Rough Surrender (25 page)

His glare only made her giggle more until his glare metamorphosed into a shake of his head and, finally, a wide smile.

“You wait, Miss Evard,” he shouted. “Revenge will be sweet. No giggling at your lord and master.”

Lord and master? Hmm
. She patted her own donkey and watched the cloud of fine dust rise to join the rest they stirred up. Sand scrunched under the animals’ hooves. The majestic stepped pyramid of Cheops towered above like some child’s sandpit construction made large.

As their string of donkeys halted at the base of the pyramid, a breeze gusted past. Faith swung her leg over her gallant steed’s back and slid off.

“Thank you, Miss Donkey,” she whispered, giving her a last pat and a scratch behind her long ears.

Each ledge of the pyramid was three feet high and their guides were determined to help by both pushing from below and by grabbing an arm each and heaving her upward. None of them dared to aid Mr. Meisner after he’d said “No,” in his most implacable stone-wedged voice. And none dared to push her from below once Mr. Meisner took over the role.

“Are you enjoying yourself back there?” she asked, trying not to sound shrewish.

“I am.” With that, and a smile, he put both hands under her bottom and heaved, shoving her up to the next step. Shards of eroded pyramid rock shifted and scraped underfoot, sending her into a frenzy of arm flailing. The two Bedouin men on either side exchanged a flurry of cheerful words with Mr. Meisner.

By the time she’d stopped flailing, they’d ceased talking. Her narrow-eyed glare at all three of them only provoked laughter and more shoving to get her up to the next step.

“I wouldn’t worry, Miss Evard. They only said how nice it was to have a light-weighted woman to push up the pyramid...even if you are a little sharp with the tongue.”

“Oh!” This time her glare might have blistered skin, yet none of them did more than grin back. Seething, she said nothing. Getting to the top would have to satisfy her. She’d get nowhere arguing. Maybe she could ask Mr. Meisner about teaching her some Arabic. Though...how much could she learn in a few days?

Undignified, resigned, she let herself be hauled and heaved to the top. Without help, she’d never have made it without stopping fifty times.

At last, she could stand up tall and look about. The winds whistled in her ears and plucked fluttery fingers at the fabric of her dress and the veil of her trusty boater hat. “My word. Amazing, Mr. Meisner.”

From the summit the whole of Egypt seemed spread out below. Pink-yellow sand where desert held sway but where there was water, a heavy green brightened the landscape.

“It is, isn’t it?” He pointed eastward and picked out landmarks. “The line of mimosa trees there marks the pyramid road.”

Faith found herself leaning in closer to soak up the warmth of his dark, humming voice as much as to be near those broad shoulders. Her toes curled a little in her shoes. If only she could simply rest her head against him...

He glanced at her, eyes softly assessing. “Come here.”

And, oh, when had a man ever known her so well? He drew her close, arm about her waist as if they were a married couple with nothing to be ashamed of in their familiarity. The few other English tourists who’d climbed up paid them no mind. She sighed and let her own arm creep across his back, enjoyed the come and go of his breath under her ear, the movement of his ribs, the feeling of belonging.

The aim of his hand altered. “There’s–the sphinx. The Nile you can see weaving through that green belt and beyond is the Citadel, and there, the minaret of the mosque.”

The wind blew hard enough to make their bodies sway. Sky–blue and clear–surrounded them on all sides, pressing in on them, breathing out with the caress of the cold wind.

“This is like flying, you know. Being up here...seeing all this...being free up above the world.”

“
Hmm
.” For once there seemed no judgment in his tone.

In the distance a biplane cruised toward them, the engine noise changing from a quiet buzz to a staccato roar. They watched together as the craft circled the pyramid then set off back to Heliopolis. For once she refused to let her feelings come to the fore. What was done was done. She’d have other air shows but she’d not easily find another man like Mr. Meisner.

