Текст книги "The Desert Blooms "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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She experienced a thrill of happiness. It was time to move out of the dream into reality, and she was ready for it. She whirled around in a circle, hugging the gown to her. Oh yes, she was ready for it.

Philip didn't join her for dinner that night. She was standing on the balcony perhaps fifteen minutes after her tray had been taken away, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach, when she heard the closing of the door.

"Come in and let me look at you." Philip was standing in the doorway of the balcony as she turned. He was dressed in white. Superbly fitted white trousers clung to his narrow waist and slim hips, and his white, long-sleeved shirt was fashioned of a material that glowed with a soft, silky luster in the darkness. "I waited too long. It's too dark out here to see you."

"I was wondering if you were coming at all," she said lightly as she moved toward him. "You didn't show up for dinner."

"I learned my lesson the last time," he said. "I had only two days of anticipation to go through before that first night, and I nearly went crazy. I would have been tempted to toss the tray off the balcony tonight."

"Me too."

He went still. "You mean that? I was afraid you'd think I was rushing you."

"Well, a little, maybe." She smiled teasingly. "Tomorrow was the day for Hannibal's arrival."

"It still is." He drew her into the room and shut the balcony doors behind them. "This is still a Khadim night. I promise you. Stay here while I turn on the light."

He was gone, a pale ghost in a darkly shadowed room. Then the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the darkness as he turned to look at her.

"Oh yes," he said after a long moment. "I knew you'd look like that in the gown. The richest of wine and the most shimmering of silver-gold. There's nothing more beautiful on the face of the earth."

"I love it," she said. "It makes me feel like a princess."

"Every bride should feel like that." He was moving back to stand before her. "And that is a bridal outfit, Pandora." He cupped her face in his two hands. "Why not take advantage of it?" His lips were hovering near hers. "We could be married tonight. Why don't we fly to Marasef and get the formalities out of the way? You know you're going to do it anyway."

"Probably," she said huskily. He was so near. The warm scent of spice and soap was enveloping her, and his eyes were almost mesmerizing.

"Not probably. It's a certainty." His fingers were on her shoulders, kneading the flesh through the supple brocade. "Haven't you kept me dangling long enough?"

"I wouldn't play games like that. It's just that it's so important that I be sure."

"Yes, I know." His teeth nipped gently as her lower lip. "I wish I didn't. It would be so much easier just to rush you off your feet." He chuckled. "Well, there's one way I can whisk you off your feet."

He suddenly picked her up and carried her toward the bed, his face alight with laughter as he looked down at her. "I'm giving you fair warning. By morning I have every intention of wresting that promise from you." He laid her down in a flurry of cranberry brocade. "I'm going to be such a very seductive Khadim that you're never going to want to do without me again."

"That's no challenge. I don't want to do without you now."

His face was beautifully tender as he gently brushed back a lock of hair from her face. "Then you realize how simple everything is. Neither one of us will be without the other from now on. Turn over, love, and let me get you out of this thing."

She rolled over on her stomach. "It's not a thing, it's beautiful." She heard the hiss of the long zipper and then felt a breath of cool air on her naked back. She heard him inhale sharply. "I see you don't believe in wasting time either." His palm reached out to cover the smooth curve of her buttocks. "Lord, that's pretty."

"I told you I didn't play games."

"Then I'll have to teach you. Certain games are very enjoyable." He was deftly slipping her arms out of the sleeves. "I'm sure you'd be better at them than you are at mahjongg."

"I'd have to be," she muttered. "It's an idiotic game anyw—" She gasped as she felt his warm lips at the hollow of her back. When she got her breath back she asked, "Is that a fair move?"

"If you like it." His teeth gently nipped the soft flesh below the hollow. "Tell me what you like and I'll make up new rules as we go along."

"You always do," she said with amusement. "Ouch!" That bite had been decidedly more punishing than the last. "You did have dinner, didn't you?"

"No." The lightness was completely gone from his voice. "I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep last night. Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever going to be able to do either again." His hands were running up and down her back in long, caressing strokes, savoring the silkiness of her flesh. "I'm tired of keeping

things light. I don't feel light, dammit! I feel serious as hell."

He was lifting her, turning her over on the rumpled cranberry brocade. She was startled when she saw the intense look of hunger on his face. "No seduction?" she asked softly.

