Chapter VI
The activities of the moussem suited Alex and Crispina€?s purposes admirably. Games of skills and other competitions gave them a chance to build a masculine camaraderie with the other men present. They did not hesitate to participate. He and Crispin showed off their talents at knife-throwing. They looked over the horses other sheikhs had brought in hopes of races or trading, bolstering their cover as horse traders.
As night fell and the traditional hookah pipe came out to be passed and smoked in Bitara€?s tent, Alex felt theya€?d made good progress in gaining a place of acceptance. Last night, theya€?d been invited out of courtesy, but tonight they were part of the group, having proven their prowess and their worthiness to be accepted. Alexa€?s mastery of Arabic had made that acceptance easier. That they were dressed in Bedouin robes and speaking the common language of the desert made it harder for Bitar to remember they did not belong. It had been a strategy that had worked well for Alex over the years and he had used it liberally today to gain acceptance for him and Crispin.
Tonight would be the test. Alex knew what the men should talk about in the tent. They should talk politics and the business of their tribes. If they didna€?t then Alex would know his acceptance was not complete. He reached for a date, using the action as an opportunity to search the tent for Susannah. He had not seen her all day. While that had been disappointing, it had not been unexpected. Her place was in the night. His body quickened in anticipation. He popped the date into his mouth, aware of Bassama€?s eyes on him. The man had watched him all day.
a€?The Emir of Mascara has invited us to join him,a€? A man close to Alex said, addressing his comment to Bitar. a€?Will you journey on from here to Mascara?a€?
Bitar shook his head and spat, his tone derisive. a€?No, I will not go to join that infidel dog. He calls this a holy war, but it is nothing more than a ruse to subdue us to his will. He wishes to be more than the emir of a city. He wishes to be a king over all of us.a€?
a€?Are you not worried about the French? They have taken Algiers,a€? another asked.
Bitar raised his arms wide to encompass the room and the world outside the expansive tent. a€?What is there to worry about in the desert? The French have no way to impose their law and order out here. Here, we are law and I mean to keep it that way.a€?
Alex nodded along with the other men in the room in a show of solidarity for the sheikha€?s opinion. He shot a quick glance at Crispin, his nod conveying something entirely different. Crispin nodded back. Susannah had not lied. More than that, she had proven to be resourceful, making the most of her captivity. Her command of Arabic must be better than Alex had originally thought if shea€?d used her lowly position as a dancing girl to complete her fathera€?s mission. His admiration for her increased even further. Shea€?d demonstrated beyond doubt she was definitely her fathera€?s daughter.
The pipe came his way and he drew deeply on it, exhaling with fervor. He did not care for the sweet smoke of the pipe but sharing the pipe was a sign of friendship, to refuse would be damning in the extreme. He passed the pipe to Crispin and the drums started. Shouts of approval rose from the men further back by the entrance and clapping began in rhythm with the drums as the dancers entered the tent.
Alex saw Susannah immediately at the head of the line. Tonight she was dressed sumptuously in red and gold, a belt of coins tinkling provocatively at her hips, tiny brass cymbals in her hands clinking out the beat of the dance.
She was enchanting. Men stared after her hungrily as she passed until she reached the space in front of Bitar. Her hands were mesmerizing, their gestures guiding the mena€?s gazes to her breasts beneath the red top she wore, leaving her splendid stomach uncovered to the collective gaze of the audience. Tonight, her costume left her much more exposed. The gauzy pantaloons rode seductively low on her hips, the delicate bones of her pelvis rising above the coin belt.
She danced as if she were oblivious to the eroticism of her costume, to the fact that her body was on display before men. Before him.
Desire throbbed in Alex. She might be oblivious to the gazes of other men, but he did not want her to be oblivious to him. Primal possession surged. He wanted her to acknowledge him. It was a foolish and dangerous wish with Bassam watching, but he wanted it all the same.
Then she did. She moved slightly to her left and put herself directly in front of him, her hips swaying, her eyes promising. She would keep those promises with him tonight, Alex vowed silently.
There were cards after dancing. For all of his protestations against the inventions of Europe, Bitar had a fondness for cards. Low tables were set up among the groupings of pillows in the tent and the men settled in for a night of cards and wine, some of the dancers staying behind to enliven the games. Alex saw Crispin claim a seat at the table with Bassam and Bitar, and he took his cue to slip out. Crispin would keep the men at the table all night.
Alex slid into the night, covertly grabbing up a wineskin and an errant plate of fruit that had gone untouched. The camp was busy. Other entertainments were taking place in other tents, people eager to impress one another and to make deals while the moussem lasted.
He found his own tent and waited. This was the only kink his plan. He did not know where Susannah was lodged, and he could not go poking about without risk of discovery. But shea€?d come to him. If she could. The very thought of another commanding her to his bed rankled. More than rankled. That was too tame a word. The thought boiled his blood. Of course shea€?d come. The sheikh was at cards. He would not seek his bed until dawn.
