Christina hung Philip's clothes alongside her own in the narrow space between the tent and the curtains. She then joined him to finish her meal while he ate his.

"Are the horses all right?" she said. She was worried about Raven.

"The young colts are a bit jittery, but the older horses are used to sudden storms."

"Does it rain like this often?" she asked, starting as a flash of lightning illuminated the tent

"Only in the mountains," he laughed. "But this storm is worse than usual—it's been a long time in coming. Does thunder frighten you, Una?" he asked as he finished off the stew. He could barely see her.

"Of course not!" she returned haughtily. She drained a glass of wine she'd poured to warm herself. "There's very little I'm afraid of."

"Good," he replied heartily, stretching his arms wide. "I suggest we go to bed, then, since there's no longer any light to see by."

"If you don't mind, FH stay here awhile." She reached for the bag of wine, but her hand was intercepted by his.

"Ah, but I do mind."

He yanked her to her feet and pulled her resisting body behind him toward the bedroom. But Christina had gained courage from the wine. She sank her teeth into his hand, freed herself, and dashed frantically behind the curtains.

"Damn it, woman! Is there no end to your trickery?" she heard him call out in a rage. But she knew he couldn't see her.

Just then, lightning again crashed through the sky and silhouetted Christina's small frame against the curtains. The next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her back with Philip's weight pressing her deeply into the soft rugs.

He laughed cruelly as he roughly yanked her robe apart, not bothering to untie it. His lips seared hers painfully, silencing her screams as he entered her viciously. Her mind was beyond reason as her body accepted his like a wild animal, and the pain turned to violent waves of ecstatic pleasure.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Tina," he said later. "But you never cease to amaze me with the lengths you will go to avoid lovemaking. You crave it as much as I do!"

"I do not!" she cried, pushing him off her and running into the bedroom. She threw herself on the bed and let the tears flow freely.

She felt his weight on the bed, and turned to face him in the darkness of the room. "Philip, I want to go home. I want to go back to my brother," she pleaded between sobs.

"No," he replied curtly. "And I don't want to hear any more about it."

She cried her heart out into the pillow, but Philip was immune to her crying, and eventually they both fell asleep.

Chapter Fifteen

A month passed swiftly by, and then another. Though it was winter, the days were warm, with soft eastern breezes, but the nights were extremely cold. Christina resented the fact that she needed Philip's body for warmth during the long, cold nights. She awakened each morning to find herself curled up next to Philip or him molded against her back.

The weather worked against Christina, for the close contact of their bodies seeking warmth aroused Philip's desire. If he woke first, there was no possible escape for her.

Philip enjoyed their morning romps because he didn't have to chase Christina around the tent and put up with her fighting and kicking. In the mornings, he pinned her down before she awoke fully and knew what was happening. Then he took his time with her, and only had to suffer a few weak protests before she abandoned herself to his caresses.

Philip spent his days hunting, at which he was skillful. He rarely missed his target and often brought welcome meat home to his people.

Christina's days were full, and she had fallen into a routine. She spent her mornings in the tent either sewing or reading. Amine came often to visit. Christina loved children and enjoyed playing with Amine's, especially the baby.

As Christina watched the children play together, she would sometimes wonder what would happen if she were to become pregnant. She would love to have a child of her own, but she didn't want Philip's child. She hated him too much.

And how would Philip react? Would he send her away if she lost her figure and could no longer satisfy him? He'd said he hadn't brought her here to bear children. Perhaps he didn't like children. But if she were to give him a son, would he keep the baby? Would he send her away without her child? Such questions were pointless, however, so she didn't ponder them long.

After the noon meal, Christina went to visit Yasir each day. His health was much improved. He could concentrate longer and talked more to her, his fondest subject being Philip. Once he started talking about his son there was no stopping him. He told her about Philip as a child growing up in the desert. He told her how he taught Philip to walk and talk.

"Abu's first sentence was half-Arabic and half-English," Yasir said. "He didn't know the difference!"

Christina felt a bit sorry for Rashid. She could tell that all of Yasir's love went to Philip. Perhaps Philip also felt sorry for Rashid, and so always gave him his own way.

After visiting Yasir, she went riding. She looked forward to it every day. If Philip was away, she went with Ahmad or Saadi, and sometimes even Rashid when he was in camp, which wasn't often.

As Christina rode through the desert on Raven's back, she made believe she was safe and secure in Halstead without a care in the world. No Philip, no troubles, nothing to make her wish for past happiness. Only Dax beneath her and Tommy or John beside her racing across grassy fields, cool winds caressing her face. But the arid breath of the desert always shattered her dreams and reminded her of reality.

Christina prayed desperately that Philip would soon tire of her. But his desire for her seemed insatiable. She spent her evenings devising ways of avoiding the inevitable, but she quickly ran out of ideas, and nothing seemed to work. She was waspish and nagging. She feigned sleepiness and headaches. But he always saw through her schemes.

Baiting him into anger only made him take her viciously. She wore her breeches to bed one night, but she was sorry afterward, for they ended up on the floor torn to pieces. Her only respite came when he was exhausted, but he usually made up for it the next morning.