“Freedom...” he said slowly, “is over-rated. Shall we sit?” He loosened his arm, gestured at the stone and they sat together with legs dangling over the step.

“I can see how you’d think that–about freedom.” She tweaked her lips ruefully, met his brown eyes and saw how the sun had washed a golden yellow through them.

“It cuts both ways, you know, Faith, if you stayed here, with me. We’d both have less freedom.” He took her hand in his and just let them rest on the other, hers nesting in his palm. “But we’d have each other.”

Oh, temptation sank its claws and fangs in her and gnawed at her insides. Damn him for being so gentle. If only he was as rough and demanding as he was at those other times she could easily refuse him.

He looked at her hand as he rubbed his thumb across her fingers. “Do you want to leave?”

A tear slipped from her eye and she strained not to sniff because then he’d know. But, of course, he raised his head and saw.

“Faith?” He smiled and lifted his hand to wipe away the tear. “At least I know it’s not just me who wants this. Are you torn, my dear?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I want to stay because I can’t see how I’ll ever find what I have with you with anyone else, and yet–”

“And yet, you like your freedom? I’m not an ogre, you know.”

She hiccupped and laughed. “Sure you’re not.”

“I meant...not all the time.” He wrapped his arm about her shoulders. “I don’t want to control every aspect of your life. Truly, at other times, I’m like any other man. Look, I can’t see into the future either. We may tire of each other. I have no idea if you or I will always match each other as we do now. This isn’t exactly a standard, run-of-the-mill relationship. There is always separation or even divorce.”

Divorce? He
did
intend them to marry. Alarm spiked her heart. This was too fast for her. Somehow, oddly, that scared her even more despite marriage being the be-all and end-all for many women.

Another biplane purred toward them. The pilot, though concealed by goggles and scarf, was clearly Baroness Raymonde de Laroche. She waved as she flew past. The tourists cheered and waved back.

Faith sucked the edge of her lower lip between her teeth and thought a while as she stared sightlessly out at the shrinking biplane. “I need to make my own decisions about my life, about flying. I doubt I could bear not to fly.”

“And that is our only point of disagreement? I’m sure we can work around it.”

“Sir, you’re rushing this too much. I need time.”

“You may have it then.” She waited for him to mention some small amount of time to force her decision. “Take as long as you like. This is not something to rush.”

As long as she liked? That he was being so darned reasonable bothered her. It made him just that little more real, more human and more desirable. It meant he was thinking of her feelings, her thoughts. And, in a ridiculous way, it made her feel pursued. She was the sparrow with a hawk coasting by overhead. How would they work out the airplane question, when he leaned one way and she the other? Surely, it was insurmountable.

No.
She should tell him, no, right then and there, only...only her body wanted to say, yes, wanted to scream,
yes
. She was at war with herself and felt the shrapnel of her thoughts like dull blows to her head and her heart.

This was all so impossible but then Mr. Meisner was close to irresistible. She wrapped her fingers together into a cat’s cradle and played with thumb against thumb.

“There is something you’ve not told me and, really, we should have no secrets from each other, should we?”

He hesitated a second. “No. We should not. Your question?”

“What was this game you spoke of? To do with Mr. Smythe?”

“Ah. I see.” For once it seemed she’d wrong-footed him and he said nothing for several long seconds. “This involves my past and also my sexual predilections.”

Involuntarily, she swung her gaze and was relieved to see the other tourists had left. Only the Bedouins remained several yards away.

“I used to satisfy my needs at a brothel because that was the only way I could. Understand? I paid the whores to take...punishment. I made sure those who did were at the least, enjoying it. Some were not ecstatic but none found it deplorable.”

Faith nodded. Though clearly this cost him something to reveal it wasn’t as stunning to her as he thought. The acting profession had some less than respectable scandals to sweep under the carpet. She knew about brothels and whores. “I do understand, and so that is the game Mr. Smythe spoke of? He expects you to frequent some brothel?”

