Delectably Undone! Part 19

He was on difficult ground. Alex had lain awake long after Susannah had left. He'd meant to spend the night thinking over diplomatic issues, but his thoughts had continuously drifted back to her. When it had been a game of desire, of bodies speaking to one another in the timeless language of seduction, who she was had not been a consideration. She'd simply been a woman, pa.s.sionate and bold. He'd been a man, answering the lure of her body. It had been simple and primal in the darkness of the tent.

Then he'd asked her name and reality had struck. She was an Englishman's daughter. Not just any Englishman's daughter. There were Englishmen and then there were Englishmen. Her father had been of the latter category.

Lord Sutcliffe was no meager player in British affairs. He'd been considered a top-notch diplomat when it came to the Empire in North Africa. Alex's father had met with him on occasion over Egyptian affairs. Alex had admired him as a hero during his years growing up in Cairo. No other man in the Empire had possessed Sutcliffe's depth of knowledge concerning the varied peoples of North Africa.

To be set upon by the mercenaries of Sheikh Bitar was an ign.o.ble death for anyone, particularly one so decorated in life. For Sutcliffe's daughter to be made a captive and subjugated to who-knew-what atrocities was an intolerable slap in the face to the Empire's pride, but Alex's body burned for a personal vengeance against Bitar and Ba.s.sam. What had they subjected Susannah to during her captivity? A woman did not have to be bedded to be debased and there'd been a moment of fear in her eyes last night when he'd grabbed her.

Seldom had a woman's attentions claimed him so completely. Alex was struck anew with the power of his desire, his desire not only to possess her but to be the first and only one to do so. That desire brought him full circle in his thoughts.

She was Sutcliffe's daughter and he was an Englishman bound by certain codes of conduct. In the throes of pleasure, he'd taken her virginity. By the nature of her birth and status in society, she could not be like his other casual encounters, enjoyed and cast aside when the excitement ebbed. She would surely demand from him a level of commitment he'd given no other woman. The strange thing was that, for the first time in his life, making that commitment didn't sound like such a ridiculous idea.

A horn blew in the souk announcing the beginning of the games. Alex turned his direction toward the big tents of the sheikh, where men were gathering for the traditional compet.i.tions. He could see Crispin's tall frame among them. It was time to act. Before he could think of what the future might hold with Susannah, he had to win her first.

Chapter Six.

The activities of the moussem suited Alex and Crispin's purposes admirably. Games of skills and other compet.i.tions gave them a chance to build a masculine camaraderie with the other men present. They did not hesitate to partic.i.p.ate. He and Crispin showed off their talents at knife-throwing. They looked over the horses other sheikhs had brought in hopes of races or trading, bolstering their cover as horse traders.

As night fell and the traditional hookah pipe came out to be pa.s.sed and smoked in Bitar's tent, Alex felt they'd made good progress in gaining a place of acceptance. Last night, they'd been invited out of courtesy, but tonight they were part of the group, having proven their prowess and their worthiness to be accepted. Alex's mastery of Arabic had made that acceptance easier. That they were dressed in Bedouin robes and speaking the common language of the desert made it harder for Bitar to remember they did not belong. It had been a strategy that had worked well for Alex over the years and he had used it liberally today to gain acceptance for him and Crispin.

Tonight would be the test. Alex knew what the men should talk about in the tent. They should talk politics and the business of their tribes. If they didn't then Alex would know his acceptance was not complete. He reached for a date, using the action as an opportunity to search the tent for Susannah. He had not seen her all day. While that had been disappointing, it had not been unexpected. Her place was in the night. His body quickened in antic.i.p.ation. He popped the date into his mouth, aware of Ba.s.sam's eyes on him. The man had watched him all day.

"The Emir of Mascara has invited us to join him," a man close to Alex said, addressing his comment to Bitar. "Will you journey on from here to Mascara?"

Bitar shook his head and spat, his tone derisive. "No, I will not go to join that infidel dog. He calls this a holy war, but it is nothing more than a ruse to subdue us to his will. He wishes to be more than the emir of a city. He wishes to be a king over all of us."

"Are you not worried about the French? They have taken Algiers," another asked.

Bitar raised his arms wide to encompa.s.s the room and the world outside the expansive tent. "What is there to worry about in the desert? The French have no way to impose their law and order out here. Here, we are law and I mean to keep it that way."

Alex nodded along with the other men in the room in a show of solidarity for the sheikh's opinion. He shot a quick glance at Crispin, his nod conveying something entirely different. Crispin nodded back. Susannah had not lied. More than that, she had proven to be resourceful, making the most of her captivity. Her command of Arabic must be better than Alex had originally thought if she'd used her lowly position as a dancing girl to complete her father's mission. His admiration for her increased even further. She'd demonstrated beyond doubt she was definitely her father's daughter.

