He shrugged those impressive shoulders. `No one knows for sure.
Since some time in the sixteenth century, most probably. Or so the experts believe.’
The sixteenth century. Hell!
He didn’t need to spell out the implications. She knew all about the value of ancient treasure. The reverential, almost mystical importance attached to it by tradition. And Q’ aroum, for all its modem gloss, held its traditions dear.
Belle had an awful feeling she was just beginning to understand how important and valuable a ransom had been paid for her life.
The implications made her stomach roil.
She flopped back in her chair, her breathing short and ragged. She fought for calm. For common sense.
`But everyone must realize you didn’t hand it over as a bride price,’
she reasoned. Ìt’s obvious the circumstances are completely different. And there was Duncan too. You paid the ransom for both of us.’
His eyes held hers, and the intensity of his unblinking gaze told her there was no easy way out. Her heartbeat thundered so loud in her ears she had to strain to hear his response.
`That is so. But you mustn’t underestimate the importance of custom to my people. You’ve seen the new town, the wealth invested in education and modem infrastructure. Change is occurring, but Q’aroumis are slow to give up some things such as their love of royal pomp and custom. That’s one of the reasons I remain as head of state though we have a democratically elected parliament.’
He took another sip of thick black coffee with all the ease of a man discussing social trifles. But the hard lines of his face told their own story. This was no joke. He took it completely seriously.
‘The circumstances are incidental.’ His words were brusque. `The fact is I gave up the necklace and I returned with you.’ He shot her a look from under leveled black brows. Its intensity pinned her to her seat.
`To my people it is a simple equation. A bride gift in return for a woman. A ransom for a bride.’
His gaze brushed slowly across her face, igniting a curl of hot sensation deep inside her. As if he’d touched her, caressed her.
And, despite this crazy situation, she couldn’t prevent her instinctive, needy response.
She shook her head in denial. Of his words. Of the fierce, frightening heat building within her. She couldn’t mistake it. It had been there when he spoke of al Akhtar men claiming their women.
Stealing them from the high seas and making sure they never wanted to leave.
Excitement. That was what she felt. And desire.
The appalling realization held her in frozen immobility as she stared back into his piercing eyes.
She didn’t even know this man, yet some atavistic part of her psyche reveled in the idea of being claimed as his woman. Of belonging to him.
Her! A woman who’d made her way against the odds in a man’s world. Who’d learned to be self-reliant at an age when other girls were dreaming of Prince Charming and happy ever after. She knew first hand that happy ever after was the stuff of fiction.
The sound of quick, measured footsteps cut across the thick web of tension enmeshing them. She blinked, had to make a physical effort to drag her eyes from Rafiq’s compelling gaze. She turned to see Dawud approaching, dressed once more in army fatigues.
Immediately she sensed a new tension in Rafiq, though he said nothing, merely waited for the other man to approach.
‘Saba’a alkair, Ms. Winters,’ Dawud said, with a slight, formal bow.
Ì hope you are well rested.’
‘Saba’a alkair, Dawud. Thank you, I’m well. And you?’ His gaze strayed to Rafiq, and she could have sworn some unspoken message passed between them.
Ì am well, Ms. Winters.’ He paused. Ì come with urgent news for the Prince, if you’ll permit?’
She wasn’t sure whose permission he was asking, but she nodded.
He stepped closer and murmured to Rafiq. Ìt is as you predicted, as we feared.’
‘Where? When?’ Rafiq’s voice had a steely edge. `Shaq’ara. Less than fifteen minutes ago.’
Belle watched Rafiq absorb the obviously unpalatable news.
Emotion stripped his face to a mask of brooding severity. One hand clenched on the table. And then, in a single lithe movement, he stood before her.
`Forgive me, Belle. Important as our conversation is, we have something of an emergency on our hands. I must go.’ As he spoke he gestured to Dawud, who nodded in her direction and then turned away, his footsteps quickening.
`We’ll continue our discussion on my return. You will be patient and stay within the grounds until then?’ He phrased it as a question, but it was unmistakably an order.