FOUR

“WHY?” HIS VOICE was low and intense. He lifted his head, and the harshness of his expression jarred her out of the dreamy euphoria she’d been experiencing. “Dammit, tell me why, Pandora.”

“I love you,” she said simply. “I always have. I always will.”

There was a fleeting expression of shock on his face. “So you yielded your fair young body as some sort of sentimental offering?” He rolled away and got off the bed. He looked down at her. Her body was warm and glowing with loving, her lips soft and swollen. Something hot and wanting leaped into his eyes. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Cover up!” he said jerkily. “The party’s over.”

Yes, the party was over. She had known what his reaction would be, but foreknowledge didn’t make his sudden rejection more bearable. She obediently pulled the satin sheet over herself.

He strode toward the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder with a menacing frown. “You didn’t answer me.”

“No, it wasn’t a sentimental offering.” Her eyes met his with clear honesty. “I tricked you.”

His soft exclamation was followed by a violent curse as he disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door. He was back in two minutes, wearing a pearl gray velour robe. He sat down beside her and gripped her shoulders firmly, anchoring her in place. “Talk,” he grated through his teeth. “It just may stop me from strangling you.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“You might start with Luis Estavas, my chaste little Pandora.”

“He was with the Brazilian polo team,” she said quietly. “Your detective should have looked into those weekend jaunts a little more closely.”

“Horses,” he said disgustedly. “I should have known it was horses. Danford?”

“A ranch in Texas.” A tiny smile curved her lips.

“Horses, again.” His lips tightened. “Sabine? Don’t tell me, let me guess. When he’s not a rock star he moonlights as a jockey?”

She shook her head. “He’s a good friend and agreed to be part of the setup.”

“Oh yes, the setup.” The words were bit out. “Let’s talk about the setup. How long has this plot been brewing in your tiny brain?”

“Since the day I ran away from your agent in London,” she said. “I knew what I was going to do. I just didn’t know how I was going to do it.”

“But I’m sure it came to you soon. You’re nothing if not innovative.”

“It wasn’t that easy.” She smiled a little sadly. “I think the most difficult part was the waiting. There were so many years to get through before I could even think of beginning.”

“Well, when you got around to it you made up for lost time.” He glared down at her. “I don’t like being lied to.”

“I know that.” She moistened her lips nervously. “But I couldn’t think of any other way.”

“Any other way than pretending to be one step above a whore? Well, let me congratulate you, Pandora. You played your role exceedingly well. You obviously have a flair for the vocation.”

She flinched. “I did what I had to do. The only way I could be sure you’d take me to bed was if I was . . . experienced because that’s the only type of women you let into your life.” She shrugged. “I thought if I sounded like a gold digger it would make you feel safer.”

“Safer?” His tone was incredulous.

She lifted her chin. “Safer,” she repeated distinctly. “You’re afraid of me, Philip. You always have been. You were so afraid of me that you had to send me away to England.” Her lips twisted bitterly. “You would have sent me to Timbuktu if you could have resolved it with your conscience.”

“I sent you to England because you were fifteen years old and becoming a hoyden.”

She shook her head. “You sent me there because you cared about me.” She made a helpless little motion with her hand. “Oh, I don’t mean romantically. I know what a scrawny mess I was then. But you did care for me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe you even loved me. I think there’s a good chance that you did. It was too strong, wasn’t it? You wouldn’t let yourself love any woman. You use them, but you won’t let yourself love them.”

His face was expressionless. “If you know that, then aren’t you a bit of a fool to let yourself be used by such a ruthless womanizer?”

“Perhaps.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “But I didn’t have any choice. I love you.”

“Stop saying that!” he said with soft violence. “You don’t love me. You developed some sort of fixation on me when you were a child and never got over it. You always were the most obstinately single-minded person I’ve ever had the misfortune to know.” He gestured to the bed. “And this was nothing but a pleasurable sexual episode.”

“The hell it was!” She was up on her knees on the bed. “That wasn’t ‘pleasurable,’ that was beautiful. Don’t you dare call it anything else!”