The pipe came his way and he drew deeply on it, exhaling with fervor. He did not care for the sweet smoke of the pipe but sharing the pipe was a sign of friendship, to refuse would be d.a.m.ning in the extreme. He pa.s.sed the pipe to Crispin and the drums started. Shouts of approval rose from the men farther back by the entrance and clapping began in rhythm with the drums as the dancers entered the tent.

Alex saw Susannah immediately at the head of the line. Tonight she was dressed sumptuously in red and gold, a belt of coins tinkling provocatively at her hips, tiny bra.s.s cymbals in her hands clinking out the beat of the dance.

She was enchanting. Men stared after her hungrily as she pa.s.sed until she reached the s.p.a.ce in front of Bitar. Her hands were mesmerizing, their gestures guiding the men's gazes to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s beneath the red top she wore, leaving her splendid stomach uncovered to the collective gaze of the audience. Tonight, her costume left her much more exposed. The gauzy pantaloons rode seductively low on her hips, the delicate bones of her pelvis rising above the coin belt.

She danced as if she were oblivious to the eroticism of her costume, to the fact that her body was on display before men. Before him.

Desire throbbed in Alex. She might be oblivious to the gazes of other men, but he did not want her to be oblivious to him. Primal possession surged. He wanted her to acknowledge him. It was a foolish and dangerous wish with Ba.s.sam watching, but he wanted it all the same.

Then she did. She moved slightly to her left and put herself directly in front of him, her hips swaying, her eyes promising. She would keep those promises with him tonight, Alex vowed silently.

There were cards after dancing. For all of his protestations against the inventions of Europe, Bitar had a fondness for cards. Low tables were set up among the groupings of pillows in the tent and the men settled in for a night of cards and wine, some of the dancers staying behind to enliven the games. Alex saw Crispin claim a seat at the table with Ba.s.sam and Bitar, and he took his cue to slip out. Crispin would keep the men at the table all night.

Alex slid into the night, covertly grabbing up a wineskin and an errant plate of fruit that had gone untouched. The camp was busy. Other entertainments were taking place in other tents, people eager to impress one another and to make deals while the moussem lasted.

He found his own tent and waited. This was the only kink in his plan. He did not know where Susannah was lodged, and he could not go poking about without risk of discovery. But she'd come to him. If she could. The very thought of another commanding her to his bed rankled. More than rankled. That was too tame a word. The thought boiled his blood. Of course she'd come. The sheikh was at cards. He would not seek his bed until dawn.

His fears were unfounded. Moments later, Susannah pulled aside the tent flap and stepped inside, her eyes searching for him. She found him and smiled, the hood of her all-concealing robe falling back to reveal her glorious hair. "I can only stay a minute. Did you see today that I was right?" Her words were all business, but she was breathless.

Alex took her hand and drew her to him, inhaling deeply of her rose attar. "I heard the sheikh's testimony from his own lips. He, at least, will not be joining the emir." His words were business, too, but his tone was not. He wanted this night for something more than politics.

"You and your friend believe me then?" Her eyes searched his face. It was touching to know that his acceptance meant so much to her.

"We believe you. I believed you last night." He cupped her cheek, the length of her hair running through his fingers like gold silk.

"I will not betray you to the sheikh," she whispered, turning her cheek into his hand to nuzzle it.

"I know. Come and eat with me. I have wine and figs."

"I cannot stay." There was regret in her tone. "I only have so much freedom because there's nowhere to run in the desert. But someone may miss me. I never know when the sheikh will call for my services."

"The sheikh will be at cards for hours. Crispin will see to it. He has a penchant to possess that horse," Alex encouraged in low sensual tones. "We have time for other business."

Susannah trembled. This was what she'd risked coming here for. She might tell herself it was to confirm the validity of her information, or to make sure Alex was bound to her, committed to keeping his promise, but deep inside, she knew she'd come because she'd wanted to, regardless of promises and plots. Tonight had only to do with honest want.

Alex led her to his bed and she sat cross-legged, tucking her robe around her. She still wore her decadent dancing costume underneath. She reached for a fig, but Alex forestalled her hand.

"Let me." He took the fig and dipped it in a small pot of honey before feeding it to her. He held it above her lips, dribbling honey on them and she licked them, her heart fluttering faster in her chest, warmth pooling between her legs.

"Tease," Alex whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

She bit into the fig with a small moan of delight.

"Temptress," he growled and she laughed, amazed to find she had such power over him.

"I had not known eating could be so enjoyable." She bit into another offering of fruit.

With an oath, he set the tray of food aside and came up over her, covering her with his length. He kissed her full on the mouth and she reveled in the taste of him, the sweet flavor of honey and wine from the sheikh's feast lingering on his lips.

