The Sheik Retold(4)

He looked so much like an eager puppy that I could almost imagine his lolling tongue and wagging tail. "All right," I conceded with a light laugh. "I'm already notorious for my bad manners anyway. This will only be one more sin compounded upon many."

Arbuthnot danced well enough. He swung me around the room several times before halting us beside the terrace doors. The band was still playing, but they'd switch to a waltz, an older tune called The Earl and the Girl that I'd first learned to dance to on the Victrola almost ten years before.

With a hand at my waist, Jim guided me outside where we sank together onto a wicker seat. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. "I think you are the most perfect dancer I have ever met."

His voice sounded almost breathless to me. A panting puppy now?

The garden was empty in that moment and the setting was far too romantic for my inclinations—quiet and faintly lit by colorful Japanese lanterns festooned from the palm trees and twinkling lights that outlined the winding paths.

"It is very easy to dance if you have a musical ear," I said lightly. "It's even easier when you have been in the habit of making your body do what you want all of your life. Mine has had to do as it was told since I was a small child." My flippant reply seemed to take him aback.

The dance ended, and the garden was thronged for a little time, but when the band started up again, the dancers drifted back inside. "Shall we join them?" I asked.

"It's rather jolly here in the garden," he remarked with a show of reluctance.

"Then I will make you a bargain. If you will give me a cigarette to keep me in a good temper, I shall stay here and chat instead of going back inside to dance."

He proffered his silver case. "Are you really determined to go through with this desert tour?"

"Yes, I am looking forward to it immensely."

"Why does your brother let you go alone?"

I noted a slight tremor of his hand as he held the match for me. "Why not? My arrangements have been made for some time. I came of age a few months ago and can do as I please now."

"But blast it all! Why doesn't he go with you?"

I took a long drag on my cigarette and then blew out a slow puff of smoke. I watched the wispy shape of it until it disappeared.

"Because we fell out, Aubrey and I. This is the first time in our wanderings that our inclinations have not jumped in the same direction, but he can no longer dictate my life. He wanted to go to America. I wanted a trip into the desert. We quarreled two whole days and half one night about it before finally striking a compromise. He shall go to New York, and I shall have my desert tour, after which I will go and join him."

"But what difference could a month possibly make to him?" he asked.

I shrugged. "That's Aubrey."

"It isn't safe," Arbuthnot persisted.

Although his protest rankled a bit, I truly didn't care what anyone thought about me. Let people think what they like. When you are rich enough, you don't have to care. "I don't know why everybody is making such a fuss. Plenty of other women have traveled in much wilder country than this desert."

"But there's rumor of much unrest amongst the natives since the war ended."

"Oh, pish-posh.” I flicked the ash from the cigarette with a snort. "The authorities have already dangled that bogey in front of me. I don't believe a word about the tribes being restless. Arabs are always moving about, aren't they? When I asked for facts, they only gave me generalities, so I'll go, unless the French government arrests me. Why not? I am perfectly able to take care of myself. I am used to camping. I shall be armed and I can shoot straight as any man. Moreover, I have an excellent caravan leader, whom even the authorities vouch for."

He looked to me with a pleading expression. "Miss Mayo—Diana—if you will only put off this trip just for a little and give me the right to go with you… I love you. I want you for my wife more than anything on earth. I shan't always be a penniless subaltern. One of these days I shall be able to give you a position that is worthy of you. No," he amended, "nothing could be that, but one at least that I am not ashamed to offer to you."

I gaped, too stunned to respond. I could not comprehend how I had awakened an emotion in him that I did not, could not, share. The experience was annoying in the extreme. Damn him! I was confounded why men persisted in pursuit of me, given my reputation for utter indifference. Yet he soldiered on, clasping my hand tightly between his.

"I love you; I want you. My God, Diana! Beauty like yours drives a man mad!"

"Is beauty all that a man wants in his wife?" I asked with a kind of cold wonder. "Brains and a sound body seem much more sensible requirements to me."

"But when a woman has all three, as you have, Diana…" he whispered ardently.

"Please stop!" I disengaged my hand. "I am sorry. We've been good friends, but it has never occurred to me that there could be anything beyond that. I never thought that you might love me. I never thought of you in that way at all. You must understand that when God made me, He omitted to give me a heart. I have never loved anyone in my life. Even my brother and I merely tolerate each other. We share the same cold nature." It was true—all of it.

Jim sat in stony silence.