“Ah! The real Pandora is finally emerging. How did you manage to suppress that wild streak beneath your Khadim disguise?”

“It wasn’t easy,” she said tersely. Her face was still stormy. “I knew I’d have to time it just right or give myself away. But that’s not what we’re talking about. What happened here was beautiful. Say it, Philip.”

“It was beautiful,” he said gently. “But that doesn’t mean it was made in heaven. Sex isn’t love, Pandora.”

“I know the difference.” she said. “I’ve always known it. It’s you who’s wearing the blinders.” She drew a deep breath. “It’s time you took them off. We’ve wasted too many years already. We’re not getting any younger, Philip.”

He had to smother a smile. She looked little more than a child draped to the shoulders in the satin sheet, with her enormous dark eyes so earnest. Where had his anger gone? A moment ago he had been furious. Why couldn’t he ever hold on to that anger where Pandora was concerned? “Have you considered the possibility that it’s you who’s wearing the blinders?”

“No.” She bit her lower lip. “I can’t begin to have doubts now. I won’t let myself. Everything would be empty if I did.” She shook her head. “I know you too well to believe that.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” he said roughly. He stood up and jammed his hands into the pockets of his velour robe. “Nothing. You’ve blown me up into some kind of fantasy figure.”

“I know everything about you,” she said clearly. “Everything. I’ve made a study of you since I was twelve years old, when you saved me from getting my throat slit in the bazaar. Would you like me to tell you what I know about you, Philip?”

“I’d be fascinated.”

“You’re self-indulgent, sensual, arrogant, and much too accustomed to getting your own way,” she said calmly. “You’re also highly intelligent, have a wonderful sense of humor, and are practically a workaholic when it comes to bettering the lot of the people here in Sedikhan.”

His eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

She moistened her lips. “You’re a magnificent horseman and kind to animals. You won’t permit yourself many friends, but you’re intensely loyal to those you do have.” Her lips twisted with pain. “However, you don’t permit women to share your friendship. I think I was as close as you’ve gotten there.” She paused. Oh dear, here goes. “Not that I can blame you. With a mother like Helena Lavade, it’s amazing that you’re as tolerant of women as you are.”

He stiffened. “I don’t believe I like being probed to that extent.”

“You have a perfect right to resent it. Just as I had a right to resent that detective report you had drawn up on me. Only my excuse for prying was more valid. I knew I was going to have a battle on my hands, and I needed all the ammunition I could get.”

“And what do you think you’ve found out about my twisted psyche? Perhaps you should have turned your talents toward being a psychologist instead of a rock singer.”

She ignored his sarcasm. She had known he would become defensive when she brought Helena Lavade into the conversation. “I found out you’d been hurt,” she said quietly. “Your mother was an exceptionally beautiful woman as well as an extremely ambitious one. Helena was half-Sedikhan and half-English, and she was a Khadim. She wanted power and became your father’s mistress. That was only the first step in her plan. Helena made sure that she became pregnant by your father. Then she demanded marriage as well as a great deal of money. She knew he wanted a son and she threatened abortion if he didn’t give in to her demands.” Pandora shook her head. “She should have known better. From what I’ve heard, your father was a great deal like you. He married her all right, but he refused to pay the blackmail, imprisoned her in her quarters, and had her watched like a hawk until you were born. She was furious and full of hate. She managed to escape a few weeks after you were born and took you with her. She was very clever, and the sheikh didn’t find the two of you for almost eight years. Then he divorced Helena and brought you back to Sedikhan.” She met his gaze. “I don’t know what she did to you in those years, but the stories I heard in the bazaar weren’t pretty. She couldn’t punish your father so she punished you.” Her hands suddenly clenched on the satin sheet. “I would have killed her,” she said fiercely.

“Would you?” There was a curious tenderness in his face. “You always were a protective little thing.” His expression hardened. “That was a long time ago. I have no need of either vengeance or sympathy now.” He paused before adding deliberately, “And I have no need of you, Pandora.”