He explored her mouth with his tongue and she responded with pa.s.sion, her body urging him to taste all she offered, proving last night had been only the beginning. His hands moved beneath her robe, stilling when they met with evidence of her costume. "No chemise tonight?" he asked quietly.

She stiffened. "I didn't have time to change." She hesitated. "Does it repulse you?"

Alex sat back on his heels and studied her face. "You could never repulse me. I only dislike that he parades you in front of others as a sign of his hospitality." He was kissing her again, trailing little kisses down the column of her throat, causing her pulse to race at the base of her neck. He spoke between kisses.

"When I saw you tonight, I wanted you to dance only for me. I wanted my eyes to be the only ones that watched you. I wanted to rip Ba.s.sam's throat out for seeing you dressed like that. I wanted to carry you out of that tent and ravish you straight away."

His hands were at the skimpy top she wore, working the clasp at the back to free her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He kissed her bared nipples and she shuddered in delight. His lips traveled downward toward her belly, stopping to kiss her navel, his hands intimately and possessively framing her body at her hips, his thumbs resting on her pelvis.

Slipping the gauzy pantaloons from her legs, his hands returned to their original positions at her hips, his chin resting lightly at her belly as he looked up at her, his green eyes dark and intent. His thumbs ma.s.saged gently as he spoke. "I mean to worship you, my beautiful Susannah."

He did not wait for an answer but reached for the wineskin, spilling some on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her belly and suckling deeply. Susannah cried out, helplessly aroused at his audacity, acutely aware of his breath warm on her, his mouth bent to the heat at her core. Her hands tangled in his thick hair, clutching for balance, as he brought her to a shuddering wave of pleasure. She had not thought her body possessed the ability to claim such gratification.

Alex was moving over her now and she spread her legs instinctively to welcome him. Her arms twined about his neck, her legs about his waist, claiming him as her own, pushing him forward into her. She rose against him, her hips meeting his, urging him deeper. Then it began, truly began. All else had been a precursor to the great joy that awaited her. Alex drove her there and joined her, their bodies exploding together, the warmth of him filling her with great pulsing throbs as he emptied his body into hers in the most intimate of communions.

Chapter Seven.

"Is it always like this?" Susannah's question was whispered in awe, an eternity later, once their bodies had settled and she lay securely in his arms.

How was he to answer that? It had never been quite like this for him either. "It can be. Sometimes it is less." Much less, Alex thought to himself. He was beginning to see how his prior encounters had been limited, nothing more than a physical function of the body that brought temporary satisfaction. This was something else entirely. But he could hardly explain that to Susannah when he could barely explain this new wondrous thing to himself.

Susannah nodded against his shoulder, her hair tickling his nose. "I didn't think it would be like this. I didn't think lovemaking could be for me. I thought it was really only for the man. The sheikh..." Her voice broke off and she squirmed uncomfortably against him.

"The sheikh what?" Alex probed softly, his prior fears of what she might have endured in captivity rising to the fore. She might have come to him a virgin, but there were other ways... "Tell me, Susannah."

"It is nothing, now. You've proven it can be otherwise and that's all that matters. I won't have you doing anything rash. What's done can't be undone."

"That's not the most compelling argument, Susannah," Alex said grimly. "If anything, it makes me even angrier. Tell me. I am not p.r.o.ne to rash behavior, I can give you my word on it."

She drew a deep breath and slowly began to spill her tale, the tale she had not shared with him last night when he'd asked: how she'd been brought before the sheikh, spared in the ambush because the captain of the raiders thought Bitar would fancy her gold hair. Bitar had indeed fancied her. He'd cleared the tent of all but his physic and ordered her to strip. It had been the last she'd seen of her clothing, and Bitar had gazed upon her naked form, l.u.s.t evident in his eyes for what seemed an age. "Let us see if she's a houri in truth," he'd said, submitting her to the most personal and invasive of examinations, his delight bordering on ecstasy when the physic confirmed her purity.

Alex breathed deeply beside her when she finished. "The sheikh has debased you and is responsible for the death of your father. I will kill him for you, if you like." He would, too. Life and death had different meanings in the desert, and there was a part of him that was far less English than the other parts. He had killed for honor before with just cause and was not afraid to do it again should right demand it, should this vibrant woman in his arms demand it.

"I want only to put all this behind me," she answered.

His kiss was strong and firm on her neck. "Then let me love you tonight and erase those memories. The sheikh meant only to humiliate. I mean nothing of the sort." He pulled her to him and whispered out loud the litany that had run through his mind all day. "You're mine, Susannah, and no other's."

As he joined with her for a second time that night, reaching once more for ecstasy, Alex knew he wanted her in ways that transcended this bed. He wanted Susannah for her pa.s.sion, for her intelligence, for her courage and strength. He wanted her forever.

