months later Abby climbed out of the blue waters of a swimming pool and sauntered lazily across to where her husband was lying, watching her from a cushioned lounger. Below the gardens of this villa they had leased from a distant relative of Rachid's father, the turquoise Waters of the Aegean glinted in the late afternoon sunlight, and in the distance, the vespers bell from the little Greek monastery tolled the early hour of evening.

'Come here,' commanded Rachid possessively, catching her hand and pulling her down on top of him. 'Hmm, that is better, much better,' he murmured, releasing the bra of her bikini to find her full breasts with his lips. 'Did I tell you how good it is to have you to myself again?'

'Once or twice,' responded Abby huskily, aroused as he had known she would be by his caressing lips. 'Oh, Rachid, not here, not by the pool! Anyone might see.'

'Anyone knows better than to disturb us,' he informed her masterfully, covering her mouth with his own. 'But I agree, it is not the time to make love in the open air. That is best at night.'

He moved so that Abby was half beneath him on the lounger, her slim legs imprisoned by one of his. She put up her hand and touched his mouth as he drew back, and he caught her fingers between his lips, caressing them with sensual expertise.

'You're thinking of the night you came home from Paris, aren't you?' she whispered. 'The night I wore the chiffon gown ..

'... and we swam in the moonlight." he agreed thickly, 'and dried one another with our bodies.'

Abby caught her breath. It was crazy ..

'It was not sensible,' he agreed softly. 'But I would do it again. Would you?'

'Oh, yes. Yes, you know I'd do anything for you,' she breathed, pressing her lips to his bare chest. 'Hmm, you smell salty. Shall we take a shower later? I promise I'll be good.'

'As you were last night?' he enquired dryly, nuzzling her ear. 'We were very late for dinner.'

'Did you mind?' she teased, knowing the answer, and his mouth sought the silky curve of her shoulder.

'To think we have two more weeks of this,' he essayed with some satisfaction. 'Do you think you can bear to be away from Robert for so long?' They had called the baby Khalid Robert, in deference to both his father and hers, but the English name was much easier to use.

'I think I might manage it,' she confessed huskily, stroking the smooth skin that covered his muscular forearm. 'And I'm sure Nona and Suni will take good care of him.'

'I pity the poor nursemaid,' agreed Rachid, with a grimace. 'My grandmother can be quite aggressive when it comes to getting her own way.'

'I know,' murmured Abby reminiscently, remembering the way she had behaved when she thought Abby was leaving, and Rachid lifted his head to look down at her quizzically.

'That was said with feeling,' he declared. 'Surely you have not been rubbing Nona—how do you say it?—the wrong way?'

Abby shook her head. 'Oh, no. It was nothing really.' She

hesitated. 'She wasn't very pleased when she thought I was leaving you. She's very fond of you, you know.'

'That is how it should be,' said Rachid, with evident satisfaction, and Abby nodded her head slowly.

'She'd do anything for you, you know,' she added gently. 'Anything!'

'Including telling you about Farah,' Rachid agreed, a trifle dryly. 'Oh, yes. Do not look so apprehensive-—she told me. She also told me why she told you.' He shook his head. 'How could I be angry when she had my best interests at heart?'

Abby was relieved. She hated having secrets from him. 'If only you'd told me!' she exclaimed, touching his cheek, and he bent his head to caress her temple with his lips.

'Shall I confess?' he murmured huskily. 'Shall I admit that I intended to tell you myself? If you had not changed your mind about staying after the child was born, I was going to tell you.' He sighed, shaking his head a little ruefully. 'I am not so unselfish. I am not the knight in shining armour my grandmother thinks I am. I am only a man, and I knew I could not let you go again. That was what I meant when I said I needed to think. I did. But then, when I came back, I was not even sure that my confession would make any difference. You seemed determined to go. When Nona suggested I allow you those weeks in England‑'

'Nona suggested that?'

'Yes. She said you might feel differently when you came back.'

'Oh, Rachid!' Abby wound her arms around his neck. 'I love you so much, and I've been such a fool!'

'No, I was the fool,' he insisted softly. 'But no more. From now on there will be no misunderstandings between us. You are my wife, the mother of my son, and the only woman I have ever loved. I do not think I could face life without you now.'

 

BOOK: Sandstorm
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