Penny Jordan Tribute Collection. PENNY JORDAN

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Penny Jordan Tribute Collection - PENNY  JORDAN


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think I wanted this?’ Furiously she tried to push him away, but his hands curled into her shoulders, hauling her against him to lie defeated against the hard wall of his chest, her heart pounding in terror as his mouth swooped, capturing her defenceless lips and subjecting them to merciless plundering as they closed stubbornly against him. Relentless pressure forced them to part. Above her his eyes glittered as harshly as the pitiless sun in the sky, reminding her that soon she would be gone; that soon he must receive Faisal’s letter and then there would be no more moments such as these…. Then she would never know the harsh mastery of his embrace….

      As though someone had murmured ‘Open Sesame’ her body yielded, melting against him, her fingers curling into the warm darkness of the hair matting his chest. He muttered something, the blood beating up under his skin, and then she was crushed against him, moulded to his body, her mouth parting willingly to allow him full licence to savour its inner sweetness.

      She neither knew nor cared what she was betraying; all that mattered was this moment, this stolen sweetness, which she would cherish for the rest of her life, the feel of Raschid against her bitter-sweet as she acknowledged that only passion stirred him. It stopped her in her tracks. Appalled by her response, she tried to push him away, her fingers trembling against bruised lips.

      ‘Let me go!’ She backed away, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes as she slid her swimsuit straps back over her shoulders. While she was unable to deny the cathartic effect of Raschid’s lovemaking, he seemed completely unmoved by the incident. He leaned his long length against a stone pillar, his smile cruel as he surveyed her distressed state.

      ‘Why the charade?’ he asked coolly. ‘You invited, I accepted. Not to have done so would have been churlish, as I’m sure you will agree.’

      She invited! She had done no such thing. She told him so, half stammering with anger.

      ‘No? You weren’t hoping I would succumb to your charms and agree to your betrothal to Faisal? Wasn’t that the whole purpose of your visit?’ His lip curled. ‘I am not a complete fool, Miss Gordon. If that was not the reason for your momentary acquiescence, then what was? I doubt my nephew would be very pleased to learn of the methods you adopt to gain my approval. What was in his letter, I wonder, to force you to such desperate measures? He wouldn’t be growing tired of you, would he?’

      ‘If he had I’m sure you would be the first to know about it,’ Felicia parried, her mouth dry. So he had not heard from Faisal, but she had no doubts that his behaviour was deliberately designed to humiliate and denigrate her into giving in and returning home. She was only surprised that he had not tried bribing her into giving Faisal up, but perhaps treating her in this way afforded him some sort of satisfaction. Punishment for daring to aspire to marriage to a member of his family.

      ‘One more thing,’ he cautioned as she turned away. ‘You will not run crying to Zahra of this. I do not want her birthday spoiled.’

      Had he so little opinion of her that he thought she would do that, knowing how much Zahra thought of him?

      She let a little of her scorn show in her voice.

      ‘We have a saying, evil be to him who thinks evil. I wouldn’t dream of hurting Zahra. I’ve grown very fond of her.’

      ‘An emotion which plainly does not extend to include me.’

      His audacity took her breath away. What did he expect when he treated her like some amoral gold-digger?

      ‘An emotion which could never extend to include you,’ she retorted. Never, never must he be allowed to think her momentary surrender sprang from anything other than a calculated intention to win him round to her cause. She could only hope that before he discovered that that cause had been lost long before she responded to his kiss, she would be gone, and she would not have to endure his amused contempt when he finally realised the truth.

      During supper Zahra was rather subdued. Raschid had been particularly scathing about her harem outfit, she told Felicia, adding that she found her uncle changed of late, less inclined to show humorous indulgence, his temper sharper.

      ‘When I asked him why Faisal could not come home for my birthday, he really snapped my head off. He and Faisal have never got on,’ she admitted. ‘Raschid thinks Faisal should be more conscious of his duty.’

      A duty which no doubt included marriage to a girl of his own kind, Felicia thought wryly.

      DESPITE THE laughter at the breakfast table Felicia felt as though a lead weight were attached to her heart. She had barely slept, tossing and turning, almost at one point ready to go to Raschid and tell him that she wanted to leave, but always the thought of his contemptuous indifference held her back, making it impossible for her to confess that he had been right and she wrong.

      Zahra had been thrilled with her perfume, and Felicia’s thoughts turned automatically to the unopened bottle in her drawer. One day, when her heart was less tender, she would open it, and the scent would bring back memories of that dusty alley and the feel of Raschid’s hands on her skin.

      All night long she had battled with her pride, and at last in the soft pearly light of the false dawn had admitted the truth. She loved Raschid. Only he had the key to awaken her dormant emotions, to draw from her a response she had never thought herself capable of giving. To no other man had she reacted as she did to Raschid. For no other man had her body quivered with deep, aching need, which overcame all her fears of rejection, built up during her lonely childhood. Raschid had the power to make her forget every single consideration but the overpowering need to satisfy the throbbing hunger his touch awoke within her.

      Now she could admit that what she had felt for Faisal was merely gratitude for his attention to her. She had accepted his kisses without being stirred by them, thinking her lack of response sprang from some coldness in her nature, but Raschid had proved once and for all that this was not true. With Faisal she had always been passive, content to follow his lead, but in Raschid’s arms she knew a longing to be consumed by the fierce passion of which she knew instinctively he was capable. Those fires would never burn for her. She knew that now, and every instinct for self-preservation warned her to flee before Raschid discovered her vulnerability.

      She closed her eyes, her face pale, startled when Nadia asked anxiously if she was all right.

      All right! She smiled hollowly. She doubted if she would ever be ‘all right’ again, but since she could not say so she smiled weakly and brushed aside Nadia’s kind concern.

      The fortress owned by Saud’s family was a huge pile of stone perched grimly on a rocky outcrop and commanding excellent views of the surrounding countryside—a reminder of the days when his forebears would have lived by preying off unwary travellers or other tribes daring or desperate enough to cross their territory.

      Here the old ways still held sway. They drove in under a formidable stone gateway and the women were led to a side entrance, barely discernible. Following Umm Faisal’s example, Felicia removed her slippers as they entered the dark cavernous hallway.

      Saud’s mother came forward to greet them. The traditional Arabic welcome and prayers for a long and healthy life were exchanged. The visitors were led to opulent cushions spread about the room, Felicia’s muscles protesting a little as she tried to imitate the grace of the others.

      In addition to Saud’s mother there were various aunts and cousins, all of whom had to be introduced to the visitor from England, although Felicia was aware that their real interest was, quite naturally, in Zahra.

      It was Nadia who whispered to her that to mention the marriage before it was a fait accompli was to put the ‘evil eye’ upon it, but there was no mistaking the value of the expensive gifts they pressed upon a blushing Zahra.

      One of the women, obviously very old, commanded Felicia to come forward.

      ‘That is Saud’s grandmother,’ Nadia whispered. ‘She has seen six sons die in defence of their country, and even His Highness puts great store by her advice.’

      Felicia could well understand why.


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