Jebal turned to Paulina and reached down and lifted her to her feet. The beautiful Italian instantly pressed against him. Her breasts were all but spilling from the tiny beaded vest she wore. Her expression was amorous.
“You may go now, Paulina,” Jebal said, his tone soft. “You have pleased me greatly today.”
Paulina smiled, obviously happy. “Are you certain that you wish to send me away?” she asked archly.
Jebal’s gaze flickered down her body. “In truth, I have no wish to send you away, but my second wife needs to be chastised.”
Alex was already stricken with tension. Now her mouth became completely dry.
Paulina gave Alex an odd look. It was partly sympathetic—and partly triumphant. “Good night, then, my love. Ieagerlyawait your next summons, Jebal.”
Jebal smiled, obviously taken in by Paulina, and watched her strut to the door. When she was gone his smile disappeared. He folded his arms and stared coolly at Alex.
“You aren’t wearing the necklace I gave you last night,” he remarked abruptly.
Alex jerked, her hand flying to her throat. “I was in a rush,” she managed. “There was no time.”
“I expect you to wear it whenever you come to me,” he said.
Alex wet her lips. Glass and paste. Tomorrow she would have a replica made. “Yes, of course, as you wish.”
Jebal faced his sumptuous private gardens through the grand stone archway leading to them. Beyond his motionless figure, a single star had popped out in the fading blue sky. A final band of pink arched over the sparkling, ink-colored sea. In a few more minutes night would have descended, black and sparkling. “There was an accident at the quarries today. Many slaves were killed,” Jebal said abruptly, facing Alex.
Alex froze. She was taken by surprise, Jebal had changed the subject so swiftly—raising a topic that she would have never expected. “I heard,” she finally said slowly.
He stared at her. “An American was killed.”
One of thePearl’screw. This Alex also knew. Her pulse pounded. “I heard that, as well. You know how fast news travels in the palace.” She licked her lips, well aware of how closely Jebal was regarding her. Was he testing her? Did he know something? Was he suspicious of her loyalty? Alex chose her next words as carefully as she could. “It is wrong, Jebal, for those innocent men to be incarcerated like animals, and cruelly worked to death.”
“It is our way. Someone has to labor in the quarries. Should we send our own people? Or the captives?” he demanded.
“You have sent my people,” Alex whispered, then instantly regretted her words.
He strode to her, seized her arm.“Your people?This is the second time you have said such a thing to me! But are you not one of us now, Zohara? Are you not my wife?”
“Yes,” Alex whispered. If he exerted any more pressure, he would bruise her. “I embraced Islam, I made my wedding vows, I am your wife,” she cried.
He flung her off. “Is it the Americans you are so concerned for, or their captain, Blackwell?”
Alex was terrified. She kept her face expressionless but was afraid the fear showed in her eyes. “I am concerned for every captive in Tripoli.”
“Such a warm woman. And did you enjoy our special celebration last night?” Jebal demanded with heavy sarcasm.
Alex was frozen. Was this the same man she had known this entire past year? Whom she had dined with, laughed with, and entertained with stories? His gaze was cold and almost cruel. He was very angry.
“You know I did not,” Alex said softly, very shaken by his unrelenting tone. “Jebal, I know you are angry, but …”
“I am very angry,” Jebal interrupted. “Angry enough to have considered divorcing you.”
Alex was stunned. And when her mind began to function again, she tried to decide if this would be in her best interest. She would wind up a concubine or a slave—sold to God knew whom. And she and Murad would be separated. She would not have any power, or Murad as an ally, and Blackwell would escape without her … Dear God. She would be left behind in Tripoli, a captive without means, never to see Blackwell again.
“Please don’t,” Alex heard herself say tersely.
Jebal stared.
Her entire fate seemed to hang in the balance. Alex spoke carefully. “I care for you, Jebal, I do. You have been very good to me, and very kind. But I am an American woman. Americans give their women more freedom to chose whom they wish to wed. It has been so hard for me becoming a Moslem, and a wife here in Tripoli.Istill yearn for my first husband.” She was aware of how forcefully her pulse was pounding. “I want to become a good wife to you, I do,” Alex concluded, lying desperately through her teeth. One thought loomed in the back of her mind,escape.She had to escape very shortly. Otherwise she was caught between a rock and a hard place, trapped there by Jebal.
Jebal did not respond.
