Lord of Desire

Jafar's mouth curved in a wry twist as, for the first time, he allowed a trace of amusement into his expression. "If I have sunk so low as to consort with the French, especially the man against whom I once swore vengeance, I can take an English wife."

"What do you mean, 'consort with the French'? Are you speaking of Gervase?"

"It seems your colonel wants me to join the Bureaux Arabes."

Leading her to a marble bench then, Jafar sat beside her and told her of Boumiont's proposal, and of his own growing conviction that accepting the offer was the right decision. He was certain he could gain the council's support when he put the question before them.

"So, what do you think?" he concluded. "Would that please you, my heart?''

In response, Alysson reached up to stroke the lean curve of his cheek. She still could hardly believe she wasn't dreaming, that he was truly here, telling her this. "Yes, if would please me . . . it would please me very much. You could do so much good for your people, Jafar, if you occupied a position of authority in the French government. For their sake, perhaps you could put your differences aside."

He gave a soft sigh that held perhaps a trace of bitterness. "It isn't easy to stomach, making peace with one's enemy."

She knew he must be thinking of Gervase. "Do you hate him so much, then?"

"Not so much any longer. And if I am honest, I can admit that much of my hatred stemmed from jealousy.'' Jafar's gaze probed hers. "All this time I thought you loved him."

"No . . . I just didn't want to see him hurt. It . . . it is you I love.''

A moment of silence stretched between them, before Jafar took her hand and drew it to his breast, directly covering his heart. She could feel its steady pulse beating strong and sure. "And I love you, Alysson, so much that I ache with it."

She gave him a long searching glance, a question lingering in her eyes. "If you love me," she asked at last, "then why did you let me go?"

''I thought you would be happier with Bourmont,'' Jafar said simply. "And in any case," he added quietly, "I had to allow you the choice. You had to come to me freely, of your own accord. If I had forced you to remain, I would have been no better than the savage heathen you thought me. Yet I hoped . . . I told myse

lf that if you loved me enough, you would make the decision to stay."

"I wanted to stay, Jafar, but I was afraid—for your sake. I didn't want to come between you and your tribe, to cause more trouble for you. I saw how you were tried for showing mercy to Gervase, and i couldn't bear the thought of harming you further. I still can't. Are you certain your tribe won't object if you marry me? I thought you had to marry for political reasons."

"I still do. But you must understand the Berber concept of politics. Until now I couldn't offer you the marriage you deserved without betraying my duty. But if I ally myself with Bourmont, then my taking you to wife would not be compromising my responsibility as amghar to strengthen our tribal alliances. By Berber law, it is permissible for an amghar to marry outside tribal affiliations, even with an enemy, in order to extend the range of possible allies. Not only permissible, but encouraged. In this case, it would be highly advantageous for me to form an alliance with you, a foreigner who has the ear of the head of the Arab Bureau."

She hesitated. "Is that why you want to marry me, to use me as an alliance?"

She said it lightly, with a hint of exasperation, but Jafar caught the uncertain note in her voice and smiled grimly. "Come here," he commanded brusquely, not waiting for Alysson to obey before pulling her into his arms.

He lowered his head then, taking her lips with a determination that left her reeling and totally reassured. His mouth retained the same possessiveness, the same hot fierceness it always had whenever he kissed her.

By the time he finally ended the kiss and allowed Alysson to draw breath, her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen and tender. Yet she didn't care. She wanted his fierceness, his jealous passion. Indeed, she hoped the savage nature of his lovemaking never changed.

Jafar smiled in satisfaction as he surveyed her dazed expression, his own eyes gleaming hot and dangerous. "I do not kiss my allies like that, Ehuresh, or take them as lovers."

"I should hope not," she said with a small, shaky laugh. "That was . . . very persuasive."

Making a futile attempt to regain her composure, she smoothed the disheveled folds of her gown. Abruptly Jafar's gaze dropped to the neckline of her bodice which demurely covered the swell ot her breasts but left a tantalizing display of silken skin naked to his view. Desire flared up in him swiftly, uncontrollably, as he remembered the taste of those taut peaks, that sweet flesh.

Yet when the increased volume of revelry from the crowded ballroom finally registered, Jafar shook himself. Releasing Alysson entirely—if reluctantly—he eased away so he wouldn't have to touch her and face such temptation.

"I would like nothing more than to carry you away from here, Ehuresh," he said huskily, "to undress your exquisite body and make love to you all night long . . . but I expect it would be best if I first sought out your uncles and gained their permission to wed you."

Having focused on the opening part of his provocative comment, Alysson had difficulty finding the voice to contradict him. "That isn't necessary, Jafar. I don't need my uncles' permission to marry."

"Even so, I would prefer their blessing."

"I expect they will be glad to give it. Their biggest concern is for my happiness. I imagine if you give your word that you won't abduct me again or make me your prisoner of war, they will be willing to accept you as my husband and welcome you into the family."

The lightness of her tone seemed to lift a great burden from Jafar's heart. "I suppose," he returned dryly, "I could swear to behave in a civilized fashion."

"Not too civilized, I hope," Alysson murmured. She didn't want Jafar to change. He was a man as proud and as fierce as the lions that roamed his mountain retreat, untamed and unlikely ever to be tamed. And she wanted him to remain that way. No doubt in the future she would frequently find him arrogant, difficult, possessive, dominating, and entirely infuriating, as she had in the past, but she wouldn't trade that future for all the riches in the world.