"That's ingenious," Christina said, her interest growing. "But how do you teach the horses these pressures?"
"The horse is led in a certain direction, say to the left, while the rider uses the pressure for that direction. We continue with one direction at a time until the horse learns it."
"How do you stop the horse?"
"Since we don't ride with saddles, we use our feet to stop him by digging them into his sides. Are you satisfied now?"
"Yes. May I stay and watch you for a while?" she asked meekly.
"If you are quiet and don't disturb the horse," he said. He looked at her quizzically for a long moment before walking away.
So—she had won. She was free of that damnable tent for a while. Christina let her mind wander while keeping her soft, blue-green eyes on Philip.
How she wished that she were astride that beautiful animal. Perhaps she could persuade Philip to let her ride one of his horses or, better yet, give her an untrained horse. It wouldn't be like riding Dax freely through the lush green fields of home, but it would be better than not riding at all.
Christina suddenly realized that she was thinking of a future in this camp. Oh damn, why didn't John rescue her? But John probably thought her dead already. She had to find a way to escape, but she couldn't go alone. She must have a guide to help her cross the desert and protect her from outlaw tribes. She must have food, water, horses.
Could she wait until Philip tired of her? How long would that be? And Philip might not send her to her brother when he no longer wanted her. He might sell her as a slave for someone's harem.
Perhaps she could persuade Philip to let her go if she made him fall in love with her! But how could she manage to win him over when he knew she hated him? Besides, he had told her he only desired her body.
"Christina."
She looked up into Philip's smiling green eyes.
"I called you twice. You have a strange way of showing that you're interested in what I do."
"I'm sorry," Christina smiled back at him. "I was just thinking of my horse, Dax, and how I would love to be out riding."
"Did you ride often at your home?"
"Oh yes! Every day, for long hours at a time," she said enthusiastically.
They walked back to the tent, where steaming dishes of porridge, rice, and sweetmeats were on the table for their midday meal. There was a pot of tea for Christina and a fresh skin of wine for Philip.
"I'll be leaving the camp this afternoon for a while," Philip mentioned as they sat down to eat. "I'll leave Ahmad to guard the tent while I'm gone. It is for your protection that you're guarded, nothing else."
"But where are you going?"
"On a ghazw," he said irritably.
She had obviously hit on something Philip didn't want to talk about. But her woman's curiosity wouldn't let her stop.
"A ghazw? What's that?"
"Christina, must you always ask so many questions of me?" Philip's voice was edged with anger, making her shiver despite the warmth. "It's a raid, if you must know. Syed spotted a caravan this morning. Since our food supply is getting low, we'll take what we need to hold us over for a while. Does that answer your question, or is there something else you'd like to know?"
"You can't be serious!" Christina was appalled. She stopped eating and looked into his cold green eyes. "Why can't you buy what you need? Rashid had all those jewels you turned down. You must have wealth of your own. Why must you steal from other people?"
Philip stood and faced her, the yellow flecks in his green eyes disappearing as he looked at her wrathfully,
"I will not stand for your questioning my actions anymore, Christina. I will tell you once, and once only. Raiding is the way of my people. We rob to survive as we have always done. We take only what we need. I have no wealth here, because I have no need of it. Rashid has a grievance against me that I understand, so I don't curb his greed for riches. What he steals, I let him keep. Do not question me about it again!"
He turned on his heel and stormed from the tent. Christina was shaken. She felt as if she were hopelessly falling into a bottomless pit.
Philip was an outlaw! No doubt he killed men mercilessly when he went on raids. He probably enjoyed killing! And she—Christina Wakefield—was at his mercy.
Christina shivered uncontrollably, thinking of the rage he had just shown. Would he kill her if she pushed him too far? He was an outlaw, and she knew where his camp was. Would Philip ever let her go with that kind of knowledge?
She heard horses galloping out of the camp. He was off to pillage and plunder and only God knew what else, Christina thought. She couldn't live with this new fear. She had to know what he intended to do with her. If she was to die, then she wanted to know it.
Walking quickly to the entrance of the tent, she found Ahmad sitting on the ground outside the entrance. He was meticulously cleaning a long silver sword with a curved handle.
"Ahmad," she ventured slowly, "may I ask you a question?"
He loooked at her strangely.
"It is not right. Women do not ask questions. It is not their place."
This was too much. These people were barbaric!
"But Ahmad, I was not raised as your women are. I was brought up to be equal to men, can't you understand that? I just wanted to know if Abu ever brought another woman here before me," she said, hoping he would just think her jealous.
Ahmad grinned. "No, you are the first woman Sheik Abu has ever brought to camp."
'Thank you, Ahmad," she smiled back at him.
Going back into the tent, Christina paced the floor. That was no help at all. If there had been another woman, Christina might have discovered what had happened to her after Philip tired of her. Now she would have to face Philip with the question that was tormenting her. She prayed he would be in a better mood when he returned.
Chapter Twelve
THE sun was still above the horizon when they reached the foot of the mountains. They rode hard now, for the caravan was many miles away. Philip hoped this wasn't a slaver's caravan, for they usually carried little food.
Damn that woman and her curiosity! How could she so easily make him lose control? He had always prided himself on his cool reactions toward women—until he'd met Christina!
She'd angered him the night before by refusing to tell him why she was crying. He couldn't understand it. She had never cried before after making love.
Would he ever understand her? Christina continued to fight him each night, but he knew she enjoyed his love-making. Why did she fight what was so pleasurable?
When she came to the corral this morning, he knew her feigned interest was only an excuse to leave the tent. But could he blame her? He'd have done the same thing. He was positive she wouldn't try to escape again, she feared him too much. Perhaps he could trust her enough to give her the freedom of the camp.
Philip recalled the look of horror on Christina's face when he told her he was going raiding. He hadn't intended to tell her about that part of his life. He didn't enjoy it himself, and he knew it would appall her. But he was so angered by her inquisitiveness that he wanted to shock her.
He wasn't used to so many questions about his life, especially from a woman. Ah, but what a woman! Philip thoroughly enjoyed having her around. He found pleasure in just gazing at her uncommon beauty. He looked forward to entering his tent knowing she would be there— willing or not. Before, his tent had been a lonely place that he avoided as much as possible.
As they approached the caravan, which had camped at an oasis for the night, Philip saw five camels, their packs piled on the ground, and six men gathered around a small fire. Philip and his men galloped up to surround the camp, brandishing their guns, and Syed fired off two shots to see if the caravan intended to fight or surrender its goods.