Captive Bride

  The pain she felt in her wrists from his iron grip gave her courage, and she glared at him furiously.

  “Damn you, Philip! Why must you hear it from my own lips, when you know the answer already?”

  “Tell me!” he demanded harshly.

  Christina had never seen him so cruel and merciless before. He gathered her wrists together in one hand and started to pull her skirt up with the other. She realized that if he carried out his threat, he could bleed to death when his wound opened again. Yasir would surely have her killed if he died.

  “All right!” she sobbed. “I admit it. I admit everything. Are you satisfied now, damn you?”

  She rolled to her side of the bed when he released her, and cried softly into her pillow.

  “You give in too easily, my love,” Philip laughed weakly. “I wouldn’t have made love to you, no matter how enjoyable it would have been. I’d rather enjoy all the sweet nights to come than die in your arms tonight.”

  “Oh! I hate you, Philip Caxton. Hate you, hate you, hate you!” Christina wailed.

  He only laughed, and presently went to sleep.

  Damn him—damn him to hell, she thought silently, gritting her teeth so she wouldn’t scream it out loud. He could so easily make her break all her firm resolutions. She gave in too quickly, as he’d so laughingly reminded her. She should have let him bleed to death! But what would have become of her then? Did she really want to see him dead?

  She’d felt utterly sick to her stomach when she saw the scissors slide into his shoulder and thought she’d killed him. But why? Was it fear for Philip, or for herself? She didn’t know, but she promised herself that he wouldn’t find her so easy to bluff in the future.

  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 him 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 her! 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.

  THE DAY WAS hot when Christina finally stirred beneath the covers. The room was empty, and she wondered if Philip had bothered to come to bed at all last night. She couldn’t blame him, for she had given him new reason to distrust her. He must hate her now, but perhaps that was better. He might even let her go.

  Christina rubbed her hand gently across her buttocks, but there was no pain. It was her pride that was bruised. She wondered how Philip would act toward her today, for he had not said a word after spanking her. She hoped he would not punish her further.

  Amine came to visit Christina before the midday meal and brought her oldest child with her. Little Syed was about two years old, and Christina laughed as he ran about the room looking for things to get into. But she was embarrassed in the other girl’s company, for Christina knew Amine must have heard her screams last night.

  Amine smiled at her knowingly. “I would tell you something, Christina, for I know what is bothering you. There is no shame in what Sheik Abu did to you last night. It shows only that he really cares for you, otherwise he would not bother Nura was filled with jealousy last night, for she knows this, too.”

  “The whole camp must have heard me,” Christina gasped. “I’ll never be able to show my face again.”

  “Most of the camp was asleep. But still, it is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I don’t exactly feel proud,” Christina said. “But I do know that I deserved punishment last night.”

  Just then, Philip walked in, startling them both. He walked into the bedroom without a word. Christina hoped he hadn’t overheard their conversation.

  “I will go now,” Amine said, picking up little Syed. “I am sure Sheik Abu wishes to be alone.”

  “You don’t have to go yet, Amine,” Christina replied nervously.

  “I will come again.”

  “I’ve enjoyed our talk,” Christina said. She walked Amine to the entrance and squeezed her hand, whispering, “Thank you, Amine. I feel much better now.”

  Amine returned her smile and scurried away. Christina thought how happy Amine seemed, even though she had been stolen from her family, too.

  Christina sensed Philip’s presence behind her, but before she could turn around, he put his arms around her and pulled her forcefully against him. He cupped his hands over her breasts, and her knees became weak with his nearness. She fought against the weakness and pleasure that his touch gave her.

  “Stop it, Philip. Let go of me this instant!” she demanded, trying desperately to pull his huge hands from her body. But Christina stopped struggling when he tightened his grip.

  “You’re hurting me,” she gasped.

  “That’s not my intention, Tina,” he whispered in her ear. Loosening his hold, he played with her nipples, gently rubbing them between his fingers. They rose tautly
beneath the thin silk material of her blouse, demanding satisfaction.

  But she couldn’t let him continue. She had sworn never to give in again.

  “Oh, please stop, Philip,” she begged as he moved his smoldering lips down the side of her neck. A burning desire arose within her, making her tremble with its intensity, and suddenly she prayed that he wouldn’t let her go.

  “Why should I stop? You are mine, Tina, and I will caress you when and where I please.”

  She stiffened at his words. “I am not yours. I belong only to myself!” She pried his hands loose and turned to face him. She stood proudly staring up into his dark-green eyes, her own flashing defiantly.

  “There you are wrong, Tina.” He held her face between his hands so she couldn’t turn away from his penetrating gaze. “I stole you. Therefore you belong to me and only me. You’d feel better about it if you had some affection for me.”

  “How can you talk of affection, Philip, when you are the cause of my troubles! You know I want to go home, but you keep me prisoner here.”

  “I want you here, and it’s what I want that matters. I only thought that you might be happier if you softened your heart toward me.” He released her and started to leave the tent.

  “And what of you, Philip?” she asked. “What are your feelings toward me? Do you love me?”

  “Love you?” He turned around to face her, and laughed softly. “No, I don’t love you. I have never loved a woman, except perhaps my mother. I desire you, and that is enough.”

  “But that isn’t enough! You can quench your desire with any woman—why must it be me?”

  “Because no other woman has ever pleased me as much as you have.” His eyes roamed her body intimately. “I’m afraid you’ve spoiled me, Tina,” he chuckled, and left the tent.

  The afternoon was hot and sticky. There had been no rain since Philip had returned to Egypt, and their water hole was slowly diminishing. But it had to rain soon; it always did this time of year.