Captive Bride (9 page)

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Authors: Johanna Lindsey

BOOK: Captive Bride
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"You wouldn't like sleeping on the floor, Tina. It can get very cold here at night, and you'd better have the warmth of my body next to you. Winter is coming soon!"

"Better to suffer with the cold than with your advances," she replied tartly. She tried to run past him.

"You didn't feel that way last night, Tina," he said. He caught her in his arms and threw her roughly over his shoulder.

She struggled fiercely as Philip swiftly crossed the tent and tossed her onto the bed.

"I think it's time I taught you a lesson, Tina. You're a very passionate woman, even though you refuse to admit it!"

Christina fought him furiously while he tried to remove her clothing. Amid her kicking and useless struggles, she spat curses at him that he had never dreamed a lady would know. He finally managed to pull her blouse over her head, and the skirt followed easily. He quickly dropped his own clothing to the floor and pinned her to the bed with his body.

"Your language certainly doesn't befit a lady, my sweet," he laughed. "You must tell me sometime how you acquired such an outlandish vocabulary."

Christina made one last effort to push him from her, then changed her tactics and lay perfectly still beneath him.

Opening her mouth with his, Philip kissed her intensely, but felt no response from her. So—she was playing at a new game, he mused. But she wouldn't be able to hold out for long.

Moving to her side, Philip brought his lips down to her full breasts, sucking and teasing each one in turn. He moved his hand down over her belly until it rested between her legs. Gently his fingers moved back and forth across her soft flesh until she moaned with passion.

"Oh, Philip," she breathed. "Take me."

Philip mounted her. Her arms encircled his neck, and she met his kisses eagerly. He entered her slowly, then rode her fast and hard until their passions exploded, sending them soaring into ecstasy.

 

 

 

The dawn came slowly for Christina. She had slept fitfully through the night, awakening fully with the tent still in darkness. Now, as the daylight slowly illuminated the bedroom, Christina stared boldly at the man who had robbed her of her will last night.

Christina had fought desperately to quell the urgings sweeping through her body as Philip caressed her, but she couldn't resist his touch. She had surrendered to him completely. She had begged him to take her.

What has he turned me into? Christina thought angrily. I was like a bitch in heat the way I wanted him.

She let her eyes roam over the length of his naked body. He was perfectly formed: lean, muscular, and powerful. She studied his face: so rugged and handsome when he was awake; boyish and charming when he slept. His black hair curled softly at the nape of his neck, disheveled by the night's sleep. Philip looked like the Prince Charming she bad childishly dreamed of, but his character was that of the devil!

Suddenly Christina was startled by a deep voice.

"Abu," the man said. "I only just learned of your return. Wake up!"

A tall man of slight build that Christina had never seen before entered the bedroom, but he broke off when he saw her.

The man looked at Philip, who was just coming awake, and back at Christina. A wide grin slowly spread across his dark features as Christina jerked the covers over her, ashamed at being seen in bed with Philip.

"A thousand pardons, brother. I did not know you had married," he said innocently. "When did the happy event take place?"

Philip sat up on the side of the bed and glowered at the man.

"There has been no wedding, as I am sure you already know. Now if your curiosity has been adequately appeased, will you kindly leave my bedroom?"

"As you wish, Abu. I will wait and have the morning meal with you," he replied. He grinned as he swung around and left the room.

Cautiously Christina came out from under the covers and turned to Philip.

"Who was that man?" she demanded angrily. "How dare he enter your bedroom like that? Am I to have no privacy here?"

Philip stood up and stretched lazily. He donned his tunic and trousers and sat down on the bed to pull on his boots.

"Will you answer me, damn it?" she flung at him.

Philip turned around to face Christina and chuckled at her anger.

"This won't happen again, my pet. That was my half-brother, Rashid, and this was just one of the games he plays to annoy me. My bedroom is the one place you may be assured of privacy—except from me. Now get dressed," he said, picking up her clothes and handing them to her. "He's waiting to meet you."

