The Golden Barbarian

  She caught sight of him below, striding toward the stable. His pace was unhurried, almost leisurely, but every step held enormous power under complete control.

  She suddenly realized his iron control was at the core of her fascination with him. She had sensed a deeply layered explosive violence in him as he outlined his proposition, and she had been waiting for it to surface.

  She was being foolish. If he did possess a violent nature, she would probably never see it. He had given her a choice. But what if she refused his proposal? Would he still be so calm and reasonable?

  Galen disappeared into the stable, and Tess felt a sudden easing, as if she had been released from bondage. Bondage? What an odd thought when he had offered her only freedom.

  She turned away from the window and sat down in the chair. Resting her chin on her hand, she dreamily gazed into thin air.

  Freedom. The thought was honey-sweet, and the temptation nearly irresistible. Three years and she could be free for the rest of her life. Three years was not such a long time. She had spent six at the convent, and Zalandan had to be better than that dreary place.

  Freedom.

  “Well?” Sacha asked as Galen came into the stable.

  “I left her to mull over my proposition.” Galen took off his coat and hung it over the side of the stall again. He knelt beside Sacha in the stall. “I’ll carry on.”

  “Does she need me?”

  Galen’s brow rose as he glanced sidewise at Sacha. “I don’t know why you persist in believing I’m victimizing your sweet cousin. I was everything gentlemanly and courteous to her.”

  “She’s still a child. I’d hoped while she was away, she would become—”

  “Convents don’t contribute to worldly wisdom.” Galen dipped the cloth in the hot water again. “That’s why you were able to persuade her father to send her away.” He applied the salve and wrapped it tight around the stallion’s ankle. “She’s not really a child. She may lack experience, but we both know she is anything but ignorant and naive.”

  Sacha remembered the luminous look on Tess’s face when she had spoken of traveling the route of Marco Polo. “She has her dreams.”

  “So do I.” Galen waited another moment, then loosened the bandage and began to unwind it. “Sedikhan.”

  Sacha frowned as he looked at the bandage. “How many times are you going to do that?”

  Galen put the cloth in the hot water in the bucket. “As long as it takes to get the results I need.”

  “All night?”

  “If necessary.” Galen squeezed the water out of the cloth and began spreading the salve on the bandage.

  Sacha felt a sudden uneasiness as he realized Galen’s determination in this matter, small as it might be, was as nothing compared to his devotion to his grand plan.

  “Why don’t you warn her?” Galen suggested without looking at him. “It’s what you want to do.”

  “You won’t try to stop me?”

  “Why should I? It will make you feel better.” He wound the bandage tightly around the horse’s ankle. “And it won’t make any difference.”

  “You think you’ve convinced her?”

  “No,” Galen said softly, “I know I’ve convinced her.”

  “You don’t have to do it.” Sacha gazed at Tess’s taut back as she looked out the window. “All you have to do is say you don’t wish to marry Galen, and we’ll set out for Belajo in the morning.”

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” Tess asked in a low voice. “I was surprised when my father told me I was to go to France. It was you who presented the idea and talked him into it. Why?”

  “Galen decided you needed protection, and he believed the sisters would provide it.”

  “And do you always do what Sheikh Ben Raschid tells you to do?”

  “He convinced me it was for your good.”

  “Yes, he can be very persuasive.” She turned to face him. “But I’m surprised he can so easily get you to do as he wishes.”

  “He does not—” He broke off and grimaced ruefully. “It’s true he had no trouble molding me to his wishes at that time. I was a thoughtless popinjay who had more concern for the cut of my coat than anything happening around me.”

  She studied him thoughtfully. “But you’ve changed.”

  “Sedikhan changed me. Galen changed me.” Sacha glanced down at his gold brocade coat. “Though I admit I still like an occasional bit of flash and glitter.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with flash and glitter.” She smiled affectionately. “And that empty-headed popinjay was very kind to me.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I should have done more to help you. It’s not enough to care, one has to act.”

  “Is that what you learned in Sedikhan?”

  “Yes, that and other things.”

  “Then it must be a very interesting country. Why are you trying to persuade me not to go?”

  “I feel responsible.”

  “And?”

  “It’s a difficult situation. I don’t want you hurt.”

  “Yet you consented to maneuver me into this position.”

  “Galen needed you. Sedikhan needed you. I thought it wouldn’t be such a bad bargain for you.”

  “And now you do?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Galen is … He’s not always …” After a long pause he said softly, “In Zalandan Galen is all-powerful, and his people love him. His power is even greater than my father’s.”

  “That cannot be so bad if his people hold him in affection.”

  “You don’t understand. Galen’s desire to have Sedikhan united is a passion that sweeps everything else away.” He gazed at her soberly. “I don’t want you to be swept away, Tess.”

  She laughed. “Why should I be affected by all that? I’d be a visitor in Sedikhan for three years, perhaps less.”

  He could see the excitement flushing her cheeks and had a sinking feeling his words had not swayed her. “Three years can be a long time.”

  “I have only one question. Do you believe I can trust Galen to keep his promise?”

  “Yes.”