His fears were unfounded. Moments later, Susannah pulled aside the tent flap and stepped inside, her eyes searching for him. She found him and smiled, the hood of her all-concealing robe falling back to reveal her glorious hair. a€?I can only stay a minute. Did you see today that I was right?a€? Her words were all business, but she was breathless.
Alex took her hand and drew her to him, inhaling deeply of her rose attar. a€?I heard the sheikha€?s testimony from his own lips. He, at least, will not be joining the emir.a€? His words were business too, but his tone was not. He wanted this night for something more than politics.
a€?You and your friend believe me then?a€? Her eyes searched his face. It was touching to know that his acceptance meant so much to her.
a€?We believe you. I believed you last night.a€? He cupped her cheek, the length of her hair running through his fingers like gold silk.
a€?I will not betray you to the sheikh.a€? She whispered, turning her cheek into his hand to nuzzle it.
a€?I know. Come and eat with me. I have wine and figs.a€?
a€?I cannot stay.a€? There was regret in her tone. a€?I only have so much freedom because therea€?s nowhere to run in the desert. But someone may miss me. I never know when the sheikh will call for my services.a€?
a€?The sheikh will be at cards for hours. Crispin will see to it. He has a penchant to possess that horse.a€? Alex encouraged in low sensual tones. a€?We have time for other business.a€?
?
Susannah trembled. This was what shea€?d risked coming here for. She might tell herself it was to confirm the validity of her information, or to make sure Alex was bound to her, committed to keeping his promise, but deep inside, she knew shea€?d come because shea€?d wanted to, regardless of promises and plots. Tonight had only to do with honest want.
Alex led her to his bed and she sat cross-legged, tucking her robe around her. She still wore her decadent dancing costume underneath. She reached for a fig, but Alex forestalled her hand.
a€?Let me.a€? He took the fig and dipped it in a small pot of honey before feeding it to her. He held it above her lips, dribbling honey on them and she licked them, her heart fluttering faster in her chest, warmth pooling between her legs.
a€?Tease,a€? Alex whispered hoarsely.
She bit into the fig with a small moan of delight.
a€?Temptress.a€? He growled and she laughed, amazed to find she had such power over him.
a€?I had not known eating could be so enjoyable.a€? She bit into another offering of fruit.
With an oath, he set the tray of food aside and came up over her, covering her with his length. He kissed her full on the mouth and she reveled in the taste of him, the sweet flavor of honey and wine from the sheikha€?s feast lingering on his lips.
He explored her mouth with his tongue and she responded with passion, her body urging him to taste all she offered, proving last night had been only the beginning. His hands moved beneath her robe, stilling when they met with evidence of her costume. a€?No chemise tonight?a€? he asked quietly.
She stiffened. a€?I didna€?t have time to change.a€? She hesitated. a€?Does it repulse you?a€?
Alex sat back on his heels and studied her face. a€?You could never repulse me. I only dislike that he parades you in front of others as a sign of his hospitality.a€? He was kissing her again, trailing little kisses down the column of her throat, causing her pulse to race at the base of her neck. He spoke between kisses.
a€?When I saw you tonight, I wanted you to dance only for me. I wanted my eyes to be the only ones that watched you. I wanted to rip Bassama€?s throat out for seeing you dressed like that. I wanted to carry you out of that tent and ravish you straight away.a€?
His hands were at the skimpy top she wore, working the clasp at the back to free her breasts. He kissed her bared nipples and she shuddered in delight. His lips traveled downwards towards her belly, stopping to kiss her navel, his hands intimately and possessively framing her body at her hips, his thumbs resting on her pelvis.
Slipping the gauzy pantaloons from her legs, his hands returned to their original positions at her hips, his chin resting lightly at her belly as he looked up at her, his green eyes dark and intent. His thumbs massaged gently as he spoke. a€?I mean to worship you, my beautiful Susannah.a€?
He did not wait for an answer but reached for the wineskin, spilling some on her breasts and her belly and suckling deeply. Susannah cried out, helplessly aroused at his audacity, acutely aware of his breath warm on her, his mouth bent to the heat at her core. Her hands tangled in his thick hair, clutching for balance, as he brought her to a shuddering wave of pleasure. She had not thought her body possessed the ability to claim such gratification.
Alex was moving over her now and she spread her legs instinctively to welcome him. Her arms twined about his neck, her legs about his waist, claiming him as her own, pushing him forward into her. She rose against him, her hips meeting his, urging him deeper. Then it began, truly began. All else had been a precursor to the great joy that awaited her. Alex drove her there and joined her, their bodies exploding together, the warmth of him filling her with great pulsing throbs as he emptied his body into hers in the most intimate of communions.