She fell asleep in his arms, damp, exhausted, and only partly satisfied. Her dreams were vivid and intense, dreams of women singing and drums beating and the heavy sweet smell of attar, the uniquely Arabic perfume she’d first smelled in Atiq and now here. And then in her dreams shrouded men with swords and whips stormed her room, taking Tair, dragging Tair far from her.
Tally woke with a start, heart racing, hands flying out to brace a fall.
But she wasn’t falling. She was still in bed.
She reached out to touch the bed and instead her palm brushed warm skin and solid muscle. And heart still pounding she remembered. She was still here, at Bur Juman with Tair.
With Tair.
Putting her head back down, she left her hand on his chest and looked at him in the dark for a long moment, emotions fierce, intense, everything breaking loose. Everything stronger than she ever thought she’d know, feel. She loved him. The horrible man. Her horrible man. And she loved him more than she thought she could ever love anyone.
Tally’s lashes slowly drifted down, and she exhaled softly, painfully. She was still here with Tair.
Thank God.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WASthe morning after the wedding and Tair was of course nowhere to be found while Leena was in Tally’s bedroom with her putting away all the new clothes Tair had ordered for his new bride.
Leena was very excited about Tally’s new wardrobe but Tally could hardly bring herself to look at the myriad of new gowns and robes. Instead she stood at the window, looking out at the desert and wanting to go, just go. Not to necessarily leave Tair, but to leave here, leave the confinement and the women’s quarters and the world that kept her in long dresses and veils and away from action. Adventure.
She missed action and adventure. Wistfully she looked at the sand dunes and the shimmer of sun on the undulating hills.
From here, the room in her tower, the sand was beautiful. Mystical. From here, she even missed the sandstorm and sand pit and her asthma attack.
Tair had saved her each time. He’d come to the rescue, riding hard and fast on his white and gray stallion. He’d saved her.
Tally bit her lip, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. The ache was different from yesterday’s anger. Her dream last night had frightened her, made her realize how little control she had. Not just over Tair, but Paolo, her family, her father. Life was slippery, nearly as slippery as those grains of quicksand.
“I like you, Madame,” Leena said unexpectedly.
Tally turned from the window, smiled. She was touched. “I like you, too. You’re very good to me. I appreciate it.”
Leena smoothed one of the gorgeous silk sheaths that rested on her lap. She’d been putting each gown carefully into the enormous carved trunk. “I wish I could be like you. Fierce and brave. Strong.”
Tally pushed a heavily jeweled hand through her hair, the myriad of gold bangles on her wrist jingling. “I’m not that brave,” she answered, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. No, she wasn’t brave. She actually felt like a coward. She felt afraid. Afraid for her, afraid for Tair. It was only a dream—not a foreshadowing—but it unnerved her, leaving her tender on the inside, tender and fragile. “I think I just like fighting with his lordship.”
The girl’s smile dimpled from behind the sheer veil. “Because you love him.”
“I don’t love him.”
“He loves you.”
“He doesn’t.”
The girl shrugged. “Then why does he permit you to speak to him as you do? No one else could address Sheikh el-Tayer that way. But when you open your mouth, he listens.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m Western.”
“He’s had other foreign women and he’s not allowed any of them to speak to him as you do.”
Tally’s eyes widened. What did Leena mean, other Western women here? But she wasn’t going to ask, couldn’t ask Leena, wasn’t right. But Tally couldn’t stay quiet. “He used to entertain here frequently?”
“Not entertain, no, but there have been…” And Leena’s voice drifted off and her shoulders shrugged. “Not a harem, no, but you must understand, he is a sheikh and he has had many women.”
“Westernwomen?”
“French. British.” Leena’s forehead furrowed. “One Canadian.”
Tally nearly slipped off the bed. “They were here?”
“Yes, Madame.”
“And they left?” Tally pressed her knuckles against the silk coverlet on the bed. “The Sheikh allowed them to leave?”