  She crossed the room to give him a fleeting kiss on the cheek. “I thank you for your concern, Sacha, but it will truly be fine.” A hint of bleakness colored her voice as she continued, “I know I’m only a pawn to your friend, but when have I ever been anything else? At least I’ll have a chance at independence, if I agree to his terms. No one else will offer me even that possibility. You were right, he was right; It’s not a bad bargain.”

  “You’ve made up your mind?”

  She nodded as she took a step back. “And I’d better tell him. Where is he?”

  “In the stable. I’ll go with you.”

  “I’ll go alone.” She cast him a gamine grin. “Stop frowning. Everything is going to be splendid.”

  Chapter 2

  “What are you doing?” Tess asked from the doorway of the stable.

  Galen turned toward her. The light of the setting sun behind her sharply silhouetted her slender figure, seeming to etch her hair in dark flame. “My horse was bitten by a snake on the way to Dinar, and the wound is infected,” he explained slowly.

  “It’s getting dark, you’ll need a lantern.”

  “I was about to light one.”

  “I’ll do it. Don’t leave him.” She moved quickly to a lantern hanging on a post near the door. On a ledge below was a flint and stone. She struck them together, flame flared, and a moment later she was carrying the lighted lantern to Galen.

  He could see the shadow of her limbs through the thin blue batiste of the high-waisted gown she still wore.

  She set the lantern on the ground beside the bucket and admired the horse. Her hand stroked his muzzle. “He’s beautiful. What’s his name?”

  “Selik.”

  “What happened to Telzan?”

  “I use him for breeding now. Selik is one of his colts.”

  “He’s very gentle. You don’t expect that quality in a stal
lion.”

  He gazed at her curiously. “And what do you know about stallions?”

  “Not enough. I need to learn more.” She knelt beside him. “Was the snake poisonous?”

  “Yes, but it was only a glancing strike.”

  “What salve are you using?”

  “An herbal mixture of mustard grass and rye.”

  “Have you tried mixing mint with it?”

  “No.”

  “It cools the flesh, which makes the animal able to tolerate greater heat from the cloth.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I experimented with several herbs when one of the Count’s mares developed a strain.” She reached past him, unwound the cloth from around Selik’s ankle, and gently stroked the horse’s ankle. “Just look. Have you ever seen such delicate bones?”

  Her bones were far more delicate, he thought. He felt as if he could crush her with one careless caress. He could see the tracing of blue veins at her wrist, and the steady pounding of the pulse at her temple a few inches from his own. “Exceptional.”

  “One has to wonder how ankles such as those ever manage to support all that weight.” She dipped the cloth in the bucket and squeezed out the excess moisture. “We’re going to need more very hot water.”

  “I’ll get it.” He stood up, took the bucket to the door, and threw out the water, then turned and strode over to the kettle and filled the bucket again. “What count?”

  “Hmm?” Her brow was knotted in concentration as she wrapped the ankle. “Oh, the Count de Sanvene. He owned the estate next to the convent. He had a fine stable of horses, but not one to compare to this boy.” She sat back on her heels to look admiringly up at the stallion. “Do you have many horses like Selik?”

  “No horse is like another.”

  “I agree.”

  “The sisters let you visit the Count?”

  “Not at first. I had to sneak away.” She grimaced. “I can’t tell you how many times I was caught and sent to the Reverend Mother for discipline.”

  “How old was the man?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I never asked him.”

  “Guess.” Galen heard the sharpness in his voice and tried to temper it as she glanced at him in surprise. “Young?”

  She shook her head. “He had grandchildren, I think.”

  Galen felt a little of his tension melt away. He brought the bucket of steaming water to her side. “You liked him?”

  “I liked his horses.” She nodded. “He was quite irritable at first, but when he saw I could be useful around the stable, he became almost pleasant.”

  “Almost?”

  “Well, he didn’t shout at me anymore, and he visited the Mother Superior and convinced her to let me come twice a week.”

  “How did he do that?”

  “He assured her he would watch over me, and he told her I had a healing talent with animals. He also said he was sure Saint Francis of Assisi would have approved of my helping the beasts.” She chuckled. “It was the first time I’d ever been compared to a saint. The Reverend Mother was very surprised.”

  “So the good Count acquired a new stableboy?”

  “I didn’t mind. I loved being with the horses. They made the convent bearable.” She turned to him, her face alight with eagerness. “Someday I’m going to have a fine stable and breed horses like Selik and Telzan.”

  He found his gaze following the graceful line of her throat down to the upper swell of her small breasts bared by the low neckline of her gown. Her fair skin possessed an incredible sheen. He wondered how soft it would feel to the touch.

  “And I’ll have dogs and perhaps carrier pigeons.” She took the bandage from Selik’s ankle. “Don’t you think that would be a happy life?”

  “No fashionable salon?”

  Her laughter rang out. “What would I do with a salon? I cannot imagine anything more boring than sitting around reading poetry and discussing Voltaire and Rousseau.”

