Heather Graham (37 page)

Alex opened her eyes and then blinked again against the power of the sun. She didn’t feel bad at all physically. Upon their arrival, Shahalla had given her a glass of warm wine that Ali had insisted she drink. She had slept like the dead herself until well past noon every day. And now, out here, on the oasis brink of the desert, she could almost believe that it had all been a dream.

No, not a dream. Because though her limbs felt fine, she was in pain. She wondered if she would always be in pain away from Dan. Or was the pain merely because she was just now having to accept that it was over, that both sides of the bargain had been carried out, that she no longer had any type of claim on Daniel D’Alesio.

He was bossy, she tried to tell herself. Autocratic. They would never be able to make their relationship work. He had his work; he would always be flitting around the world, breaking female hearts every time he appeared on the television screen. And she had her work. She would be able to contribute more and more to the museum; she would probably go on lecture tours with Jim … and eventually she would learn to forget Daniel. She was a strong person. She had proved that to herself once. She would do so again.

But it would take longer, so much longer. Wayne had never been part of her, as Dan had been; he had never had the power to make her tremble with a glance, burn at a touch, soar to rapture beyond description with the tempest of their bodies fusing.

Alex swallowed and bit her lip, her fingers clutching the fabric of the blanket convulsively.

Dan would be there during the excavation of the tomb. She would see him day after day. She wondered if he would want to continue their physical relationship until he was ready to move on. And she wondered if she would have the strength to resist him. She would have to, because she would break into a thousand pieces if she were to lie with him again, and then reach the day when he was ready to shake hands and say, “Best of luck, Alex, I’ll never forget you. …”

She suddenly realized that the Arab boys tending the sheep were shouting more than usual. Shielding her eyes, she sat up and stared across the plain.

The boys were waving as well as shouting. She stared back in the direction from which she had come, the oasis camp of sheepskin tents and centuries-old silken elegance, of Muslim honor and the basic elements of life.

She blinked as she saw the horseman, certain, as she had been on that long-ago day when she had first seen him riding across the desert, that he had to be a mirage. But when she opened her eyes, he was still coming.

He rode the black Arabian stallion, and he was one with it. He was dressed in black again, but not in the robes of the desert. His jeans were black, as was the loose cotton shirt he wore, with full sleeves that billowed as he rode, he had eschewed the use of a saddle, and his gallop across the sands was as smooth and sleek as the superbly muscled and toned physiques of both horse and man. His hair, as dark as the high-riding, floating tail of the stallion, was also swept back by the desert winds. And his eyes, when she met them across the distance, were as blazing and jet as the fires of the devil.

Alex stared at Dan with disbelief as the stallion performed a prancing halt just a few feet from her. She was amazed to see him slide from the stallion’s back and approach her with totally unconcealed fury.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” he bellowed, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a sturdy shake.

Stunned, Alex could do nothing but stare at him blankly for a minute. “I—I—thought I should get away.”

“Without me? Worse than that, without even telling me!”

She felt the power in his arms, the wonderful heat and strength of him, and the pleasant scent that was sandalwood and musk and a little bit horse. And all man.

She wanted to kiss him. But she realized he was still yelling at her. “You’re not going to waste your time or mine mourning Randall, Alex. And if you ever run out on me again, I swear I’ll imprint a brand of blisters on your dimpled little rear end!”

“What! Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Dan D’Alesio. You have no right—”

“I have every right in the world. You’re my—” He broke off suddenly, realizing that the shepherd boys were watching their spirited argument with appreciative amusement.

“This is one discussion we’re going to finish in private,” he muttered, and then Alex found herself gasping with shock when he cleanly swept her into his arms and onto the stallion’s back.

“Dan, I will not be carted around like this at your—” Her words were cut off with a gasp of alarm as he mounted behind her and nudged the horse into a flying canter. Dan wrapped his arms around her, and she felt the beat of his heart as she gasped for breath and prayed that he would keep her from sliding off the slick, sweaty back of the stallion. Her temper flew with the pounding of the hoofbeats, but she could do little more than utter curses at him under her breath as they rode.

Minutes later they were back at the camp. Ali was standing with Shahalla along the sand trail in front of Alex’s tent. He looked up, startled, as Dan and Alex rode up and Dan irritably lifted her protesting form from the horse.

