Alex stiffened. “I was at the quarries today. I saw what happened.” Her voice was broken.
His jaw flexed more firmly, the muscles in his face tightening. “Does Jebal allow you to roam about the city dressed as a bedouin?” Sarcasm laced his tone.
Alex’s eyes widened; her heart felt as if it had stopped. Ohmygod, he knew. “No. He does not.”
His eyes suddenly clashed with hers. “And if he discovered your violation of the harem rules?”
She wet her lips. “How did you find out?”
His smile was menacing. “Apparently it is common knowledge, Mrs. Thornton. Or do you prefer Lilli Zohara?”
“You’re angry,” Alex managed, frightened.
His laughter was harsh. “Now, why would I be angry? Why would I mind being deceived? Used? Lied to? Manipulated? By the only American in this country.”
Alex could not believe what he was saying, she could not believe what was happening. “You don’t understand.”
“You are correct. I do not understand. Why don’t you explain yourself and your purposes to me, Alexandra?” His gaze was black. “That is your real Christian name?”
“Yes.” she whispered.
“Well?”
Alex hugged herself. “I could not tell you I was Jebal’s wife. I was afraid of discovery. Afraid, too, that you would refuse to see me if you knew the truth.”
“Did Jebal send you to me?” he demanded.
“No!” she cried, shocked. “Xavier, I swear, he did not!”
“Then why did you come to me? Or are you in the habit of taking lovers under the very nose of your husband?”
“No!” Alex cried.
“It is obviously one or the other,” he said coolly.
She backed up against the wall. “I have been waiting for you for a very long time.”
“What?”
Alex’s mind raced frantically. What was she doing? The truth had been about to roll off of the tip of her tongue. He would never believe her; she was positive of that. “What, exactly, are you accusing me of?”
“I am accusing you of being in league with your husband, of being a seductress sent to entice me to betray my country in a time of war.”
Alex gasped.
He continued to stare. “If you have another explanation for your behavior, then now is the perfect time to reveal it.”
Alex found it extraordinarily difficult to think. The truth. It was the only reasonable explanation she had, yet it was hardly reasonable, it was far-fetched, ludicrous. But she loved him. This was not supposed to be happening.
“I am waiting.”
“I hate Jebal,” she finally said. “He is my husband in name only.” Blackwell’s expression did not change. “I am a captive like you. My choices upon arriving in Tripoli were few. I chose to marry Jebal instead of being consigned to the fate of a concubine or a slave. He has allowed me to grieve for my first husband this past year.” She felt her cheeks growing warm. She thought of Pinocchio, and was surprised her nose did not begin to grow.
“That does not explain why you came to my rooms.”
Alex stared at him, unable to reply.
“I see. Let me guess. It has been a long time. You are a lonely woman, in a foreign land, in the need of ‘comfort.’”