"I'm trying." His gaze was traveling over her, finally fastening on the soft golden nest of her womanhood. "It's never been so difficult with any other woman." He lowered his cheek and rubbed it against her belly. The slight abrasion caused her muscles to contract, and her hands went involuntarily to his shoulders. "It was a game with them. Skill against skill." His warm breath was searing her. "I want to make it so good for you and I'm afraid I'll foul it up." Her heart was pounding wildly, and she felt a burning begin between her thighs. "This means something to me."

"It means something to me too." Her heart jerked as his lips moved against her in the most intimate of kisses. "Philip!"

"You're so sweet here," he said as his hands cupped her gently. "But then, every part of you is sweet. Do you know how beautiful you are?"

Her hands clenched on his shoulders, her nails digging into the silk of his shirt. "Yes. No. What did you say?" His tongue touched her, and she arched up against him with a little cry.

He raised his head. "I love to hear you cry out like that, but it makes it hard as the devil to hold on." He lowered his lips to kiss her hand, which was still clenching desperately at his shoulders. "But it bothers me that you seem confused about how lovely you are. I think we should clear that up once and for all." He stood and pulled her to her feet. "Come on." He propelled her across the room, Ignoring her confusion as he whisked her into the Khadim suite.

"Philip, I don't understand—" She broke off. They were before a floor-length triple mirror that was standing upright against the wall. The lamps were off in the suite and the only light was that streaming from Philip's room. It came as a little shock to see her own slim nudity offset by Philip's fully clothed figure behind her.

"I remembered how excited you were in the dressing room." Philip's arms slid around her waist. "I thought you might like this." His hands slid down to slowly massage her belly. "The night I had it installed I lay in that bed just looking at it, imagining how you'd look standing here surrounded on three sides by mirrors. Do you know what that did to me?" He lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "I was hurting so much that I wanted to run to you and bury myself in you and stay forever. I've ached like that every night since then." One hand had left her and begun to unbutton his white silk shirt. She could see the tanned flesh and the dark triangle of hair on his chest emerging from the opening in the shirt, and her eyes clung helplessly. The hard, impersonal sheen of the glass contrasted with the intimate picture it was reflecting and the explosive emotions seething between them.

"See how pretty you are." His hand was tanned and graceful as it moved up to cup her breast, surrounding and lifting it. "This is what I see when I look at you. All this sweet firmness." Hepinched the pink crown with thumb and forefinger. "This lovely budding."

"I feel distinctly narcissistic." She laughed shakily as she leaned back against him. "I think I'm embarrassed." The hair on his chest brushed her naked spine and her knees began to feel as if they wouldn't hold her up.

"You shouldn't be." His hand dropped away from her as he shrugged out of his shirt and it dropped to the floor. "Are you embarrassed looking at me?"

"No." He was a beautiful shadow figure, his supple bronze muscles silhouetted by the light, which also picked up the luster of his coal black hair. "I like to look at you."

"Then we'd better make things more equal." His hands were working swiftly at his belt. She watched dreamily as he stripped off the remainder of his clothes, tossing them in a careless heap on top of his shirt. "There, now we're even. Does that make you feel better?"

She didn't know how she felt. Electricity was arcing through her, swirling about her. His hands were running over her, pausing every now and then to stroke, weigh, twine, and rub with sensual enjoyment. Her breath was coming in little jerks as her gaze clung to the mirror reflection of his narrowed eyes.

She could feel his hard arousal pressed against her, and his chest was moving heavily with the harshness of his breathing. His hands suddenly stilled on her body, and she could feel the shudder that wracked him. His lips were a thin line of tension. "It's gone on too long. I can't wait any longer."

"Then don't wait." Her voice was trembling. Her entire body was trembling. "I can't wait either. Let's ... go to bed."

He made a sound deep in his throat. "I can't wait for that either." He suddenly spun her around, lifting her, parting her legs, and wrapping them around his hips. "Hold on to me." He was searching, finding, and then plunging with one deep stroke into the heart of her.

She cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He was moving, his hands cupping her bottom for even deeper penetration. "Closer," he muttered. "I can't get close enough to you." His hips bucked rhythmically, and she bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan. He lifted his eyes to the mirror. "Mine. You're mine." His hips moved again. "Say it. Pandora."

