Captive Bride

Chapter Thirteen

DURING the week that followed the accident, Philip rested in the tent most of the time. Christina became resigned to living with him for a while, and decided to make the best of it. She even began to enjoy Philip's company, since he made no demands on her. He talked with her, laughed with her, and even taught her to play cards. She mastered the art of poker playing quite easily, and soon was able to beat him at his own game.

She began to feel at ease in Philip's presence, as if she had known him all her life. He told her about coming to Egypt to look for his father, and about his life with the tribe. He told her how they had roamed from oasis to oasis on the desert in search of pasturage for the flocks, occasionally raiding caravans or other Bedouin tribes. She asked him why he preferred this way of life, but he said only, "My father is here."

Four days after the accident, Philip became irritable from confinement and inactivity. He began snapping at her for the smallest thing, but she paid no attention to his temper. She'd felt the same way when he'd confined her to the tent at first. When his temper flared, she escaped the tent and went to visit Yasir.

Yasir Alhamar welcomed her visits. His old brown eyes lit up and crinkled with his smile whenever she entered his tent. Yasir was so unlike her own father, who had still been a young and vital man when he died. But she knew Yasir wasn't near the age he looked. Egypt's torrid weather and hardships had aged him early.

Philip's father was dying now. He was pale, weaker than when she had first met him, and his attention often wandered.

Christina read to him from the Arabian Nights, which he enjoyed. But Yasir dozed off after an hour or so, or just stared into space as if she weren't even there.

When she mentioned Yasir's weakness to Philip, he said only, "I know." But she could see sorrow in his dark-green eyes. He knew his father didn't have much longer to live.

On the seventh day of Philip's recuperation, Christina was aroused from a sound sleep by Philip's hand caressing her boldly. She drowsily turned and put her arms around his neck, arching her body against his as she welcomed his kiss.

"No!" she shrieked, when she realized she wasn't dreaming. She tried to push him away, but he pinned her arms to her sides.

"Why not?" he demanded brusquely. "My shoulder has healed sufficiently. You gave yourself willingly to me before making an invalid of me last week. Now I've recovered to my satisfaction, and I've a desire for you that needs quenching." He brought his lips hungrily down on hers, taking her breath away as he kissed her long and hard.

"Philip, stop it," Christina implored. "I gave into you once for a reason, but I won't again. Now let me go!" She tried to pull her arms loose, but it was no use. Philip had regained all his strength.

"So—you were only playing games with me on that beautiful night Well, I won't let you go, my sweet, so fight me if you will. Fight me until you die of pleasure!"

That afternoon, Christina heard angry voices outside. She ran to the entrance of the tent and saw Philip and Rashid arguing heatedly. Three women sat on the ground beside them. Philip suddenly turned from Rashid and strode toward their tent, a dark scowl on his handsome face.

"Get inside, Christina," Philip growled at her when he came into the tent. He headed straight for the cabinet, filled his goblet with wine, and drank it down.

"What's wrong, Philip?" she asked. She wondered what had made him so angry, and hoped that she wasn't the cause. "I notice we have visitors."

"Visitors, ha!" he stormed, pacing back and forth. "Those women aren't visitors. They're slaves Rashid abducted from a slave trader's caravan last night. He plans to take them north tomorrow and sell them."

"Slaves!" Christina gasped, horrified. She ran over to Philip and pulled him around to face her. "You were raised in England. You can't condone the selling of human beings. Tell me you don't!"

"I don't condone it, but that has nothing to do with it"

"You will set them free?" she asked, searching his eyes for assurance. But he only pulled away from her.

"No," he replied curtly. "Damn, I knew this would happen."

If Philip let Rashid sell those women, what was to stop him from selling her? All her hopes vanished once again.

"Why won't you let them go?" she asked quietly.

"Must you always question my motives, woman? The slaves are Rashid's property. He stole them. As I told you once before, I let bim keep what he steals. Do not question me again where he is concerned. Do you understand me?"

"I understand this much," she flung at him. "You're a cruel, merciless barbarian. If you ever put your hands on me again, my scissors will hit a more vital spot!"

She ran to Yasir's tent, and hoped Philip wouldn't follow her there. But Rashid shared the tent with his father, and she ran straight into his arms.

"You," she whispered venomously. "You're worse than Philip. You're all a bunch of barbarians."

Rashid released her and stood back pretending not to understand. "What have I done to offend you, Christina?" he said.

"Have you no respect for other human beings?" she snapped, hands planted firmly on her hips. "Why do you have to sell those women?"

"I don't," Rashid said, eyeing her hungrily from head to foot. "The last thing I would wish is to have a beautiful woman angry with me. If you wish me to set those slaves free, I will."

Christina stared at him. So Rashid wasn't the greedy man Philip would have her believe.

"Thank you, Rashid, and I'm sorry. It seems I've misjudged you." She smiled. "Will you take your evening meal with us tonight? I'm afraid I'd rather not be alone with Philip."

