“Are you all right?” he said cautiously. Was she crying because of the inexcusable way he had manhandled her? He had the terrible feeling that she was not acting now.
“No. I am not all right. I am very upset.”
“I’m sorry.” He realized that he meant it. She was a woman, in spite of everything, and no woman deserved such treatment. “I am sorry.”
“It’s too late,” she said.
“Alexandra …”
“No!” She faced him, hands on her hips, her eyes blazing. A single tear rolled down one cheek. “I don’t even know you! I have no idea why I even like you—or want you! A single paragraph in a history book and look at me, I am a stupid, besotted idiot! Well, I think I just figured out that this is not a romance novel. You’re a typical chauvinistic son of a bitch, aren’t you?” She swiped at her eyes. “I think I hate you.”
Her words frightened him even more than his reaction to having held her in his arms. For a moment he was unmoving. He should not care if she despised him, but he did.
“I am not coming to visit you again. You can rot for all that I care.” She shoved past him and outside of his small cubicle.
He did not know how to respond, so he just stood there, staring. Feeling far more grief than before.
Giving him another bitter glance, she strode toward the stairs and down them to the courtyard, where Murad was waiting for her. The torchlight outside played over the strands of her very red hair, which were escaping the loosened ends of her headdress.
He watched her marching with long, hard, not particularly feminine strides across the courtyard. Many slaves were sleeping, but others were turning to look at her. Xavier grimaced, filled with unease. She had not fixed the ends of the kaffiyeh upon leaving his cubicle. She was crossing the courtyard with her features visible for all to see.
Murad reached her, pulling the ends of the long headdress up and around her face. He was berating her, Xavier could tell. His heart beat thickly.
Then Xavier watched her lean against Murad, burying her face in the crook where his neck met his shoulder. Murad put his arms around her and held her. They stood unmoving in one another’s embrace like that for a long moment. Xavier thought that she was weeping.
He was ashamed of himself. He was consumed with guilt. And he was supicious—jealous—of the slave.
He watched them break apart and leave.
“I have been looking for you,” Zoe said.
Alex had just changed. Zoe had not knocked. She had barged right into Alex’s room, and now stood glaring at Alex from the threshold. Alex was alone. Murad had left to get her something to eat and drink—although Alex had no real appetite, not unless it was for a gallon of Columbo fudge swirl.
She was overwhelmed with what had happened in the bagnio. She was furious, hurt, and shaken to the quick. One thing was clear. Xavier was a macho bastard—and he lusted after her the way the heroes lusted after the heroines in Alex’s romance novels. But that was all. He had no feelings, was incapable of emotions, of love.
And she did not think she could take much more of this predestinedloveaffair.
Alex needed to see Zoe now like she needed a hole in the head. “Really? Don’t you believe in knocking, Zoe?”
“Where have you been this evening, Zohara?” Zoe asked in a falsely sweet voice. She sauntered into Alex’s room, not responding to Alex’s question. “Hmm?”
Alex was filled with dread. “What I do is none of your business.”
“Do you have something to hide?”
“Of course not,” Alex said tersely. “Zoe, I am tired. Please leave. If you want to speak to me, we can do so in the morning. Although I can’t imagine what we could possibly have to talk about.” But Alex knew exactly what was on Zoe’s mind. Yesterday Alex had accused Zoe of drugging her.
“I can.” Zoe paced forward, her eyes blazing. “You lied. You lied to Jebal. We both know that I did not poison your tea and put you to sleep on your anniversary!”
Alex wet her lips. She tried to keep her face impassive. “I don’t know that, Zoe. Someone drugged me. Let’s be honest, shall we? We both know how much you hate me. Who else would want to keep Jebal and myself apart?”
“I did not drug you,” Zoe almost shouted. “I told Jebal as much!”
Alex’s pulse raced. “And did he believe you?”
Zoe smiled, not nicely. “Now, why would I reveal that to you?”
Alex stood straighter. “Fine, Zoe. The battle lines are drawn.”