* * *

Christina hadn't seen Philip all day. Rashid had dined with them last night and had presented her with a beautiful handcarved looking glass. She'd kissed him lightly on the cheek in appreciation of the gift. Philip had been sullen and taciturn the rest of the evening.

She wondered why he'd acted that way, as she walked quickly toward the corral where Saadi was waiting to ride with her. In her haste, she didn't see Nura leaving the fire, and collided with her, knocking her down.

"I'm sorry," Chistina gasped, extending her hand. "Here, let me help you."

"Do not touch me," Nura hissed, her voice filled with hate as she stood up. "You wicked woman! You have cast a spell on Abu to make him want you. But I will break the spell. Abu does not love you. Soon he will cast you out and marry me. You are not wanted here. Why do you stay?"

Christina was speechless. She had to escape the hate she saw in Nura's eyes. She hadn't known jealousy could cause such hatred. She ran to the horses where Saadi stood with shock on his kindly brown face from his sister's words. He started to speak to Christina, but she swiftly mounted Raven by herself and rode recklessly out of camp.

Saadi mounted and tried desperately to catch up with her. He knew Sheik Abu would skin him alive if he let anything happen to his woman. She was riding down the hill so fast, she could easily take a fall from her horse and hurt herself. It would be Nura's fault for upsetting her, but Saadi would have to take the blame.

Ah, that Nura! He would make her pay for this. He must make her understand that the sheik was happy with his foreign woman, even though he hadn't married her yet. Nura must give up her false hopes.

Christina's vision blurred with tears. She wasn't crying over Nura's words, for she didn't care whether Philip loved her or not. She was crying because Nura hated her, and it wasn't her fault. Christina would gladly give Philip to Nura. She would leave if she could. She hadn't asked to be kidnapped!

Christina stopped Raven at the bottom of the hill to wipe her eyes before galloping on. She was going to ride as far as Raven would take her into the desert, and she didn't care what happened to her.

Suddenly she noticed two men on horseback in the distance. They were standing motionless at the base of the mountains. She considered riding to them, until the tallest man came toward her. She thought the man must be either Philip or Rashid, because he was too tall to be anyone else. She couldn't tell which it was, for he was still too far away and his kufiyah covered his features.

If it were Philip, she could not escape him. She heard Saadi coming up behind her, and turned to look into his worried eyes.

"I wish to apologize for my sister," Saadi managed to sayas he caught his breath. "She had no right to say what she did to you, and I will punish her for it."

"It's all right, Saadi. I don't want you to punish Nura because of me. I understand how she feels."

Glancing to where she had seen the two men, Christina saw that they had both disappeared. She continued her ride with Saadi as usual, and returned to camp before dusk.

When Christina entered the tent, she found Philip waiting to take her to bathe. He seemed in good spirits, and whacked her bottom as she passed him to get the towels and soap. She didn't ask him if he were one of the men she had seen on the desert. He had made it quite clear before that he didn't like her questioning him.

* * *

In the late hours of the following morning, Christina was mending the hem on one of her skirts when Amine came into the tent very slowly. She stood before Christina wringing her hands.

A terrible pain crept into Christina's heart. She. realized something awful must have happened, but she didn't know why she felt so sick inside.

"What is it, Amine?" she gasped. "Has something happened to Abu?"

"No," Amine answered, a tear sliding down her cheek. "It is bis father—Shiek Yasir Alhamar is dead."

"But that can't be!" Christina cried, jumping to her feet. "Yasir was fine yesterday, and he's been so much better these last months. I—I don't believe it!"

Christina ran from the tent, oblivious of Amine's calls. But she knew, even before she entered Yasir's tent to find it empty, that it was true. He really was dead. She cried then, the tears flowing unchecked as she stared down at the empty sheepskins on the floor that had been his bed only yesterday. She went down on her knees and touched the soft sheepskin. She had come to care for Yasir, and now he was gone.

She felt Amine's arms go around her and help her to her feet.

"Come, Christina, it is not good to stay here." Amine led her back to her tent and sat with her on the couch, holding her closly for comfort. She remained silent until Christina's tears were spent. "Sheik Yasir died in his sleep during the night. Rashid discovered him early this morning, and he and Sheik Abu took him to the desert to bury."

"But why wasn't I told sooner?" Christina asked.

"It was a private thing between two sons and their father. Sheik Abu did not want you to be disturbed."

"Where is Abu now?" Christina asked, knowing how he must feel. She remembered the agony she had felt when she lost both her parents. Strange as it seemed, she wanted to comfort Philip, to put her arms around him and share his sorrow.

"When Rashid returned to camp, he said Abu rode off into the desert, and then—then Rashid left, too."

Christina waited patiently for Philip to return. She tried to keep busy so she wouldn't think of Yasir, but it was impossible. She kept seeing his face as it lit up whenever she entered his tent. She kept hearing his voice as he talked fondly about Philip.

* * *

The moon floated high over the mountains and cast a soft gray light that filtered gently through the juniper trees surrounding the camp. Philip stood dejectedly by the fire, warming his exhausted limbs.

It had taken him most of the day riding wildly across the desert to come to terms with Yasir's death. He thought now that it was better to have come at last. Yasir had always lived a vigorous life, and the months after his illness had turned him into an invalid charing at his confinement.