"Ah, you are not happy here?" he inquired softly. "All is not well between you and Abu?"

"Why, did you think it ever was?" she laughed. Perhaps she had found a friend in Rashid.

'That is too bad, Christina," he said. She saw the desire in his dark-brown eyes, but his face was so soft and boyish, she could almost imagine him younger than herself.

That evening, Christina played the gracious hostess attending all Rashid's needs. She entertained him with stories of England and her girlhood.

Rashid couldn't keep his eyes off her, and didn't care that his desire showed so openly. There couldn't be another woman in all the world who could match her beauty, Rashid thought She was dressed in a pale-green silk skirt and blouse, with a shawl of the same material draped about her creamy white shoulders. She wore her hair gathered loosely at her nape, and the golden curls cascaded down her back. He could almost forget his plans watching her, but he had waited too long for their fulfillment

Philip watched Christina, too, but for a different reason. He fumed silently while she flirted openly with Rashid. With each glass of wine, Philip thought of a different way he would enjoy killing them both. He had been angry when she left the tent that afternoon, but now he felt able to strangle her pretty neck. He hadn't said a word when she told him Rashid was going to set the women free. Now he waited, rage festering inside, to see just how far she'd provoke him.

Through the meal and afterward, Christina ignored Philip completely. She could tell he was furious, for his eyes were dark and angry as they followed her every move. She wanted him to be as angry as she had been that afternoon. She was getting even in her own way, and thoroughly enjoyed herself.

After Rashid left, Christina sat across from Philip sipping her tea and waiting for him to make the first move. She felt nervous now as he continued to stare silently at her.

"Did you enjoy making me look like a fool tonight, Christina?"

Starting, she glanced at him warily. "Pray tell, how did I make you look the fool?" she inquired innocently.

A shiver ran down her spine when he answered, "Don't you know when you've pushed me too far, woman?"

"I'm afraid you will be pushed even farther before this night is through," she whispered.

When Philip stood up, Christina swiftly grabbed for the scissors she had concealed beneath her skirt. But Philip saw her movement and guessed her game. Before she could get at the scissors, he had both her hands in his. He pulled Christina roughly to her feet, untied her skirt, and threw the scissors across the room.

"Could you really kill me, Tina?" he asked, his face hard. He'd underestimated this woman he had made his own.

"Yes, I could kill you!" she hissed. How humiliating to stand half-naked and helpless before him! "I hate you!"

He stiffened and tightened his grip on her. "I've heard you say that often enough. You've gone too far this time, Christina, and you deserve punishment." Seemingly without emotion, he sat down and pulled her across his lap.

"Philip, no!" she screamed, but he brought his hand down with all his might across her bare buttocks. She screamed with pain, but he brought his huge hand down again, harder this time, leaving another bright red imprint.

"Please, Philip," she cried. "I couldn't kill you. You know that!" But he paid her no mind and hit her a third time.

"Philip, I swear I'll never try it again!" she cried, the tears running down her cheeks. She was begging him, but she didn't care anymore. "I swear it, Philip. Please stop!"

Philip turned her over gently, and cradled her in his arms. Christina felt like a child sobbing uncontrollably. Nobody, not even her parents, had ever spanked her before. But no matter how humiliating it had been, Philip was right, she had deserved it. She should have known Philip would call her bluff. She wouldn't have stabbed him, she didn't have the courage.

Finally Christina stopped crying and laid her head against Philip's broad chest. She was still trembling when he carried her into the bedroom. She didn't have the will to protest, whatever he planned to do next. He laid her on the bed and removed her blouse and the material she had wrapped around her leg to hold the scissors. He pulled the covers over her shivering body and smoothed the golden hair back from her face. Bending low, he kissed her tenderly on her forehead and left the room, but still she didn't care.

Crossing the room in long strides, Philip went directly to his wine and drained the goblet, trying to wash away the events of the day. He lay down on the couch and contemplated the woman sleeping in his bed.

All evening he had thought how pleasant it would be to make her suffer for flirting with Rashid. He had wanted to make her beg and scream for mercy. But after she gave him a real reason to punish her, he felt ashamed. He felt sick inside for making her cry with pain. But damn it, she had put him in a blinding rage and deserved what she got! Of all the stupid pranks to pull—but now he was the one who was suffering, not her. He had never before hit a woman, and it sure as hell didn't sit well with him. And she had been ready to stab him if he touched herl Damn, that woman was getting under his skin!

Philip wondered what sort of game that pup Rashid was playing now. Philip had asked him either to free the slaves or take them out of camp. But Rashid had refused him, only to turn around and set them free for Christina.

Philip knew Rashid was fascinated by Christina, and he couldn't blame him for that. Christina was so beautiful any man would desire her. Perhaps he was trying to win her affections, where Philip had failed. He would have to keep an eye on Rashid. Christina was his own. And even though she hated him, he would let no one take her from him.