"Yes," she whispered. So full. Fire, sensation, an aching need for more.

One hand lifted to tangle in her hair and tilt back her head so he could look into her eyes. "You're going to belong to me forever. There will be no more talk about going away." His lips covered hers with a passion that contained an element of leashed savagery. His tongue entered, ravaged, possessed. She was possessed, a part of him, both physically and emotionally.

His head lifted and his nostrils flared in an effort to get his breath. "I'll never let you leave me now."

His arms were about her again and he was turning, walking toward the bed. She gasped. He looked down at her with a faint smile. "You like this? I thought you would." He sat down on the edge of the bed. His hands ran up and down her back, touching, exploring, savoring the smoothness of her. "You always did enjoy a good ride."

He was lying back on the bed, his hands on her hips. "Do I remind you of Oedipus now, love?" Then he was moving, thrusting, watching her to detect every ripple of pleasure that crossed her face. "Do I?" he repeated.

"No." The tension was building to such a fantastic degree that she scarcely realized what she was saying. "You're wilder." He thrust deeper, and a shiver of pleasure ran through her. "Much wilder."

"I told you that you didn't really know either one of us." His palms moved up to cover her breasts. "But you're learning fast. Hold on, love, we're going for the jump."

The approach was dizzying, and the jump itself incredible. They soared into the stratosphere and beyond. Exhilaration, beauty, reaching for the sky. Then they owned the sky as no one ever had before.

Her cheek was pressed to Philip's chest and his arms were holding her with such force she could scarcely breathe. His heart was pounding so hard it seemed to be trying to burst through the wall of his chest. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He laughed. "That's what I'm supposed to ask." He kissed her gently. "Yes, I am most certainly okay. I've never been better."

She suddenly giggled. "I'm sure that's true, but it's immodest of you to say so." She started to move out of his arms. "I'm too heavy for you. Let me go."

"No." His grip tightened around her. His tone was suddenly intense. "Stay. Stay forever."

"That might be a little awkward for you." She bent down and kissed him lovingly. "Though I'd be more than willing."

"I'll have to think about it." He rolled over, still holding her close. "There has to be a way."

She nestled nearer, her cheek finding the hollow of his shoulder. This deep contentment was almost as wonderful as the passion that had gone before. "I like this. The night of the dinner party you held me like this, but I fell asleep. Pinch me if I do it tonight. I want to enjoy every moment."

Tenderness swept over him, and he felt his throat tighten painfully. He hadn't realized how much he had missed her joyful eagerness. There had been an underlying element of reserve and uncertainty about Pandora since the night of the accident. He had been unable to overcome that withdrawal, no matter how hard he tried. He brushed his lips across the top of her head. "I refuse to pinch you, but I promise I'll find ways to keep you awake." His hand reached up to stroke the curve of her cheek. "Very enjoyable ways."

"That sounds nice, but you'll have to be pretty quick about it," she said drowsily. "I can't seem to stay awake for long these days. Maybe I should get some vitamins."

"What a demanding wench. I'll try my best to oblige." His index finger smoothed her brow. "And I'll stuff you so full of vitamins you'll be even more demanding ..." He paused. "When we get back from Marasef tomorrow."

A wedding in Marasef. At this beautiful moment it appeared wildly appealing. "You have superb timing. I'd fly to the moon with you if you asked me right now."

"Marasef will do. Raoul will have them ready the plane as soon as we wake in the morning."

"Why do I feel the invasion has already started?"

"No invasion. I'm wooing you," he said with indignation. "Can't you tell the difference? You can't deny that my wooing was successful tonight?"

"No, I can't deny it," she said quietly. "But we both agreed that sex wasn't love."

His hand moved from her cheek to tilt her chin up. "That wasn't sex, that was love. You know it as well as I do. If you're not sure that I love you now, what makes you think you'll be sure next week or even next year? We could be candidates for geriatric care before you decide to take a chance on me again. Why don't you admit—"

"All right."

He frowned. "All right what?"

"All right, I'll marry you. Marasef seems like an ideal place. I'll wear my bedouin wedding robe and—"

He stopped her with his lips, and when he lifted his head his eyes were glittering like turquoise beneath the sea. "You won't be sorry. I promise you, you won't be sorry as long as you live."