She felt a swift jab of pain. “You do need me. You just haven’t realized it yet. That’s what this is all about.” She lifted her chin. “I have to make you realize it.”

“Well, you’re not going to get the opportunity,” he said curtly. “I’m sending you back to the United States tomorrow.”

“No,” she said with great certainty. “I’m not going. I knew that would be your reaction, so I took precautions.” She made a face. “Or rather, lack of precautions.”

“I’d be interested to know how you think you can prevent me from sending you away. If you recall, I’m the reigning head of this province. I can do anything I damn well please with you.”

“But you won’t,” she said. “Because I’ve borrowed a page from your mother’s book. Not that I like the idea of being associated with that bitch in any way.”

“Which page?” he asked, his expression suddenly wary.

“I told you the timing was very delicate,” she said quietly. “Not only because I knew I couldn’t keep up the pretense for long, but for physical reasons. I went to the doctor and had him chart my fertile period.” She smiled shakily. “This is it. I could very well be pregnant with your child, Philip.”

For the briefest instant he looked as if something had knocked the breath out of him. Then his expression was once more impassive. “Blackmail is an exceedingly ugly practice.”

She sighed. “I was afraid you’d be suspicious. I can’t really blame you. I have no intention of trying to force you to marry me. If you’ll contact Abernathy in London, you’ll find he’s received a legal document absolving you of responsibility for any possible issue. If you like, I’ll ask Neal if it’s all right if I name him as the father. I don’t think he’d mind.”

“The hell you will.” The words were so violent they shocked her. He was silent for a moment, fighting for control. “Your friend can father his own child. He’s not claiming mine.”

“No one’s claiming your baby,” she said soothingly. “There may not be a baby. I just wanted to make very sure there was the possibility of one. I know how possessive you are, and I know you’ll keep me with you until you’re sure one way or the other. That gives me a few weeks, maybe even more. I’ve never been regular.”

“You’re taking a big chance,” he said quietly. “You could lose everything. There’s every possibility you may end up with an illegitimate child. I have no intention of marrying you.”

“I know you don’t. I told you I didn’t expect that. I just want to be with you. I want to be a part of your life. That will be enough for me.” She smiled mistily. “Besides, even if you did decide to kick me out, I’d still have the baby. That would be wonderful. I’ve always been pretty much alone, you know.”

Lord, how he knew that. He took an impulsive step forward. “Pandora . . .” He stopped. He stood there with disparate emotions fighting for supremacy within him: exasperation, amusement, and the poignant tenderness she had always been able to call forth so effortlessly. Then his expression clouded. “No. I won’t be manipulated. If you want to play woman of the world, get some other man to pay for your favors.”

“I do want to be your woman,” she said softly. “And your friend. And the mother of your child. I want to be everything to you. And I don’t want to sell, only to give, Philip.”

He ran one hand distractedly through his hair. “Dammit, I’ll hurt you. You know I’ll hurt you. You know me.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But if I am hurt, it may be worth it.”

“Go away, Pandora.” There was a note of pleading in the command. “For some reason I find the idea of hurting you distasteful.”

“That’s because you care about me. I find that very promising.”

“Then on your head be it. I’ve warned you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re no more than the Khadim I bought with that trinket in San Francisco. I’ll use you when and where I please and ignore you at any other time. Don’t expect anything else.”

“I don’t expect anything at all.” Her eyes were enormous as she gazed wistfully at him. “I can only hope.”

“God! What am I going to do with you?”

Love me. Only love me. “Knowing you, I imagine you’ll do exactly what suits your fancy,” she said lightly.

His lips tightened. “You’re right. And we might as well start right now. After I’ve finished using a woman I prefer that she return to her own bed. I like to sleep alone.”

“Of course,” she said softly. “I’ll leave at once.” She swung her feet to the floor, flinching a little as she felt a tingle of soreness between her thighs.

Philip muttered a low, explicit curse beneath his breath. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, lie down again. Tomorrow will do as well.”

