"Your mother said it was your birthright that youshould have a Christian marriage. A home and family in your true country, toquote her exactly. Perhaps that explains Lady Eve's motives."
Stunned, Leila remained silent as everything suddenlybecame clear in her mind. Terribly clear.
It was the marriage. It had to be. Her mother did notwant her to wed Jamal.
That would account for Eve's unhappiness during thepast weeks, the haunted look in her eyes, her hesitation in sharing news of thewedding date, her tears. And now it accounted for Leila finding herself in thisdreadful predicament. Well, she would not stand for it!
"Whatever my mother's motives, she was in error,Leila stated coldly."I have no desire whatsoeverto go to England with you or anybody else, and I certainly have no wish toallow a brother I have never known to decide my fate. Why would I possibly wantto leave the country of my birth for your barbaric land? Damascus is my home. Ihave been very happy there. Jamal AI-Aziz is to be my husband. I demand yourelease me at once so I might return—"
"Your desires, wishes, and demands are of noconcern to me," Guy said with little emotion. "It is to your mother'sI have sworn."
"What do you mean?" Leila asked, feelingapprehension at the grim set of his jaw.
"I made a vow to Lady Eve that I would see yousafely to England and your brother, RogerGervais,and so I will."
"No," Leila breathed, her heart beginning torace. "This cannot be happening . . ."
"My oath is sacred. It cannot be undone. If, whenwe reach England, your brother grants that you may return to Syria, then so beit. That decision is not for me to make."
"No!" Leila cried. "You do this againstmy will. You are kidnapping me!"
Guy shrugged dispassionately. "Call it what youlike, my lady. Tomorrow we sail for France, the first leg of our journey. Ihave bought you some new clothes. I will bring them to you later when you havecalmed down." His gaze fell to her beautiful breasts, for the coverlet hadfallen into her lap. His desire to caress her smooth flesh was overwhelming,and he decided it was best he leave. "You certainly can't travel likethat. It will be hard enough protecting you from the shipboard rabble withoutyour displaying yourself for all to see."
Leila glanced down at her sheer bodice and then back athim, feeling her cheeks grow red with fury.
"For the last time, I tell you I won't go withyou—"
"And for the last time, my lady," Guy said ashe strode to the door, looking at her over his broad shoulder, "I say youwill!"
He left the room, slamming the door behind him so hardthat she couldn't possibly misunderstand the vehemence of his words.
Leila heard a bolt slide across the door, and thefinality of it proved too much for her. She looked frantically around the room,along the floor, at the sparse furnishings, searching for anything with whichto pound on the door. She found it in the small copper table next to the bed.
Springing from the mattress, she seized the metaltabletop from its wooden stand, paying no heed as the crystal water gobletcrashed to the floor. She ran to the locked door and began pounding wildly,screaming,"Damn you, deWarenne,let me out! I won't go with you! I won't, I won't! You can't do this to me!"
She shouted and hammered until her ears rang with thenoise, but still no one came to the door. Exhaustion finally swept over her andshe crumpled to the carpet, overwhelmed with despair.
Ah, how cruelly kismet had turned against her! Now shewas the prisoner, the unwilling captive.
God help her, what was she going to do? Everything wasslipping like desert sand through her fingers . . . her hopes, her dreams, thebright, perfect future she had envisioned as a respected physician and wife toJamal Al-Aziz.
"No. You can't just stand by and let thisbarbarian ruin your life," Leila whispered to herself. "Think, Leila!Think! There must be something you can do."
She slowly raised her head and spied the two highwindows covered with intricate wooden grillwork on the opposite wall above thebed. The bright sunlight outside seemed to beckon to her, a promise of freedom.
A flicker of hope kindled within her. If she couldreach the windows, maybe, just maybe . . .
Chapter 9
Guy breathed inRefaiyeh'smusk perfume as she slept in a state of contented satiation, her voluptuous,body nestled against him. Though he himself was not wholly satisfied, theaching fullness in his loins had been eased. There was nothing like anger tofuel a good bout of lovemaking.
YetRefaiyehhad nothing todo with his anger.
She had been preparing Leila's food tray when he foundher in the kitchen, and she had seemed to know instantly what he wanted. AftershooingHayatoutside into the walled garden, she hadsmiled seductively at him, and that was all the invitation Guy had needed.
He had taken her right there on the lacquered kitchentable, rocking it so violently that grapes, figs, and olives had bounced frombowls and tumbled onto the tiled floor.
Guy smiled wryly. After that, he andRefaiyehhad retired to her private bedchamber where theyhad rutted and sweated until she had cried out she would have nothing left fortheir last evening together if they did not stop.