"I don't think I will." Hope was growing, along with a wild joy. She had kept that hope firmly suppressed in the past weeks, afraid that it would never be fulfilled. Now she felt as if it had unfurled like a bright banner within her. "Oh, Philip, I do love you so much." She hugged him with all her strength, pressing quick, loving kisses on hisentire face and throat. "I feel like swinging from a trapeze, or dancing, or belting out a gospel song."

He was laughing helplessly, and in that moment he looked almost boyish. "You don't need vitamins. But I may, if I'm going to keep up with you. I can't supply you with any of those amusements, but if you'll hush, I'll try to give you an alternative."

"What alternative?"

"One you appeared to like very much before." He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. "In short, I'm ready to oblige my very demanding wench."

She grinned as she snuggled against him happily. "Well, why didn't you say so? That's more fun anyway. What are we going to do this ti—"

Her question was lost as he began to demonstrate.

Nine

It was late the next afternoon when the limousine pulled into the compound. The desert heat was oppressive, as it always was at that time of day, but Pandora was barely conscious of it. "Does Raoul know that I'm now an official thorn in his flesh?" She jumped out of the car before the driver could come around to open the door. "Do you think hell quit and leave in a huff? That would be terrible, wouldn't it? You'd probably divorce me." She went into Philip's arms as Philip got out of the car. "Wasn't it nice of Alex Ben Raschid and Sabrina to give us that lovely luncheon? I like them so much, don't you?"

He chuckled as his arms went around her. "Pandora, you're a bundle of energy. You've been running in high gear ever since we left for Marasef this morning."

"I'm happy," she said simply, her face glowing radiantly. "So happy. I feel as if the whole world is spinning like a beautiful pinwheel. My pinwheel."

He was silent for a moment, his face buried in the hair at her temple. "It's yours, if you want it," he said gruffly. "If you want the whole damn world, I'll find a way of getting it for you." He drew back and smiled with rare gentleness. "What do you want, Pandora?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Why should I want anything more?" She made a face. "Except, perhaps, Raoul's blessing. Did you tell him we were going to be married today?"

Philip motioned for the driver to leave and took her elbow. "Yes," he said as he propelled her up the steps. "And youll be astounded to know that he didn't give notice immediately. He said he believed that he had become accustomed to the catastrophes that surround you, and he would, on no account, desert me in my time of need." His eyes were twinkling. "I think he regards you as his greatest challenge."

"He likes me," Pandora said cheerfully. "Hell get used to the hullabaloo in time." She stopped on the top step, a sudden frown creasing her brow. "You're not going to want me to change, are you? Are you going to expect dignity and serenity now that I'm the lady of the house?"

His brows lifted. "Dignity and serenity from you? Hardly. I'll immediately have you committed if you develop either of those qualities. The best I can hope for are brief interludes in between the storms."

Her expression was clouding. "Am I that bad? I don't want to make life uncomfortable for you. Perhaps I could try to—"

He held up his hand. "Don't try. Like Raoul, I've become accustomed to living in the middle of a tempest. I'd probably find serenity hellishly boring after the past weeks." There was a teasing glint in his eye. "I demand even less of my wife than of my friends." He waved his hand magnanimously. "If you wish to bring another cobra into my salon, feel free."

"Well, now that you mention it, I've been wanting to talk to you about Beldar and Hanar. Don't you think we could—"

The door swung open.

"Saved in the nick of time," Philip said in an undertone as Raoul stepped aside to allow them to enter. "Though only temporarily, I'm sure."

There was a warm smile on Raoul's face. "May I offer my most sincere best wishes?" he asked as he closed the door behind them. "I've put a magnum of champagne on ice. I thought that would be in order."

"Thank you, Raoul." Pandora gave him a brilliant smile. "Champagne would be very fitting." Her eyes were sparkling with mischief. "See, I do recognize proper decorum every now and then."

"Recognizing is not performing," Raoul said with a tiny smile. "But then, the wife of Sheikh El Kabbar will not have to obey rules. She can make her own. It is for you to decide what is fitting." He bowed slightly. "Will you have dinner in your suite or in the dining room?"

"Neither." Pandora turned eagerly to Philip. "Let's ride up into the hills and have a picnic. I can't

stand being cooped up anymore. I haven't been out of that room for two weeks, except to go to Marasef today."