  The strong herbal smell mingled with the scent of lavender and soap that emanated from her. He bent closer, letting the fragrance invade his senses, and felt an urgent quickening in his loins. He had not expected this to happen so quickly. Dammit, he did not want it to happen yet. His body was readying itself to enter her—and she was more aware of his horse than of him.

  She glanced at him. “We can’t leave for Sedikhan tomorrow. Selik won’t be ready.”

  He went still. “The next day will do as well.” He waited for a moment and then asked casually, “I take it this means you agree to the arrangement?”

  “Of course.” She looked at him in surprise. “You knew I would.”

  “Let’s say I thought there was a reasonable chance.”

  “Say what you like. You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist what you offered.” She dipped the cloth in the hot water. “I think the poison is drawing, but not enough. We’ll have to keep bathing it and applying fresh salve for most of the night. I’ll take the first watch. You go rest.”

  “I can do it alone.”

  “Why should you? It’s better with two.”

  He did not argue with her. He needed to have her powerfully united with him, and this shared experience would be an important beginning. He smiled and rose to his feet. “You’re right, most things are better with two.” He strolled over and sat down on the fresh hay spread in the empty stall across from Selik’s. “You take the first two hours. I’ll take the next two.” He drew his knees up and linked his arms loosely around them, his gaze on Tess Rubinoff. She moved with a neat, economical grace, every motion purposeful and full of vitality. The short puffed sleeves of her gown revealed exquisitely formed bare arms flowing into small, capable hands that were wonderfully gentle as she touched the horse. What a rare blend of strength and fire lay beneath that delicate exterior. Small women had never appealed to him, yet he felt the muscles of his stomach clench painfully as he thought how tight she’d be around him as he plunged in and out of her body—

  He tried to rid himself of such thoughts as he drew back into the shadows and leaned his head against the rough wall. He did not want Tess to become aware of his body’s reaction to her at the moment. She was filled with soaring hope and plans for the future—precisely the emotions he had hoped to arouse in her.

  * * *

  She was being lifted from the straw of the stall and carried.

  “Sacha?” she murmured sleepily.

  “No. Shh, go back to sleep. I’m only taking you to your chamber.”

  Galen. Her eyelids felt too heavy to open. “Selik?”

  “Hell be fine. It’s almost morning.”

  Cool air struck her face as Galen carried her out of the stable. She roused. “You’ll have to change to cold compresses now to take the swelling down.”

  “I started to use cold water while you were dozing.”

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “You worked very hard. You deserve your sleep.”

  Her lids lifted slowly. Galen’s face was only inches from hers. She stared dreamily at the sharp molding of his cheekbones, his well-shaped lips. She had not noticed his lips before because his large dark eyes so dominated his other features.

  He must have become aware of her study, for he looked down at her.

  He smiled. “Sleep, kilen. All will be well. I promise you. You can trust me.”

  She remembered his inflexible determination, his quiet tenderness toward Selik during the past hours. Yes, she could trust him.

  She closed her eyes and willed herself to go back to sleep, safe in Galen’s arms.

  * * *

  The marriage between Tess and Galen was performed by Father Francis Desleps in the Cathedral of the Holy Redeemer at three o’clock the following afternoon. Galen followed Muslim customs, but he was a Christian … and a man with a powerful influence over Father Desleps. Galen had succeeded in getting a very fast special dispensation for them to marry, so there would be no thrice-published banns and other
preliminaries to their wedding.

  Tess felt strange kneeling before the altar with Galen at her side. But surely it would have felt strange with any man, she assured herself. Marriage only occurred once in a lifetime, and it was unlikely one would get accustomed to the ceremony. She smiled.

  “You have been smiling for some time now,” Galen commented after they had thanked the priest and were walking back up the long aisle. “May I ask what’s so amusing?”

  “I was just thinking it was quite ordinary to be feeling so peculiar. After all, marriage occurs only once.”

  “Occurs? You make it sound like an act of nature.” He took her arm and helped her down the steps to the cobbled street. “And it’s not inconceivable that you should marry again. Life in Sedikhan isn’t the safest existence, and wealthy widows are much sought after.”

  “I shall never marry again,” she said positively. “Why should I submit to that trap? My life will be very pleasant without a husband getting in my way.”

  “Husbands have certain uses.”

  “Protection? I can hire servants for that.”

  He helped her into the carriage waiting in front of the church. “I wasn’t thinking about protection. More in the nature of … companionship.”

  “Most husbands are dreadful companions. They’re too busy pursuing other ladies to furnish a wife with adequate company.” She leaned back in the carriage. “No, a woman is much better off with no man about to trouble her.”

  He leaned back on the seat and gazed at her, smiling faintly as the carriage started with a lurch. “We shall see if you continue in your opinion. There must be some reason the state of connubial bliss still exists.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Practicality. A man must be sure of his heirs, and a woman cannot have the father of her children deserting her after the first flush of passion fades.”

  His dark eyes were watching her impassively. “Is that what happens?”

  She nodded positively. “Of course. You know it yourself. I’d wager you never thought of Lady Camilla or that other woman again after you had your way with them.”

  “Oh, I thought of them.”

  She frowned. “You did? When?”

  “Whenever my body needed a woman.”