As he walked from the room, Philip didn't see the tongue Christina childishly stuck out at him. Brother indeed, she thought while she dressed hurriedly. How many more surprises am I expected to endure? Now I have his brother to contend with—another barbarian, no doubt.

She brushed the tangles from her hair and tied it back with a piece of lace she'd cut from some Philip had given her. Christina wished she had a mirror but was not about to ask Philip for one.

Both brothers were seated on the couch eating the morning meal when Christina opened the curtains. They're so uncivilized that they can't even stand up when a lady enters the room, Christina thought. She crossed the tent to stand before them.

"I am Rashid Alhamar," Philip's brother said, his eyes roving over her body from head to foot. "And you must be Christina Wakefield."

She nodded, picked up a piece of bread, and sat down on the opposite couch.

Except for his height, Rashid didn't look anything like Philip. He was much darker in complexion, with black hair and brown eyes. His face was boyish, almost effeminate, with smooth, soft skin, where Philip's was rugged and heavily bearded. Philip was broad and muscular, but Rashid was actually skinny.

"Your brother has posted a very large reward for your safe return, Christina," said Rashid. "I have heard that he and his men search for you among all the caravans and desert tribes."

"And pray tell, do you wish to collect that reward, Mr. Alhamar?" Christina inquired icily.

The question brought a scowl from Philip.

"There will be no more talk of a reward," Philip said to Rashid, his voice heavy with malice. "I will tell you once only. Christina is here to stay because I wish it. As head of this tribe, no one will question me about her. She is my woman and shall be treated as such. And you are never to enter my bedroom again."

Rashid laughed. "Nura said you were being overly protective of this one. I can see she was right. Nura is jealous of your new woman, you know. She always hoped to become your wife herself."

"Ah, women," Philip shrugged. "I never gave Nura any reason to hope for marriage."

"But she is just like all the other young women of the tribe. They all want your attentions." Christina thought she heard envy in his voice.

"Enough talk of women," Philip replied sourly. "Where have you been, Rashid? And why weren't you here when I returned to camp?"

"I was in El Balyana, where I heard of a large caravan stopping. It was there that I learned of Christina's disappearance. The caravan was two days late in arriving or I would have been here to welcome you back."

Taking a small sack from the inside of his robe, Rashid opened it and poured the contents on the table.

"This is the reason I waited so long. I knew where they would be hidden, so it was quite easy to steal them."

Christina's eyes opened wide as she saw the magnificent jewels roll onto the table. There were huge diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and other precious stones that she didn't recognize. But the most beautiful stone was a huge ruby shining with many blood-red facets. The ruby alone was truly worth a king's ransom.

"Of course, since you are head of the tribe, they are yours," Rashid said reluctantly.

"What would I do with a sack full of jewels?" Philip laughed. "I have no need for wealth here, nor do I wish it. You may keep the jewels, since you went to the trouble of stealing them."

"I hoped you would feel that way, Abu." Rashid scooped the jewels back into the sack and hid them in his robe.

"I just hope you use the gems wisely," Philip said. "Have you been to see our father yet?"

"I will go see him now. He became very ill a few months ago. Maidi pulled him through, but he has not been strong since. I fear he will not live long," Rashid said flatly.

Philip saw his brother out and stayed at the entrance staring into the camp. What kind of man was he, Christina wondered, that he could so casually hear that his father was dying? What kind of man could turn away a fortune in jewels as if they were ordinary stones? Would she ever understand this man who had made her his mistress? Did she want to understand him?

Slowly Philip turned around, raising both hands to brush back the hair that had fallen into his face. Christina could read the sadness in his dark-green eyes.

So—he did feel pain after all. Suddenly she wanted to go to him and put her arms around him. She wanted to wipe away his sadness. What was the matter with her? She hated him. Besides, he would only laugh at her.

"I think it's time you met the people of my tribe," he said quietly, crossing the tent to stand before her. He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face to his. "That is—if you have nothing better to do."

"My sewing can wait," she replied.

Philip's hand dropped to her tiny waist as she stood up. They were standing only a few inches apart, and his nearness made Christina's pulse beat warmly. She felt herself melting, losing control. She hated his effect on her. She had to say something to break the mood between them.

