“Touché, my sweet. I give you this round gladly. Why don’t you wash up so we can stop this ridiculous banter and get some rest?”
“Whatever you say, master. But as long as I no longer look like a lady, I see no reason why I should act like one.” She untied her robe and let it drop to the floor. Slowly the rest of her clothes followed.
“Now what the hell was that remark supposed to mean?” Philip asked.
“Oh—nothing,” she teased, then she began to scrub her body from head to foot. She knew that Philip was watching her. And, surprisingly, it didn’t bother her in the least. She had been shy about undressing in front of Philip before, but now she enjoyed what the sight of her body could do to him.
“Christina, perhaps you’d better wash in the other room.”
He sounded annoyed, and she could guess the reason. “But why, Philip?” she returned innocently. “I’m almost finished, and you can always close your eyes if you can’t stand to look at me.”
She heard him groan, and suddenly she was angry with herself for teasing him. A month, even a week ago, she would have enjoyed having Philip at her mercy. But now she just wanted him to get well. She wanted to feel his arms around her again.
After drying herself, Christina let her hair down and gave it a few quick strokes before coming to the bed.
“Christina, wait. I think it might be best if I slept on the couch for a few days—until this blasted pain goes away.”
She looked hurt for a moment, but then her expression changed to one of determination.
“You will do no such thing. If anyone is going to sleep on the couch, it will be me. There’s no point in your moving after you’re already comfortable.” She went to his chest and took out one of his robes to sleep in.
“Christina, I will not have you sleeping out there alone!”
“You’re in no condition to argue with me.” She slipped the robe on and tied it about her waist, then began rolling up the long sleeves. “Now relax and get a good night’s rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Will you?”
She turned and looked at him tenderly. “Is that what’s bothering you—that I will run away during the night? Shame on you, Philip. It would hardly be fair of me if I escaped now, while you’re incapacitated. Besides, I don’t trust your damn desert. I give you my word that I’ll be here in the morning.”
“Is your word any good?”
“Oh, you’re impossible! You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to find the answer to that. Now, good night.”
With that, she left the bedroom and curled up on the lonely couch. Well, at least it was comfortable. Damn, she didn’t want to sleep here, she wanted to sleep in the bed with Philip. But he was right, of course. She might hurt him during the night, and she didn’t want that. She wanted him to get well as soon as possible.
Everything was changed now that she knew she loved Philip. She could no longer fight him or deny him anything. But how could she explain her change of attitude without telling him of her love? Perhaps he would believe her grateful for her rescue. Yes, he might believe that. Then again, he might not even wonder.
But after she gave in, what if he tired of her because he’d won the game? No—Philip wasn’t like that. He must care something for her or he wouldn’t have come to rescue her. Christina couldn’t stand it if he sent her away now. She didn’t even care that they weren’t married. She only wanted to stay with Philip.
Perhaps they would have children. That would bind them together. A child—a son! That would solve everything, for Philip couldn’t send away the mother of his son. Life would be so wonderful!
IT SEEMED TO Christina that she had been running for an eternity. The miles flew by, she reached no destination. All she could see was sand—everywhere she looked, just sand and a monstrous sun beating down on her. But behind her was death, and she had to escape. Her legs ached terribly, and they felt apart from her body. Her chest hurt with every gasp, but death still chased her. She had to run faster—she had to get away! She heard death call her name. She looked back, and fear engulfed her, for he was getting closer. The sweat of fear broke out on her body. He called her name again and again, but she kept running, praying for some miracle to save her. The man’s voice was getting louder as he kept calling her name. She looked back again. Dear God, he was right behind her, his hands reaching out, and then she saw his face. He was that horrible man who’d beaten her, and now he was going to kill her. Philip! Where are you!
“Christina!”
She sat up suddenly, her eyes wide open and frantic. But she relaxed when she saw the familiar surroundings of the tent.
A dream, she laughed—a stupid dream. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead. Damn, but it’s going to be hot today.
“You stupid fool. You should have known better than to trust her.”
Christina wondered whom Philip was talking to. She quickly got up and walked to the bedroom. When she opened the curtains she saw Philip sitting on the side of the bed, trying with great difficulty to put his pants on.
“What the devil do you think you are doing, Philip? You shouldn’t be sitting up yet,” Christina scolded him. She glanced about the room, but saw no one. “And whom were you talking to just now?”
Philip stared at her with surprise written all over his face, than it changed to anger. “Where the hell have you been?”
“What?”
