Devil's Daughter (Devil 2)

“Surely it has been at least a year.” He eased down beside her, stretching his long legs toward the fire. “Life here is different,” he said after a moment. “It has been difficult for me to adjust, even though I spent my childhood years trained as a Muslim.”

“Lella told me that you lived in Europe. I don’t understand.”

“You forget that my mother is Italian, Arabella. She wanted her son to be educated in Italy, and Hamil, my elder half-brother, helped her to convince my father. I spent ten years in Rome and Florence. In that, cara, we are lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

He did not reply immediately, but rather rose and

fetched a thick wool blanket from the tent. He spread it out beside the fire, then sat down cross-legged. “Will you bring your blanket and join me? It is getting cooler and we should share our warmth.”

Arabella eased down beside him, her profile to him. Her hair was dry now and fell free down her back. She felt him staring at her and quickly turned to face him. “You did not answer my question, Kamal.”

He lifted his hand and began wrapping a thick tress of her hair around his hand. “When my mother first told me of the treachery of your parents—no, do not interrupt me yet—I asked her if there were children. I told her that you and your brother were innocent of any wrong and should not be harmed. When I first realized who you were, it was my intention to treat you as an English lady.” He touched his fingertips to her chin and brought her about to face him. “But you were so damned insulting, and there was, of course, my mother’s letter claiming you were nothing better than a whore. I suppose I thought a young lady who had undergone what you had should be fainting or crumpling in hysterics, or pleading with me. To hear myself cursed as a savage, a barbarian, and an animal, well, as I said before, you provoke me to extremes.”

Arabella frowned at him a moment. “I have never fainted or succumbed to hysterics in my life.”

He wrapped her hair about his fist, drawing her closer. He lightly kissed her. “I have always admired strength and courage, but I never expected to find such traits in a woman. Nor,” he added, “did I expect such passion.”

She did not move away from him. “Nor did I,” she said. “Did you know many European women?”

“Yes, certainly. Italy was my home for more than ten years. I grew to manhood there, with many ladies willing to instruct me. Understand, Arabella, when I returned to Oran to assume my half-brother’s duties, I had to conform to what was expected by my people and the Dey of Algiers.”

“Lella said that. She also told me that she did not believe you were happy here.”

“All of us do our duty. There has been much between us, Arabella, yet not enough. It was my intention to humiliate you, you know.”

“Which time?”

“The afternoon I ordered you whipped. I had no choice, yet I knew I was the one to blame, not Elena, who has the unbridled passions of a child, and certainly not you. You bore my venom longer than I would have, had I been you. Of course, your well-placed blow to my groin was a painful reminder for several hours.”

“You make me sound like some sort of Amazon, with nerves of iron. It’s not true, Kamal. I didn’t have the courage to accept my own death to save my parents. When I attacked you with the dagger, my hand wavered. Your death would have meant mine, and I was too afraid to accept it. Even today, I realized I did not want to die, that life was too precious. I’m very much a coward.”

“No, cara, you are not a coward. You are vibrant and full of life. You will not be scarred,” he added, touching her back.

“You stayed with me, didn’t you?”

He looked at her full in her face and traced his fingertips over her arched brows. “Yes. I stayed with you until you were fully aware. I left you, fearing that your hatred of me would make you more ill. I have found that I cannot bear to be away from you. When the guard was discovered last night and I realized what you had done, I knew such fear that I wanted to howl my anger at myself.” He watched her lashes sweep downward to hide her expression from him. Slowly he leaned forward and kissed her, a gentle kiss, undemanding. He felt her surprise; then her lips parted. He allowed himself the deep pleasure of her mouth, then drew back. He saw disappointment in her dark eyes and smiled.

“No. I hurt you and you are still likely sore. I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

“It is the oddest thing,” Arabella said, “but when you touch me and kiss me, I want nothing more than for you to continue. And you always know just what to do.”

“Arabella, I do not wish to discuss this anymore. I am not made of stone.”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

“Because you are here and I love you.”

His words fell between them like a sharp clap of thunder. Arabella’s breath caught in her throat and she could only stare at him. She was aware that her heart was pounding, and she swallowed hard. “Oh,” she said.

Kamal rose gracefully to his feet. He damned himself for a fool. But the words had slipped out. He said, “It is late and you must be tired from your busy day. Come, let us sleep.”

But sleep was the furthest thing from Arabella’s mind. She watched him stride to the small tent and pull back the flap. She sprinkled sand on the dying fire, picked up the blankets and walked slowly to the small tent. It was dark within. “Kamal—”

“Yes?”

“I brought the blankets.”