“Looks like a nice reunion.” Ali laughed wryly.

“Ali, would you call him off, please.”

“Oh, I never interfere!” Ali laughed, hugging his wife.

“Good,” Dan said briefly, grasping Alex’s hand and pulling her relentlessly toward the tent. “Never interferes!” he muttered. “Like hell that Arab doesn’t interfere; he got me into this in the first place.”

Alex found herself released but swung around to the center of the tent. “D’Alesio,” she charged him, hands on hips, “you want out of this—you got it! The deal is over. You go ahead and do whatever it is you want to do—”

She broke off as she suddenly noticed that the massive tub in the tent was issuing steam. She glanced from the tub to Dan and started walking away from him.

“What is this? What are you doing here? How did you get here? You’re supposed to be filming the discovery of the tomb—”

“We’re going to get things straight once and for all. What am I doing here? I love you—and you told me that you love me. I got here by helicopter, the same as you did. And I have a talented crew filming; they can work without me. Any more questions? They can wait. I have a few things to tell you. I’ll thrash you to within an inch of your life if you go walking out on me again. You’re mine, Doctor, and you have been for some time. You simply aren’t thoroughly convinced yet, but you will be. And you are an idiot if you feel at all foolish about Randall. I realized you still loved him—even after he tried to kill you—when you passed out as soon as you heard that he was dead—”

“What?” Alex murmured incredulously. “But I—”

“I’m sorry a man is dead; but he was living his own game of violence and he lost. And I will not let you brood over any of this; you hadn’t seen him in a year, and you were not his wife when he was shot. Very shortly you’re going to be my wife. You did ask me to marry you, remember? I understand that even the best of marriages have problems, which both partners have to continue to work out as they grow together. I think we can handle that. We’re certainly aware of each other’s faults, so we can’t say we don’t know what we’re getting into—something very fiery but very wonderful. Now, have you got anything to say?”

“I …” Alex stared at him blankly for a moment, hardly able to believe all that he had managed to say in his whirlwind speech. It sank slowly through to her that he had said he loved her—wanted to marry her—that they would work out all their problems through the years.

She pursed her lips and planted her hands on her hips, but her smile broke through even as she lowered her lashes.

“Yes, you idiot. I didn’t pass out because of Wayne, although I was sorry, it was terrible. I passed out because Ali said that you—oh, you fool—I thought that
you
had been shot.”

His eyes became the incredulous ones, slowly filling with comprehension. “Because of me. …”

“Oh, you are more than an ass, D’Alesio, and please shut up because I have lots more to say!” she exclaimed. “You are the most demanding, autocratic, pain-in-the-neck man I’ve ever met!”

“Really?” His hands were also on his hips, and he was suddenly laughing as he stalked toward her slowly. “Well, I guess I’m glad that you’re aware of all that you’re getting.”

He stopped before her and set his hands upon her shoulders, his eyes burning a devilish jet fire. “And right now …” He slipped his hands from her shoulders to her shirt buttons.

“A bath?” Alex inquired. “Oh, no, D’Alesio—” Alex suddenly broke off, noticing the jagged cut upon his temple. “Dan, you
were
shot! Are you all right? Oh, God—”

“It’s a graze, Alex, nothing more. And no trying to change the conversation.”

“But, Dan—”

He caught her fingers, lacing them with his. “It’s nothing, Alex, I swear it. Now where were we before you tried to wile your way out of my purpose with that sweet feminine concern? Ahh … the bath. Yes, I smell like a horse. And oh, yes, Alex, I’m going to join you this time. I told you that I was one devil who liked my ‘price’ paid with sweetly perfumed flesh and silk and satin hair.”

“I think you are the devil,” Alex muttered breathlessly, no longer protesting his efforts to disrobe her. “Dan, I’m not—I wasn’t mourning Wayne. I was ashamed, but … Dan …” She suddenly crushed herself to him. “Dan, I do love you. So much. I’ve never felt anything like it. I was afraid … I didn’t think I could stand it if you didn’t love me back, and I knew that loving someone didn’t necessarily make them love you too. And you kept telling me you didn’t want to be shackled and that people didn’t change and there are a million other women in the world half in love with you—”

“Will you hush? Alex, you must have an I.Q. close to two hundred, but there are times when I could swear you haven’t an ounce of common sense! My dear doctor! You are one of the fairest beauties I have ever seen, and I am the one who is going to be guarding you as protectively as any sheikh! Alex, I was talking about
Wayne
never changing. I had simply never met the woman I could make a lifelong commitment to until I met you. And then the one woman I discovered I could love morning, noon and night for eternity seemed to thrive upon the belief that she would one day leave me for another man!”