"Do you wish to go now, Your Highness?" she said sarcastically.

"There is no Highness here, Tina. I told you to call me Philip." His hand tightened on her waist

"Yes sir, Your Highness," she returned demurely.

"Enough!" he roared. "If you want me to turn you over my knee and wale the vindictiveness out of your hide, then you may persist. Otherwise, go put your slippers on."

Christina didn't wait around to find out if Philip would carry out his threat. She scurried into the bedroom and, finding her slippers under the bed, donned them quickly and came back into the main room.

Philip, with a hand on the small of Christina's back, escorted her outside. They stopped at the first of the tents to the left of theirs.

"Said, are you there?" Philip called from outside.

"Come in, Abu. You do me honor to visit my home," a short, sturdy man said, opening the entrance of his tent.

When they entered, Christina saw that the whole family seemed to be present. The women were on one side of the tent: one kneading dough, another on the floor feeding a baby, and an older woman preparing meat. The men sat on the opposite side cleaning their rifles and an assortment of knives.

"This is Christina Wakefield," Philip said to the group at large. They all stared at her. "Christina, this is my old friend Said, and his wife, Maidi." He motioned to the old woman preparing the meat. "Maidi takes care of my father, now that he's ill, and also prepares our food. The young woman on the right is her daughter, Nura."

Christina's eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful dark-haired girl who looked no older than she. She thought she saw hostility in Nura's eyes, and remembered she had hoped to become Philip's wife.

"And the young woman with her babies is her sister-in-law, Amine."

Christina returned the smile of the dark, pretty girl who seemed to be in her early twenties. She was the one who had brought their food yesterday and whose skirt and blouse Christina was wearing. Perhaps Christina could become friends with her if given the chance.

"These are Maidi's sons—Ahmad, Saadi, and Syed, Amine's husband," Philip finished.

Each of the sons nodded in turn. Christina recognized Ahmad and Saadi as the two young men who had helped Philip kidnap her. Syed was Philip's age and had a long scar running down his right cheek.

"I am very pleased to meet all of you," Christina said.

"It is we who are honored to meet you, Christina Wake-field," Said returned, smiling warmly at her. "I can see why Sheik Abu went to so much trouble to bring you here. You have a most unusual beauty."

"You flatter me, Said, but I—"

Philip cut her off. "It was no trouble at all, as Ahmad and Saadi can attest to, but Christina still has to meet your brothers, so we'll be going." He pushed Christina from the tent

"I understand. Another time perhaps," Said called after them, looking disconcerted.

Christina turned on Philip with her hands on her hips, eyes flashing angrily.

"Why did you cut me off like that?" she demanded.

"You'd better lower your voice if you know what's good for you, Tina. I wasn't teasing when I warned you that we beat our women for showing disrespect," Philip said harshly. "I cut you off because you were about to say that you were here against your will. Everyone here already knows that. But if you had said so in public, it would have been an embarrassment to me. A good lashing is probably just what you need to tame you down." Philip grasped her shoulder roughly.

"No!" Christina gasped, pulling away from him. "I'll be good, I—I promise!" she said frantically, her whole body trembling.

"Christina, stop it," Philip demanded softly. "I'm not going to beat you now. You haven't pushed me that far yet."

He took her in his arms and held her tenderly until she stopped shaking. She would never be able to comprehend this man. One minute he threatened to beat her, and the next, he was holding her with tenderness and love.

Love? Why did she think of that? Philip didn't love her. He only wanted her. And love and wanting were as different as night and day. She could never hope to leave this place unless his heart softened toward her and he let her go, as his father had released his mother.

"Are you all right now, Tina?" he inquired huskily, lifting her face up to his.

"Yes," Christina replied softly, without opening her eyes.

He took her then to meet Said's two brothers and their large families. Christina noticed that all the young women watched Philip with longing in their eyes. So Rashid was right, she thought They had all hoped to win Philip's attentions before he brought her all the way from England to flaunt in front of them. They all must hate her—and Nura most of all.

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