Another new and even colder fear took possession of Danielle’s heart; wild fancies driving out common sense and causing her to shiver with the deep conviction that far from sending out a search party, her husband was far more likely simply to leave her to her fate.
A combination of numbed limbs and nervous exhaustion aided by the rocking motion of the mare’s walk lulled Danielle into the borderland between sleeping and waking. Her eyes closed, and although she was still conscious she seemed to have entered a dream world where everything around her took on a hazy, distant quality which combined with the numbing of her body to alleviate a little of her menal and physical agony.
When the oasis loomed up in front of her her eyelids had dropped over her eyes, her slender body slumped forward over the mare’s neck. The little animal hesitated, snorting delicately and arching her neck as though trying to draw her rider’s attention to their surroundings. Getting no response, she moved forward at a sedate walk, delicately picking her way across the sand.
How her subconscious managed to relay to her the presence of another shadow amongst so much darkness Danielle was not really sure. One moment her eyes were tightly closed, the next they few open, her senses screaming a warning. The mare’s reins were trailing in the sand, but by some miracle she had managed to avoid tripping in them. As she leaned forward to pat the mare’s silky coat, Danielle’s eyes searched the oasis for some indication of the presence which had awoken her. She could see nothing, but she knew she and the mare were not alone. The little horse was prancing skittishly on the sand, her body tensed as though awaiting a command. Fear drying her mouth, Danielle dismounted, her dismayed gasp suppressed as recognition of her surroundings finally came to her. They were at the oasis just beyond the castle. If she hadn’t been so relieved to know where they were and so alarmed by the alien presence she sensed stalking her from the shadows, she might just have cried—cried for her own foolishness and both her own and the mare’s exhaustion, but from somewhere she found the strength to stiffen her spine, and call out sharply, ‘Who’s there?’
The figure who stepped from the shadows was wearing riding clothes, his heavy dark cloak billowing in the cold breeze. The mare went immediately to him.
Apprehension shivered along Danielle’s nerves, and she gasped as she saw and recognised his features. No wonder the horse had gone to him so eagerly! The mare was snorting happily with pleasure, her ears alert, as she nosed the man who was stroking her, plainly searching for some little treat.
‘Jourdan, I thought you were away. How…’
The moment the words left her lips Danielle realised how foolish and damning they were. Plainly Jourdan thought so too. She could see the tight, angry line of his lips, the cold jet glitter of his eyes as they rested initially on her pale face, smudged with exhaustion and tears, and then on the mare.
‘How did I find you?’ His face was cold with reproof. ‘I trusted Zara to have the sense you so obviously lack. The scent of water led her back here. It is an instinct without which animals die quickly and painfully in the desert,’ he added curtly. ‘Is this how our life together is going to be, mignonne? Every time I turn my back are you going to attempt to escape me?’
‘I am not your possession,’ Danielle objected tiredly. ‘You lied and cheated, forced me into a marriage I didn’t want. Can you blame me for wanting to escape?’
‘From what and to what?’ Jourdan asked softly. ‘Can you tell me honestly that there have been no moments in our marriage which have brought you pleasure beyond anything you have known before?’
Danielle’s expression betrayed her. Her face flamed in the darkness. Jourdan knew all her vulnerable points and how to make use of them. It was pointless telling her that she hated him, pointless railing against the fate which had brought them together, and for the first time she longed for an Arab girl’s serene acceptance; her ability to smile and say softly, ‘It is the will of Allah.’
‘Come, you are falling asleep on your feet,’ Jourdan said abruptly, taking her arm in one hand and the mare’s reins in the other.
Danielle expected to be led to a Land Rover or car where others would be waiting, but to her surprise Jourdan led her instead to a lump of palm trees where his own mount was waiting. The mare whickered joyfully, and Jourdan smiled for the first time.
‘Zara is not like you, ma petite,’ he said mockingly. ‘See how gladly she greets her mate. Have you no words of gratitude for me, Danielle, for rescuing you from the desert?’
