Darker Side of Desire & the Sheikh's Pregnant Prisoner(21)

His business responsibilities kept him very fully occupied. Claire learned from Zenaide that it was Raoul and the Sheikh who had been responsible for the intensive reorganisation of the education system, so that girls as well as boys could benefit from the wealth that oil had brought to the small state.

A conference in London necessitated his leaving for that capital at the end of their first week of marriage, and as she watched him leave, Claire couldn’t help wondering how he would spend his nights when he was away. She had no illusions. Any number of beautiful women would be only to glad to sleep with Raoul, even without the added allure of his wealth.

As yet there was no evidence that she might be carrying his child, and Claire was glad that she had stipulated that they were not to live as man and wife. Raoul was cynical enough to be perfectly able to make love to her without caring about her, but her frail spirit was already too overburdened to be able to take the strain of a relationship with too much love on one side and none on the other.

After a morning spent on the beach, Claire returned with Saud to the palace for lunch and then a sleep. She had found herself falling into the pattern of sleeping in the afternoon when the sun was at its hottest, and today she felt particularly tired. It was a steep walk down to the beach, and as she walked back up she visualised Raoul’s Moorish ancestors carrying their human prizes back up to the palace—young European girls destined for the slave markets of the East, vast amounts of gold and precious jewels from Spanish galleons, fair-haired, fair-skinned girls stolen from the English coast. How would she have felt had she been in their shoes?

She shuddered, putting Saud down as a wave of dizziness made her cling to the solid support of the cliff face. She must have walked up the path too quickly, she chided herself when the world had righted itself and Saud’s plaintive cries reminded her of his presence. He beamed when she picked him up, proudly displaying his two new teeth. Poor Saud, who had lost both mother and father, and who for all the wealth he would one day inherit was a pauper indeed when it came to the riches of love.

There had been no more visitors to the palace, and Zenaide had explained that it was normal to leave newly-weds alone for one full month after the marriage ceremony.

‘Blessed is the bride who can tell her family at the end of that time that she carries her husband’s child.’ She blushed rosily, glancing at Saud who lay kicking on the bed, revelling in the freedom from his nappy, and Claire guessed what she was thinking. Zenaide, at least, did not doubt that Saud was her child.

Once again Claire ate alone. She had found her appetite diminishing since their return from Paris. The heat seemed to sap her energy despite the efficiency of the air-conditioning installed in the palace. She was often lethargic and dull. She needed some activity to occupy her mind, she acknowledged. If she had really been Raoul’s chosen wife she could have approached him with the problem. There must be many areas in which she could help. He had mentioned entertaining various representatives from other countries and Claire knew from Zenaide that he had an apartment in the city in one wing of the Sheikh’s palace. She was not used to inactivity.

She picked up the letter she had received from her godmother, wincing as she read of her pleasure in her marriage. If only she knew the truth! Sighing, Claire folded the thick paper, suddenly remembering Teddy’s unanswered letter. Where on earth was it? She must write to him telling him that it would be impossible for him to come out and stay with them. She would do it first thing in the morning, she thought to herself as she prepared for bed.

The night was hot, even the thin silk of her gown uncomfortable against her skin, sleep somehow eluding her as she tossed and turned in the wide bed. Where was Raoul now? Who was he with?

She tensed as she heard Saud cry. He didn’t normally wake up during the night, and Claire listened to his cries for several minutes, warning herself that it would be foolish to go into him, but when they persisted she flung back the covers of her bed, pulling on a silk robe and hurrying through into Saud’s room.

The panda which was his favourite toy was on the floor and Claire bent to pick it up guessing that it had been the cause of the commotion. Saud had seen her and crawled eagerly to the bars of his cot, grinning at her in the darkness. It was as she kneeled in front of him, the panda in one hand, the other steadying herself, that Claire first heard the noise. No more than a soft slither, it sent such a shudder of dread through her that she couldn’t move. Saud chuckled, obviously thinking he was participating in some new game, his chuckles turning to wails of protest when she didn’t move.