“You’re sure?” she asked uncertainly. “I could . . .”

“Pandora,” he said through set teeth. “Shut up.”

“All right.” She curled up contentedly in the big bed again, happy with the reprieve. She hadn’t wanted to leave him so soon. “If you change your mind, just tell me.”

“Be sure of it,” he said dryly. He untied the belt of the velour robe and took it off. It was almost dark in the room now, and he was only a sleek shadow as he moved to the other side of the bed and slipped beneath the sheet. “Go to sleep.”

“I will.” She was almost asleep already. The physical and emotional release she’d experienced was having an almost narcotic effect on her. “Thank you for letting me stay,” she murmured like a polite little girl.

“It’s only for tonight,” he growled. “Don’t make so much of it.”

“Whatever you say,” she said drowsily.

He lay there on his back, separated from her by the width of the large bed, yet imagining he could still feel her warm, yielding flesh. His own body was rigid as he brought up his arm to rest it beneath his head, his eyes staring straight ahead into the darkness. “Did I hurt you?” he asked jerkily.

“What?” She tried to struggle up out of the cocoon that was wrapping her in the silken fibers of sleep. “No, not very much.”

“Well, I might have,” he said harshly. “It would have been entirely your own fault, you realize. I’m not a gentle man, but I don’t enjoy hurting women. If you’d had any sense, you would have told—” He broke off. His tirade was falling on deaf ears. He could tell by Pandora’s deep, even breathing that she was asleep.

“Damn!” It was just like the maddening brat to drift peacefully off to sleep, leaving him in this aching void of frustration. He had just had her, but he was as hard and throbbing as when he’d held her on his lap in the chair and . . . He drew a long, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He couldn’t think about it. He had to think about how she’d tricked him, about the way she’d manipulated him as if he were a blasted puppet. He had always had control over his emotions. He would just have to practice that control now.

He was infinitely careful as he slid into her warmth. First she was empty and then she was full of his hardness. From the deepest reaches of sleep she was conscious of his gentleness as he began to move. How beautiful it was, she thought dreamily. Not like before, when it had been hard and fast and breathlessly exciting. This was slow and lazy and sweetly fulfilling. She tried to open her eyes. “Philip . . .”

“Shhh . . . I didn’t mean to do this. I lay there half the night fighting it. But I can’t help myself.”

“S’all right.” Her words were slightly slurred. “I like it.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad one of us approves.” He bent down and lightly kissed one eyelid and then the other. The tempo of his thrusts escalated. She could hear the heaviness of his breathing above her and feel the tension building in him. She tried to help, but his hands were immediately at her hips, preventing her from moving. “No, I’m trying to hold on to what control I have left. I don’t want to hurt you. I shouldn’t be doing this again tonight.”

“You should be doing whatever you want to do,” she whispered. “I’ll always want you, Philip.”

He went still. “Will you?” He bent forward to kiss the delicate blue tracery of veins at her temple. “I think the only thing you want right now is to go back to sleep.” With a flurry of powerful thrusts, he gained a fiery release from the tension that had tormented him for the past hours. Then he was gone, shifting off, but not away from her this time. He pulled her close, cradling her against his shoulder so that her hair fell on his chest in a silken silver veil. Gradually his breathing grew steady and his heartbeat slowed.

“Did I help?” she asked sleepily.

“I didn’t mean to do that to you.” His words were stilted, his voice thick with disgust. “Pandora, I’m . . . sorry.”

“Did it help?” she asked again.

“Yes. Oh, Lord, yes, it helped.”

“Then that’s all that’s important.” She gave his shoulder a drowsy kiss. “I like helping you. Good night, Philip.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, and when he did his voice was a little husky. “Good night, Pandora.”

He wasn’t sure she had heard him. She was asleep again.

He found it impossible to follow suit. He should have been pleasantly relaxed, but he found himself charged with a mysterious tension that had nothing to do with desire. Tenderness. Dear heaven, he had never felt such tenderness before. It was like an immense tidal wave sweeping through him. He didn’t want to feel like this. Not about anyone or anything. He wouldn’t feel like this. He liked his life the way it was.