“You are an idiot!” Alex breathed. “I fell in love with you so quickly that it was pathetic.”

“We’ve both been fools, Alex.” Dan laughed. “But I love you, and I do believe that you love me. I think we can handle everything else from there. We have lots to talk about and lots to straighten out. But right now I do want to take a bath. We’re going to get married.”

“Now?”

“Now. I can’t chance you being a free woman a second longer. I want all the strings attached—both ways. Ali is going to have his mullah marry us. It will be a Muslim ceremony, of course. And of course, I’ll be entitled to three more wives—”

“Amusing, D’Alesio, amusing.”

“But it will be very legal, and very binding. I might have been slow to make a commitment, but I’m a big believer in till death do us part. Are you willing to extend your pact with the devil for a lifetime?”

Alex smiled slowly. “A dozen lifetimes,” she said softly.

Dan kissed her lips briefly but tenderly. “We have to hurry then. I have a helicopter coming for us in an hour. Ali is lending us his palace in Abu Dhabi for a honeymoon week. And I intend to enjoy every minute! Servants leaving food at our door, silk sheets, the moonlight on the balcony … you can dress up in those little nothing silk harem outfits so that I can undress you and you can feed me grapes one by one—”

“What about you?” Alex demanded.

“Oh, I don’t know. I tend to think that six-foot-three men look rather ridiculous in harem outfits!”

“No!” Alex laughed. “Aren’t you going to feed, me a few grapes?”

“I’ll be very happy, my love, to feed you a few grapes. In fact, I intend to keep that garrulous mouth of yours very, very busy.”

The moon was a disc of silver casting gentle ivory rays through the balcony window. Thousands of stars dotted the sky, and Alex delighted in them as the breeze off the Persian Gulf caressed her cheeks.

For so long it seemed she had existed in chaos; now she had found paradise. And though she appreciated each of the sensual attributes of her present location, she knew that no matter where she was, she would feel the same shivering, trembling, content excitement because Dan was with her.

He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck with slow, moist kisses. She smiled, clasping the hands that held her. “This was a wonderful idea,” she told him huskily.

“Yes, I think so,” he murmured. He spun her around in his arms, his eyes sparkling vividly before they closed as his lips found hers. His kiss was tender and evocative, more drawing than demanding. His hands ran massaging patterns down her back, pressing her against his growing desire as they splayed over her lower back, then explored her hips and lifted her closer as they covered her buttocks.

Her breathing was jagged when he released her. “A really wonderful idea. …” she murmured.

He smiled, and she took a moment just to love the angled lines of his face, the nose that was just slightly crooked, the furrow in his brow, the strength of his chin, the shape of his volatile mouth. She reached out a hand to run the fingers down his cheek; he caught her hand and kissed each knuckle tenderly. Then the devil jet returned to his eyes and he began to kiss her fingers, suckling them with such guileless insinuation that she laughed while feeling the smoldering fire begin to leap to flame within her.

“You are decadent, Mr. D’Alesio,” she murmured.

“I do hope so, Doctor.” He lifted her high in his arms so that she stared down at him as he turned and walked across the mosaic floor to the bed with its silks and billowing canopies. She held on to his shoulders as he began to allow her to slide slowly down, her body coming into complete contact with his, feeling the friction of each nuance of his muscles, the angle of his hips, the hardness of his masculinity. He set her on the bed so that she was kneeling, and caught his breath as she reached to release the tie on his robe. She leaned against him, pressing her lips to his chest, loving the rasp of his crisp dark chest hair against her cheek as she nuzzled him. Impishly she teased his flesh with just the tip of her tongue, to be rewarded by a soft groan. His hands wound into her hair, lifting her face to his. “I love you, Alex,” he told her tensely.