So he had stopped, although he could have kept right ongoing in a vain attempt to force his unsettling encounter with Leila from hismind. It had never happened before that he took one woman in his arms but couldnot stop thinking about another. It was a most disconcerting preoccupation.
When he smelledRefaiyeh'smusk perfume, he wished it was a far more intoxicating damask rose. When helooked into her dark eyes made liquid with desire, he saw another gaze, one offlashing amethyst filled with fury, disbelief, and spite. When he sank his bodyinRefaiyeh's, he imagined Leila's white, white skin,satiny smooth beneath his touch, and her glossy black hair slipping through hisfingers . . .
Cursing softly, Guy rubbed his eyes as if to dispel thewanton sensory images. God's blood, their journey had yet to begin! He wouldmake his life a living hell if he didn't stop thinking of her in this way.
Like the living hell he had made of Leila's life.
Yes, he had seen that in her stunning eyes, too, but hehad sworn to take her to England, and he could not rescind his vow. A knight'soath might as well be written in blood for its inviolability.
Yet would he allow Leila to return to Damascus and thisJamal Al-Aziz even if he could forswear the vow he had made to EveGervais? No. A Christian woman had no place in that heathencity. It was bad enough that she considered Damascus her home, Syria hercountry, and England nothing more than a pagan land. Hadn't Eve told Leilaanything about her true homeland? He had the distinct impression she had not.
Guy pounded his fist upon the mattress. No, he wasdoing the right thing. Leila would be better off in England, and he was notgoing to question his judgment any further!
"Ah . . . what was that?"Refaiyehasked drowsily, raising her tousled head from his shoulder and regarding himwith half-closed eyes.
"Nothing. Go back to sleep," Guy murmured,kissing her soft cheek. He lifted her limp arm from his chest and rose from thebed, covering her tenderly with the silken sheet.
Truly, he would missRefaiyeh,he thought, drawing on his clothes and sword belt. The young widow had made hislife more than bearable while he'd been in Acre; she had become a friend. Whenhe knocked on her door late last night, dusty and spent from the long ride fromDamascus and with a bedraggled Leila in his arms, she had asked no questions,just ushered them quickly into her home.
Only later, after she had made Leila comfortable, hadthey had a chance to talk. He had described the journey to Anatolia, then hisincredible ordeal in Damascus, and she had shared what information she hadgleaned from the crusaders still lingering in Acre. From her lips he hadlearned of King Henry's death, and that Edward had sailed home to claim theEnglish throne. Yet even with this knowledge, Guy still did not believe Edwardhad left him to die in prison.
His faith had been affirmed this morning when he hadspoken with SimonRenier, a grizzled crusader who haddecided to stay in the Holy Land, having neither lands nor titles to entice himhome. Guy had just bought passage on a ship to Marseilles using some of Eve'sjewels when he felt a heavy hand clap his back.
"By the breath of God, is that you, deWarenne?"
Recognizing the voice, Guy had spun around, a grinspreading across his face when he beheld the stout, red-bearded warrior.
"Indeed it is, friend."
"And all in one piece, I see," Simon said,cuffing Guy heartily on the arm. "Where are Reginald and the others? You'rethe first one I've seen back. Did he decide to stay with the Mongols? I'veheard their women are as wild as yellow tigers and ride naked across thesteppes—"
"Reginald is dead. They're all dead," Guysaid tonelessly, his throat constricted as he realized no one yet knew of hiscompanions' fate.
"Who did this? Where?"Renierblustered, his broad freckled face mottling with rage.
After Guy grimly explained what had happened, the olderknight seemed thoroughly shaken and puzzled. "Lord Edward never receivedany letter of ransom for you, deWarenne. If he had,he would surely have let the rest of us know. He believed all was well withyour embassy to the day he sailed. He even left a message for you."
"What message?"
"He wanted you and Reginald and the other knightsto follow him back to England as soon as you returned to Acre."
If Guy had harbored any uncertainty at all, he knewthen that Edward had not deserted him.
"That was already my plan," Guy said, noddingtoward the docks. "I just bought passage for two aboard that galley."
"Two?"Renierblurted, his pale, blue eyes lit with curiosity. "Will you be taking thatpretty Arab wench of yours home toWarenneCastle?"
"No.Refaiyehhas chosento stay here in Acre. Lady LeilaGervaiswillaccompany me to England."
"Gervais?" the oldwarrior asked, astonished. "Does she share any blood relation with Roger—"
"His younger sister," Guy cut him off dryly.At Simon's expression of complete incredulity, he gave a short laugh. "Howabout a pint of ale, my friend? I'd rather tell you the story in a cool tavernthan out here in the hot sun. Agreed?"
"Aye, though I imagine this tale will warrant morethan a pint, deWarenne," Simon said heartily,shaking his head. "More like a half barrel!"
Refaiyeh'slong drawn outsigh snapped Guy's thoughts sharply back to the present. As she smiled in hersleep, a twinge of guilt tugged at his heart.
He had doneRefaiyeha greatdisservice to dwell so on Leila during their lovemaking. Too bad she had turneddown his offer to accompany them to England. He was very fond of her . . . asfond as he had been of any woman, including Christine, his late wife.