The room was so dark. If only she had switched on the lamp when she came in, Claire thought feverishly, trying to shush Saud, her ears stretched for that slithering sound which she prayed and hoped had been nothing more than a figment of an overworked imagination. But no… There it was again. Louder this time, closer, relentless. Perspiration broke out all over her body. Dear God, there was a snake somewhere in the room with them. Numbly, she tried to remember what Zenaide had told her about local snakes. There were several varieties, one particularly deadly, but how could she remember which was which? She couldn’t even see it and even if she could, she was so panic-stricken that she doubted she could have told the difference between a rattlesnake and a common grass-snake.

Saud was trying to drag himself to his feet using the cot rails, and Claire froze as she heard the sibilant slither again. The thing was in Saud’s cot, tangled up somewhere among his covers. A scream clawed at her throat but she suppressed it, her whole body trembling as she straightened slowly, not knowing where the danger lay, expecting with every second to feel sharp fangs biting into her skin—hers or Saud’s! He was sleeping dressed only in a nappy because it had been so hot, and Claire felt as chilled as though she had been standing in an Arctic wind as she visualised the thing in the cot with him. Even now as he struggled to stand, beaming at her in the semi-darkness, it could be positioning itself to strike.

The pictures conjured up by her mind were too much for her. Not giving herself time to think, Claire darted towards the cot lifting him out. He whimpered in fright as though sensing her terror and as she clasped him against her, Claire heard another blood-freezing sound from his cot. It was too much. Trembling all over, she opened her mouth and started to scream, weak tears of terror pouring down her cheeks. The bedroom door was flung back on its hinges, the light blinding her as it snapped on.

‘Claire…’

Raoul’s voice roused her from her panic, her eyes opening and noting the dark trousers he was wearing, and the shirt unbuttoned almost to the waist as though she had interrupted him on the point of undressing. She hadn’t realised he was back, but as he took a step towards her, his forehead pleated in a deep frown, she remembered what had happened and called out, ‘No, Raoul… don’t come too close. I think there’s a… a snake in Saud’s cot.’

She shuddered as she spoke, closing her eyes as she averted her face from the pretty blue and white cot they had bought in Paris. Never would she be able to look at it in the same way again. ‘I heard him crying,’ she added huskily, as Raoul continued to stare from her to the cot as though unable to believe what she was saying. ‘I came in, and… and I could hear something moving. It seemed to come from the cot.’ She was white and shaking with reaction, her frenzied, ‘No, Raoul, please don’t…’ halting him on his way towards her. ‘You might get bitten,’ she added hoarsely as he looked at her.

‘You come here to me then,’ he said compellingly, using the same soothing tone he might have used to a terrified child. He didn’t believe her, Claire thought sickly, as she took first one and then another step past the cot.

A sudden movement froze her, an angry hiss, and the dark, reed-like body emerged from the sheets, poised, watching, mesmerising her with its dark, glittering eyes. Dimly she heard Raoul curse, and then move, almost knocking her off her feet as he pushed her away, plucking the thing from the soft blue cotton. It squirmed through the air, landing on the floor, and Raoul’s shoe crushed down on the back of its neck. Sickened but unable to tear her eyes away, Claire watched its dying writhing, its poison sacs emptying on to the floor, all movement slowly going.

‘It’s over,’ she heard Raoul saying quietly. ‘It’s over Claire. You’re both quite safe now. Come…’

Numbly she walked towards him, letting him take her hand and lead her back into her own room, feeling all the time as though she were sitting on the sidelines outside her body, watching its slow movements.

Her false calm broke when Saud started to cry, fierce tremors seizing her body. She was aware of Raoul taking Saud from her, the little boy finding comfort in the hard pressure of his arms; and then it was her turn, her face was pressed against the hard warmth of his bare chest as he put Saud down and comforted her.

‘It’s all over now, Claire. You’re both quite safe,’ he repeated, but Claire didn’t feel safe. She felt distinctly vulnerable, her body aching with pain and need, her body treacherously conscious of Raoul’s proximity, of the satiny feel of his skin beneath her trembling fingers, the dark hairs crisp against her palm, his heartbeat a reassuring thud against her.