Christina returned the smile of the dark, pretty girl who seemed to be in her early twenties. She was the one who had brought their food yesterday and whose skirt and blouse Christina was wearing. Perhaps Christina could become friends with her if given the chance.
"These are Maidi's sons—Ahmad, Saadi, and Syed, Amine's husband," Philip finished.
Each of the sons nodded in turn. Christina recognized Ahmad and Saadi as the two young men who had helped Philip kidnap her. Syed was Philip's age and had a long scar running down his right cheek.
"I am very pleased to meet all of you," Christina said.
"It is we who are honored to meet you, Christina Wake-field," Said returned, smiling warmly at her. "I can see why Sheik Abu went to so much trouble to bring you here. You have a most unusual beauty."
"You flatter me, Said, but I—"
Philip cut her off. "It was no trouble at all, as Ahmad and Saadi can attest to, but Christina still has to meet your brothers, so we'll be going." He pushed Christina from the tent
"I understand. Another time perhaps," Said called after them, looking disconcerted.
Christina turned on Philip with her hands on her hips, eyes flashing angrily.
"Why did you cut me off like that?" she demanded.
"You'd better lower your voice if you know what's good for you, Tina. I wasn't teasing when I warned you that we beat our women for showing disrespect," Philip said harshly. "I cut you off because you were about to say that you were here against your will. Everyone here already knows that. But if you had said so in public, it would have been an embarrassment to me. A good lashing is probably just what you need to tame you down." Philip grasped her shoulder roughly.
"No!" Christina gasped, pulling away from him. "I'll be good, I—I promise!" she said frantically, her whole body trembling.
"Christina, stop it," Philip demanded softly. "I'm not going to beat you now. You haven't pushed me that far yet."
He took her in his arms and held her tenderly until she stopped shaking. She would never be able to comprehend this man. One minute he threatened to beat her, and the next, he was holding her with tenderness and love.
Love? Why did she think of that? Philip didn't love her. He only wanted her. And love and wanting were as different as night and day. She could never hope to leave this place unless his heart softened toward her and he let her go, as his father had released his mother.
"Are you all right now, Tina?" he inquired huskily, lifting her face up to his.
"Yes," Christina replied softly, without opening her eyes.
He took her then to meet Said's two brothers and their large families. Christina noticed that all the young women watched Philip with longing in their eyes. So Rashid was right, she thought They had all hoped to win Philip's attentions before he brought her all the way from England to flaunt in front of them. They all must hate her—and Nura most of all.
That afternoon, Christina finished the skirt she had been making, and was quite pleased with her work. She had fashioned the skirt after the one she was wearing, using a pale-green silk and trimming it around the hem with dark-green lace.
She could wear the green silk skirt with Amine's dark-green blouse while she worked on a matching top. She had decided it would be faster to make simple skirts and blouses first, instead of dresses. She didn't care if the clothes she made were too fine for camp life. Christina enjoyed wearing beautiful clothes. They made her feel good, wherever she was.
Before dinner, Philip came to take Christina to bathe, with a knife strapped to his leg for protection. He joined her in the warm water but didn't try to touch her this time.
After bathing, Christina donned her new skirt. But Philip only commented, "You're fast with your hands, Tina."
Rashid joined them for dinner, and he couldn't keep his eyes off Christina all evening. His attentions annoyed Philip, so she retired early, leaving the two brothers to discuss tribal affairs. When Philip came to bed later, she feigned sleep, expecting him to try to take her again. But he only pulled her to him and presently fell asleep.
Chapter Eleven
IN the slow days that followed, Christina and Philip fell into a routine. He took all his meals with her, but left her to herself during the morning and afternoon. He took her to the pond to bathe each evening before dinner and stayed with her after the meal, cleaning his weapons, reading, or just meditating.
Each night Philip made love to her, and each night she fought him until her passions overcame her resistance and swept her away. Christina could not deny that bis love-making gave her pleasure, but that only made her hate Philip more than ever.
Philip made her feel strangely mixed emotions. She was nervous whenever he was near. She could never predict what he would do next. He made her lose control of herself, sending her into a fit of anger and then turning that anger to fear. And she was afraid of him, for she really believed he would beat her if she provoked him too far.
A week had passed since Philip had brought Christina to his camp. With nothing else to do, she had completed the green silk blouse and two more skirts, but she was tired of sewing. She was tired of being inside the tent all day long, every day.
Philip had left without a word right after breakfast that morning. She knew he was angry with her for not telling him why she had cried the night before. How could she tell him she cried because her body deceived her? She had been so determined to be unmoved by his caresses and to lie placidly beneath him. But Philip patiently brought her to life, snatching away her will as he did every night.
But Philip was not satisfied by breaking her down once. He had asserted his power over her again, mercilessly, and she had loved every minute of it. But when he was finished with her and rolled to his side of the bed, she started to cry.
When Philip tried to comfort her, she just cried harder and told him to leave her alone. She was disgusted with herself for enjoying the act, more than angry at him. But when she wouldn't explain herself, he became coldly angry. Christina cried until she finally fell asleep.
Now, as the morning wore on, Christina felt stifled by inactivity. She put her sewing aside and walked to the entrance of the tent. The sunlight looked so inviting as it filtered through the juniper trees that Christina forgot her fear of Philip's reaction to her leaving the tent. She meandered toward the corral, basking in the warmth of the sun.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Philip. He was in the large corral with Ahmad, who was astride a beautiful Arabian horse. The other horses were grazing peacefully on the hillside with the sheep. Bravely she continued walking. When she reached the corral fence, the horse shied away.
Philip turned to see what was bothering the animal, and his eyes narrowed menacingly when he spied her. He soothed the horse, then came to her with quick strides.
"What are you doing here?" Philip asked angrily. "I gave you no permission to leave the tent."
Christina fought to control her rising anger.
"I couldn't stand it another minute in that tent, Philip. I'm not used to being confined. I need to feel the sun and breathe the morning air. Can't I stay here and watch you? I'm interested in what you do every day," she lied.
"I train these horses, among other things," he said.
"What for?" Christina asked, stalling for more time.
"Do you really want to know, Christina? Or are you playing at another game?"
"I can't win the game when you are the opponent, as you well know," she pouted. "I'd really like to know how you train your horses."
"Very well. What would you like to know?"
"What are you training them to do?"
"To follow directions with the pressure of the knees and not the hands. Sometimes our hands are not free to direct the reins, as in battle or after a raid. Also it serves another purpose, for our horses cannot be stolen unless they are led away. They will not carry a rider who uses the reins to direct them."