“Yes. The card he gave me referred to one he has started in Cairo. I haven’t gone to a brothel since I came here though, Faith, and I never will again.”

She frowned. “Thank you for being honest. I–”

A distant shout made them both look down to the base of the pyramid. A man waved a handkerchief.

“I believe he means us.” Mr. Meisner helped Faith to her feet. “I think we should descend. Remember to consider what we discussed.”

As if she would forget. Nothing about Mr. Meisner was forgettable.

When they got to the bottom, the man stalked forward to clasp Mr. Meisner’s hand. “Tom Kiderman, sir. I’m a friend of Hasim’s. I have a message. Here, sir. Uh...he seems to think the woman is at quite some risk.” From the ink stains on his fingers and the severe cut of his worn brown suit, Faith wondered if Tom was a clerk of some sort.

Who was this woman at risk? She recalled the card with the name on it being given to Hasim. Could this be the name of a whore? Perhaps someone from the past? It was one thing for it to be long-forgotten history, another thing if this was a person here in Cairo.

The paper crackled as he unfolded it, the edges flipping in the strengthening breeze. From the stillness of Mr. Meisner’s face the news was serious. “Do you have an automobile, Tom?”

“Yes, sir. I drove here along the pyramid road.”

“Good. If you’ll take us back to my own vehicle, that would help enormously. Then Miss Evard can return in mine while you drive me to where Hasim waits.”

“No.” She shook her head, tried to look stern and immoveable, and no doubt failed, but heavens, she was not giving in on this. “I’m coming too. Wherever you’re going, I’m going.”

Chapter 27

At first, Faith’s words prompted him to sternly deny her. Any time money and someone’s livelihood was threatened, there might be danger. Then he caught a true look at the depth of purpose in her stance and the set of her face.

If he wanted her to understand him, this was a good place to start. As he’d told her earlier, he loved the way she approached life, how she thought. He could trust her not to jump to the wrong assumption, couldn’t he? If not then maybe they weren’t right for each other. This had to be faced sometime.

“Very well.” He ushered her, hand on elbow, toward Tom’s automobile, a red-and-black, open-top Model T, parked all by itself on the road, except for a half a dozen donkeys that looked liable to chew the tires any minute. Tom ran ahead, shooing them away. “As long as you promise to stay back where I tell you to stay. We’re messing with a man’s business, with what earns him money, and things may get nasty.”

She lifted an elegant eyebrow at him, peeking from under that little boater hat, and he had to resist the impulse to kiss her. “I shall stay where you tell me to, sir. Will you tell me more? Where are we going?”

The sand crunched underfoot. How much should he say?

“Might be best if you wait until we’re by ourselves.” He opened the back door to let her in.

“Of course.”

The drive along the pyramid road didn’t take long. Tom dropped them off then drove off ahead as they walked to the Thomas Flyer. A fine layer of sand covered her upholstery and yet another swirl of sand gusted in as they approached, hissing as it hit metal. Once the motor was cranked and they were both inside, he found his two pairs of motoring goggles.

“Let me help you with this, Faith.”

She hesitated. He knew she recalled the last time he’d given her goggles and smiled. “Blushing, my dear?”

“Never, sir. It is the heat from walking through the sand.”

“Liar.” He kissed her ear when he wrapped the straps across her hair and she turned to meet his lips. The gentle exchange, with soft embrace of lip to lip made him hard almost instantly. He rubbed his nose on hers. “No more, sweetheart. We have other things to do.” The metal tongue of the buckle at the back fitted into the fourth hole and he slipped it in, settled the goggles properly onto her head, pulled out a strand or two of hair that might be caught too tight.

“Thank you.” Even looking at him through goggles, she captivated him and tugged painfully at his heart.

“You’re welcome. I’ll explain on the way.” To his surprise, when he put his own goggles on, her slender fingers met his at the back, which only served to make his heart ache more. Damn woman. Where they were going, what they were about to do, he needed to be in control.