arms?’
‘No, you didn’t imagine it, but-this place is unreal. I’m not myself here, but somebody else that I don’t know. And if I don’t know who I am, how do I know what I have to give you?’
Looking into his face, she saw that he didn’t understand a word. For all his western ways, Ali was still part of a culture where it didn’t matter who-or what-the woman was, as long as she pleased the man. Fran’s ideas about giving herself in freedom had no meaning for him.
‘Ali, please try to understand,’ she begged. ‘This has to stop. It’s been wonderful but-it’s time for me to leave.’
To her dismay, his face hardened. ‘That is for me to say.’
‘But it’s madness to think we can go on like this. Can’t you see that-?’
‘I see only that it’s for me to make the decisions. I will not be dictated to by you or any other woman.’
‘You said if I tried to leave you you’d never forgive me,’ Fran cried in desperation. ‘Well, I tried. So where does that leave us?’
‘It leaves you exactly where you were before,’ he said in an iron voice. ‘Subject to my wishes. Did you imagine my anger would make me send you away? Don’t think it for a moment. If we’re enemies, that would make another reason for keeping you here. Do you understand me?’
The cold implacability in his face made his meaning all too clear. Fran shivered.
‘I offered you a life as my favourite, honoured by everyone, including myself. And you threw it back in my face,’ he said coldly. ‘Beware lest you find that the life of a discarded favourite is even less to your liking.’
‘That’s all you understand, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘The language of force.’
‘Diamond, I have no wish to quarrel with you. I prefer to think of this as an aberration, best forgotten on both sides. I said that I would not forgive you, but I do, because I can’t help myself. Let us put this behind us, and return to that world where we are one.’
‘I don’t think we can ever return to that world,’ she said sadly. ‘It didn’t really exist.’
She wasn’t sure when he’d moved towards her, but suddenly he seemed very close, dominating her by his sheer intense vitality. Fran tried to step back from him but she couldn’t move. When he touched her she trembled.
‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t…’
‘Don’t ask me not to touch you, when touching you is all my joy. Don’t ask me to believe there is no joy for you in my touch.’
‘I have never denied it,’ she said huskily. ‘But there has to be more…or there is nothing…’
He silenced her by laying his fingers lightly on her lips. The touch burned her. She turned her head away but he laid his lips against her neck.
‘There is this,’ he murmured, his breath scorching her.
She tried to protest but the sensation aroused beautiful memories, and she had to fight not to succumb to them.
‘Ali-no,’ she pleaded. ‘There’s so much still to say-’
‘But we are saying it,’ he murmured, lifting her and carrying her to the bed.
He undressed her and himself quickly. Fran tried to fight her own sensations, but her body had changed since yesterday. Now it was a body that had known him in the bittersweet intimacy of passion. It had responded to him as to no other man, and as it never would again. It flowered for him. It loved him.
Her mind might be full of anger and despair, but his caresses made her want to weep tears of happiness. And he seemed to know it, and used his knowledge shamelessly to make her acknowledge him as her king, as she never would do in words.
When he began to kiss her breasts she arched helplessly against him, seeking the skilful movements of his tongue. As she felt him give what she craved the heat seemed to rise up and engulf her, melting resistance.
His hands caressed her everywhere, finding her intimately before he moved over her to claim her deeply. At the moment of union she sighed, and even she could not have said whether it was a sound of joy or anguish. She loved him so much, and she’d discovered her love in such heart-rending circumstances.
When he had left her, he did not turn away, but held her close, prolonging the intimacy of loving.
‘You see,’ he whispered, ‘how it can be with us- how it must always be; you must never leave me- you belong to me.’
At the word ‘belong’ her mouth tried to shape the word ‘no’, but only silently. And what use was a word against the burning, joyful affirmation of her flesh.
He continued to hold her warmly, until the heat and the physical contentment overcame her and she slept in his arms. But even in sleep she was troubled. Ali’s loving had been beautiful, ecstatic, but she knew in her heart that it had also been another assertion of his power. He had demonstrated that he could subdue her, not through his desire, but through her own. She was as much a prisoner as ever.
When she awoke he was still there, regarding her tenderly.
‘I told you once that I would only be satisfied when you yielded to me completely, in your heart as well as your body,’ he reminded her. ‘When you said that you were mine for all time and desired only to remain with me. Say it, Diamond. Let me hear you say the words, and swear that they are true.’
She looked up at him from the pillow in despair.
‘I will never say those words, Ali.’
She wept as she spoke, because her heart told her that it was true. She loved him beyond reason, loved him so much that she was engulfed by him. But she must resist her love and never, ever admit it to him.
He scowled as he heard her. He could see the glisten of her tears, and they caused an unfamiliar pain in his breast. But that was something he must conceal.
He rose, and turned away from the bed, hiding from her. Her power over him must be resisted and never acknowledged, lest she unman him. He had threatened her with his wrath, but then forgiven her. She would despise him, because no woman respected a man who allowed her to rule him.
There was a noise in the outer tent. Swiftly Ali pulled a robe about him and went out. Fran heard muttered voices. Then Ali’s voice rose in command. A moment later he was back with her.
‘We are returning to the city,’ he said. ‘There is a message to say that my mother is on her way home. I would like to be there before her, to show my respect.’
‘Where has she been?’
‘In New York. Hurry now.’
The flight back over the desert at night was magical. Far below them lights gleamed out of the velvety blackness. Gradually they went lower and lower, until the landing on the palace roof. Fran was escorted back to her apartment by a guard of honour that had mysteriously doubled in size since last time.
Ali’s secretary greeted him with the news that Princess Elise had already arrived. He went straight to her apartments.
The princess was an elegant woman with snowy white hair and a beautiful, fine-boned face. She had been born in London, sixty years ago, but now she looked every inch eastern royalty. She rose and greeted Ali with open arms, and a brilliant smile that made her face young again.
‘My son!’ she said warmly.
He hugged her with enthusiasm. ‘You look younger every time I see you. Did you enjoy your trip?’
‘Yes, it was very satisfactory. You will find the fruit of my work in there.’ She made a gesture towards a desk on which several files lay. ‘I hope you’ll approve of what I have done.’
‘When have I ever questioned any decision of yours? Put business aside for the moment and let me look at you.’
He stood back, holding her at arm’s length until he was satisfied. Then he grinned and hugged her again.
‘You look remarkably well for a woman who’s just flown all the way from New York,’ he observed.
‘Actually, I took a little detour to London. I seem to have arrived just after you left. And while I was there I heard some strange stories about you.’
He laughed and settled himself on the sofa, accepting the drink she offered him. ‘People talk. When have I ever worried about that?’
‘Perhaps you should have worried a little more. The servants in your house didn’t know how to answer my questions. They shuffled their feet and tried to get away, until I had to be very firm. Now tell me about this English