‘I wasn’t lost,’ Danielle retorted bitterly. ‘You said so yourself. I suppose you’ve derived considerable amusement from imagining my fears, knowing all the time that Zara would bring me back to the oasis.’
‘And you,’ Jourdan said, suddenly stern, ‘did you give any thought to the feelings of those you left behind, Danielle? Zanaide was frantic, and so was the boy who saddled the mare for you. I can quite understand how you must have relished the thought of humiliating me, but Zanaide and the boy…’
His look hurt more than any amount of contemptuous words, and for a moment Danielle longed to tell him just how wrong he was. There had been no thought of his humiliation in her mind—only her own should he discover how foolishly she had given her heart into his keeping.
‘You are exhausted,’ he repeated firmly. ‘Zanaide is a soft-hearted creature and begged me not to punish you for your folly.’ Before Danielle could object to his choice of words, he added suavely, ‘Besides, there is no need, is there, Danielle?’
It was all she could do to simply shake her head. He was right; the ordeal of finding herself alone and lost in the desert had been punishment enough, and one whose memory would live in her mind as long as her love lived in her heart.
‘You cannot ride back to the castle tonight,’ Jourdan announced abruptly. ‘We shall remain here at the oasis and our absence will serve a twofold purpose. It will give both you and Zara a chance to recover your strength and allow my servants to believe that I have chastised you as they believe a man should chastise his woman.’ When Danielle looked blank he added sardonically, ‘Surely you have heard the saying, mignonne, “A woman, a donkey and a walnut tree, the more you beat them the better they be.”’ When Danielle recoiled he laughed harshly. ‘Do not worry, I have never yet lifted my hand in anger against a woman, and although no woman has provoked me to it as you do, I could not call myself a man were I to do so now.’
‘There are other more painful means of punishment between a man and a woman,’ Danielle said beneath her breath, thinking of the bitter-sweet agony of his touch, but he heard her, and grasped her arms, swinging her round so that she could see the anger tautening the bones of his face.
Something in her flinching expression must have reached him, because instead of carrying out the threat implicit in his eyes, Danielle was released, while Jourdan turned to secure the mare.
A thick sleeping bag had been dumped on the sand beneath the palm trees and Danielle focused absently on it while Jourdan was busy.
‘Yes, I regret that we shall have to share it.’
His crisp words cut across her muddled thoughts. She hadn’t got as far as thinking about the purpose of that single, solitary sleeping bag, but now fear trembled along her nerve ends. How could she endure a night in such close intimacy with Jourdan without betraying her feelings?
‘Couldn’t we go back to the castle?’ she suggested woodenly. ‘It’s only a few miles. Besides,’ she added wildly, seeing his expression, ‘I want to have a bath… I’m covered in sand and…’
‘If a bath is all you want, we can provide that for you,’ Jourdan said easily, motioning towards the oasis itself. ‘There is no need to be afraid, we are quite alone here.’
Didn’t he realise that was why she was afraid? Danielle thought, moistening dry lips with the tip of her tongue, unaware of the smouldering dark eyes fastening on the defensively provocative gesture.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she began weakly, but Jourdan wasn’t prepared to let the subject drop there.
‘What is there to be afraid of?’ he taunted. ‘Surely you are not so naïve as to think that the merest glimpse of your naked flesh is sufficient to drive me into a frenzy of lust? If so you have a lot to learn about men, mignonne. Nothing destroys desire as quickly and easily as an unwilling partner.’
Colour stained Danielle’s face as she turned defensively away. There was no need for Jourdan to underwrite the fact that he had made love to her simply to ensure that their marriage could not be set aside—she was already aware of that, just as she was now also aware that merely to look upon his tall, muscled frame was sufficient to set her heart thudding with the desire which made her legs tremble weakly beneath her, and constricted her breathing.
‘You will find that the oasis is quite warm,’ Jourdan continued dispassionately. ‘I myself had intended to swim in it, so I can provide you with a towel.’
Swim! Danielle risked a glance at the hard, athletic body of her husband, swiftly masking her eyes with thick dark lashes as she felt her regard returned. Did he come often to the oasis to swim in its tranquil waters?