"Why not?" Philip smiled indulgently. He released her elbow and turned to Raoul. "A picnic supper then. Phone the stables and have our horses saddled in about thirty minutes." He turned back to Pandora. "We are going to take time to change out of our bridal finery?"

"You look wonderful in white," she said idly. The faultless tailoring of his white suit gave his lean, powerful body an elegant panache. "I hate for you to take it off."

His dark eyes were limpid as he gazed at her. "I assure you, I'm looking forward to it exceedingly."

There was a sound from Raoul that was halfway between a chuckle and a cough. He turned away. "I'll make the arrangements at once," he said with sedate dignity. He abruptly turned back with a frown. "I'm extremely sorry. It completely slipped my mind. Dr. Madchen is waiting in the first-aid room. He's been there for over an hour."

"Really?" She felt Philip stiffen beside her, and she smiled reassuringly. It was sweet of him to be so protective, but not even an encounter with her father could dampen her spirits today. "Did you tell him why we were in Marasef?"

"Yes, of course." Raoul's lips tightened. "I also told him it was a most inconvenient time for an examination, but he insisted. He's going away to Munich on vacation tomorrow and wants to tidy up all the loose ends."

A loose end. How like her father to describe her in those terms. For an instant Pandora felt a familiar twinge, but instantly dismissed it. "Well, we wouldn't want to mess up his neat, tidy schedule, " she said with careful lightness. "I'll see him, of course. Perhaps you'd better tell the grooms it will be an hour instead of thirty minutes."

"You don't have to see him," Philip said quietly. "I'll go and explain that it's not a good time. He can see you when he comes back."

She shook her head. "I'll tell him I don't have time for a complete examination. Maybe if I let him see how well I look, hell be happy with a token checkup." She smiled. "It will be fine. The world's my pinwheel today. Remember?" She started down the hall in the direction of the first-aid room. "I'll meet you in the suite when I've finished."

Karl Madchen was sitting at the desk in the first-aid room, a cup of tea in his hand, his gaze on the medical journal on the blotter before him. He looked up abstractedly as she came into the room. "Good afternoon, Pandora. Sit down on the examining table. I'll be with you as soon as I finish this paragraph."

The pinwheel slowed slightly in its giddy spinning, as if the wind had suddenly lessened.

She lifted her chin and moved decisively across the room. She hopped on the table, smoothing her cranberry brocade skirt against the sterile dark blue plastic. "Sure, take your time." She swung her feet idly as she glanced around the room. It looked as sterile as the examining table on which she was sitting, and she felt a sudden chill.

Her father was rising from the chair and crossing the room. "That's a very pretty dress," he said, "but I'm afraid you'll have to take it off. I want this examination to be fairly complete, since I'll be away for over a month." He took a stethoscope from the drawer of the cabinet beside the table. "My assistant informs me you're fully recovered now."

"I am. I feel wonderful," she said brightly. "So there's no need for a complete exam. I just came to show you how well I'm doing." She paused deliberately. "And to receive your best wishes. I was married today."

"Raoul told me. Congratulations. That was quite a coup. I would never have suspected that a person of your impulsive nature would have had the patience to plan a maneuver like this."

Congratulations, not best wishes. The pinwheel design was visible now, the movement sluggish. "Maneuver?"

"Is the soreness completely gone?" He picked up her wrist, his gaze on his watch as he took her pulse. "No more bleeding?"

"No, not since the night of the fall."

"Are you experiencing any lack of energy or nausea?"

"No nausea. I've been very sleepy lately." She smiled. "I thought I'd ask you for some vitamins."

"Yes, of course. I'll leave a supply of multivita-mins and iron tablets here in the cabinet. However, the drowsiness would have passed shortly even without them."

"I would have thought I'd be completely over the shock by now."

"Oh, you are. You're fully recovered from the accident. The drowsiness is merely because of the child."

"The child?" she repeated with numb lips.

He was reaching into a drawer and extracting a blood pressure gauge. "You may experience some morning sickness during the next month. It's not uncommon during the second and third months of pregnancy. I'll leave you pills for that as well." He glanced up with a frown as he unrolled the bandage. "I do wish you would permit me to give you a thorough examination before I leave Sedikhan. Sheikh El Kabbar was most concerned about the safety of his child. I wouldn't like him to think I've been derelict in my duty."

The pinwheel shuddered to a stop. It didn't matter. It was suddenly only a tawdry toy anyway.