You're mine and no other's. The words dared her to hope as Alex helped her into her clothing. Dawn was approaching and she could not risk staying a moment longer. The sheikh would be ending his night of cards.

"Soon, Susannah, we'll be away from here, free to make our own plans," Alex promised, settling her robes about her.

Our own plans. How nice that sounded. But she had to be fair. "You are not obligated, Alex, just because you're the one who found me."

Alex tipped her chin up so her eyes met his. "Finders, keepers, isn't that how it goes?" he teased lightly.

For how long? she wondered. He might keep her in Algiers as a mistress perhaps, visiting her when his work brought him in from the desert. Would that be enough for her? Surely, he would not offer her more. Once he saw how Society would treat her, he would understand he could not be so gallant with his intentions.

Still, the last two nights had proven how wonderful it was to be loved by Alex Grayfield. It was more than a physical experience. She'd felt cared for, cherished in his arms. She knew enough now to confirm what she'd expected earlier. Her feelings for Alex had grown beyond the physical. For better or for worse, she had traveled far and fast down the path of love.

She reached up to his face and kissed him softly on the lips. "Thank you for everything, Alex." It was as close as she dared come to saying "I love you." Then she was gone, slipping out into the camp, hugging her hope as she went, Alex's words a mantra in her mind. You are mine and no other's.

Chapter Eight.

"He covets her, Muhsin. And I think she is not indifferent to the Christian dog." Ba.s.sam took a sloppy sip of wine and reclined against the pillows in his brother-in-law's tent. They were alone in the quiet part of the afternoon and he was free to speak his mind at last. "You have lost your prized horse to the one. If you are not careful, you will lose your houri, too."

The sheikh shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of nonchalance. "The blond one is cognizant of our ways. He would not dare to intrude in that domain."

Ba.s.sam narrowed his eyes in thoughtful contemplation. "Beneath his robes, behind his flawless command of the language, he is an Englishman. That is a fact best not forgotten." He studied Muhsin. His brother-in-law was much taken with the blond newcomer and with his dark-haired companion. It was making him careless. "The moussem will be over soon and they will go their way," Muhsin reasoned.

"With your favorite horse."

Muhsin laughed. "Do you think I'd be sitting here so calmly if I meant to let them actually take the horse?"

Ba.s.sam relaxed slightly. That sounded more like the brother-in-law he knew. "And your English houri? Will she stay behind, too?"

Muhsin's eyes darkened at the mention of his latest acquisition. "I have told her my patience is up. After the moussem she is to be mine in truth. She is an untouched gem, all that a virile man desires."

"Like the houris promised by the Koran in the afterlife," Ba.s.sam mused. "Modest, voluptuous and untouched by another, her body without the blemishes of childbirth." He eyed Muhsin speculatively. "What if she's been touched by another after all?"

"She has not. My physician has vouched for her chast.i.ty," Muhsin contested.

"That was months ago." Ba.s.sam played idly with a cl.u.s.ter of grapes. "I did not exaggerate when I said you stood to lose your horse and your houri. Last night, she went to the Englishman's tent while his friend kept us at cards. She was there a long while."

The sheikh's face darkened with anger. "How do you know this?"

"I saw the desire in the Englishman's face the first night she danced. I had her followed, for her protection, of course, in case the Englishman forced his attentions upon her," Ba.s.sam said slyly. "But last night, there was no forcing. She went to him."

Ba.s.sam watched the implications become clear to Muhsin. After a calculated silence, Ba.s.sam spoke. "She has abused your generosity and patience. She has shamed you by giving herself to an infidel."

The English b.i.t.c.h had shown him nothing but disdain since her arrival in camp, Ba.s.sam thought. A woman in her precarious position should have welcomed the bargain he'd been willing to make her. But she'd shunned him just as she'd shunned his powerful brother-in-law. She would soon learn her place. She would soon see that the power of her wiles extended only so far, and that the real power over life and death, freedom and captivity, lay with him. She would regret her choice to go it alone.

Muhsin's anger grew. "She favors the Englishman over me? She favors a meager horse trader?"

"It is perhaps more than that," Ba.s.sam insinuated. The seed of doubt had been planted and he nurtured it with his other suspicions. "The two newcomers are more than horse traders, don't you think?"

He had all of Muhsin's attention now. "What do you suspect they're hiding?"

"They've come for her, perhaps? Maybe they have been sent to find out the truth about the entourage that disappeared in the desert? Perhaps they've come to finish what the entourage started? They've come to ferret out alliances and see where the tribes will side?"

"Spies? Is this what they do in exchange for my hospitality? I have welcomed them into my tent and shared the hookah with them."