"He was concerned?"

"Of course." He was rolling up the long sleeve of her gown, not looking at her. "We both know how possessive the man is. Naturally he would be worried about his first child and heir. Why else would he rush you out of your sick bed to ensure the child's legitimacy?"

Breathtaking agony. "No reason that I can think of." Her voice was almost steady, she noticed. How odd, when the world was crumbling all about her.

He was winding the pressure gauge around her upper arm. "It was clever of you to play upon his possessiveness to get what you wanted. I was surprised to hear that the sheikh had decided to—"

"Shut up!" Her voice wasn't steady any longer. It was shaking with an agony and a wild rage that seemed to fill the universe. "I don't want to hear anymore!" She jumped to the floor, fumbling with the gauge on her arm. "Go away. Go to Munich, or go to hell. I don't care which." She had at last gotten the bandage off and she threw it on the floor. "Just stay away from me!"

She was running toward the door, trying to escape the cold, sterile room. Not that there was any place to run. The rest of the world was cold and sterile too. Tears were blinding her, and she didn't see Philip until she ran into him in the hall just outside the door. His arms closed around her, steadying her. "Whoa! You always go at everything full steam ..." The smile faded as he looked down into her face. "Pandora?"

She tore herself away. "Damn you. Damn you to hell, Philip!" Her eyes were blazing in her white face. "I could kill you." Then she was running down the hall away from him.

Philip's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He muttered a vicious oath as he threw open the door to the first-aid room.

Madchen was kneeling to pick up a pressure gauge that lay on the floor, appearing as impassive as ever. "You told her," Philip said with barely controlled ferocity. "You told her, dammit."

"Not intentionally. Naturally I thought she'd know by now." Madchen rose to his feet and straightened his spectacles. "It's been over two weeks, and I thought surely you would have discussed the birth of the child. How else could she have persuaded you to marry her?"

"Persuaded me?" Philip drew a deep breath and tried to control the rage that was flowing through him. He wanted to murder the son of a bitch. "No,I hadn't told her yet. I was going to do it in the next few days. But you blew it. You blew it to hell, didn't you?"

"I'm extremely sorry. If I'd known, I assure you I wouldn't have—"

"You don't have the emotional capacity even for regret, Madchen," Philip bit out. "Get the hell out of Sedikhan. Don't take a month, take six months." He turned on his heel. "By then I may be able to look at you without wanting to strangle you. It's not likely, but there's a possibility."

The door slammed behind him.

* * *

Pandora didn't look up from her packing as Philip came into the room. She had changed into jeans and a yellow tunic top, but her feet were still bare. The brocade dress was tossed into a silken heap on the bed beside the open suitcase. "You can stop packing," Philip said. "You aren't going anywhere."

"Don't worry. I'm not taking any of your expensive bribes," she said jerkily. "I'm only taking what I came with. I'm sure you have no use for an orange wig." She sat down on the bed and began to put on her white tennis shoes. "And it might come in handy for me."

"You're not going anywhere," he repeated grimly. For the first time she noticed he had changed from his white suit into black riding pants and a black sweat shirt. The somber color accentuated his air of menace.

"The hell I'm not." She tied the lace of the second shoe and stood up. "I'm going far and I'm going fast. If you don't want me to use the plane or the car, I'll walk." She slammed the iid of the suitcase shut and fastened it. "Or hitchhike."

"You're upset. I know that. Will you please listen to me?" He came toward her. "I don't know what your lovable father said to you, but I'm sure it was expressed in the worst possible terms. He has a talent that way.'

She whipped around to face him, flags of color suddenly flying in her pale cheeks. "He didn't try to present it any way at all. He just told me the cold facts. I'm going to have a child. Too bad neither one of you thought to inform me."

"There were reasons. If you'll calm down, I'll tell you what they were."

"I know what they were. I thought that you might be feeling sorry for me, but it was more than that, wasn't it?" Her eyes blazed up at him. "I was carrying your child. That made all the difference. You couldn't let me leave once you knew that. It would have offended your every instinct."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said roughly.

"Don't I?" She smiled bitterly. "I thought your about-face was a little too good to be true. I guess I wanted to believe it so desperately that I let you convince me. You were very plausible, Philip. I swallowed the big lie without even batting an eye."