Pandora would belong to him, but it would be in the way he chose. What that way would be, he hadn’t the wildest idea at the moment. But one thing was certain: Making love to her again any time soon would be a mistake. He wanted her too much. That desire would give her a power he wasn’t willing to yield to anyone. He would just have to stay away from her until that fever cooled. It shouldn’t take long. No woman had ever managed to hold his interest for more than a few weeks.

However, it wasn’t desire that was putting his every nerve on edge. It was the tenderness. That emotion was far more dangerous than sexual arousal. He would have to take great care to guard himself against Pandora and that bewildering gentleness she inspired in him. He wasn’t aware that even as the resolve was made, his arm tightened around her in protection.

He was still holding her in his arms when she opened her eyes the next morning. The gray light of predawn was filtering through the windows, showing her his face, so close to her own. She lay there in blissful contentment for a little while, just letting the wonderful intimacy of the moment seep into her. How many times in the last six years had she daydreamed about Philip holding her like this?

He looked so tired. Dark shadows were painted beneath his eyes, and his cheeks were hollow. At the moment he looked every day of his thirty-eight years. When he was awake he was so filled with energy and strength that she had never been aware he could be as vulnerable as this. She felt a rush of tenderness that flowed into every part of her. She had loved him for so long, yet she had never felt this maternal protectiveness before. She dropped a light kiss on his cheekbone and reluctantly slid out of his embrace.

She tucked the sheet carefully around his shoulders and moved swiftly to the door. She mustn’t push too hard. She had given Philip enough to digest.

It was probably her fault that he looked as if he had slept very little the night before. Poor Philip. He wouldn’t like the disruption that she was about to make in his life. Well, that was just too bad. It was all for his own good, and it was up to her to prove it to him. But, for now, she’d back off and give him breathing room.

The sun was beginning to streak across the sky in a burst of pink and lavender as she crossed the stableyard. She paused for a minute to breathe in the fresh scents of earth and grass. She could feel the coolness of the breeze against her cheeks and the joy rising up in her. Dear God, how good it was to be alive on a morning like this!

She was about to turn and go into the stables when she heard a soft neigh. She glanced casually toward the fenced pasture and then froze. Oedipus! The black stallion gleaming in the first light of dawn had to be Oedipus. She was over the high fence in seconds and running along the edge of the pasture. He was so beautiful, with his clean, powerful lines and a wild pride that was evident in every muscle and tendon. She slowed to a walk as she approached him. She mustn’t startle him. Oedipus had always been only half tamed, and he was easily spooked.

“Hello, boy! Have you missed me?” Her voice was a soothing murmur as she approached him. “I’ve missed you. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I’ve been around a lot of horses since I’ve been gone, but there’s never been one like you.” He was looking straight at her, but she couldn’t tell if he remembered her or not. With Oedipus, she might never know. He certainly wasn’t sloppy about revealing his affections, she thought ruefully. Everything about his nature was difficult and challenging. In that way he reminded her of Philip. Perhaps that was why she had always been so crazy about Oedipus.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself, instead of lazing in your nice warm stall?” She was next to him now and reaching out a careful hand to stroke his nose. It was velvet beneath her palm. He looked at her as if he understood every word she was saying. “But then, you never did like to be inside, did you? Neither do I. It’s always better to be out in the open, running with the wind in your hair.” She moved slowly to his side, her hand shifting from his muzzle to his mane. “What do you say we do that now, boy?” Then, using the fence as a mounting block, she was on his back, gripping strongly with her knees. As she expected, he put up a fuss, but it was only a token protest. After she had ridden it out he settled down beautifully. “You want it, too, you devil.” She laughed softly. “You just wanted to give me a hard time. Now let’s go.”

She started out at an easy canter, graduated into a gallop, and then they ran flat out, circling the large pasture as if it were a racetrack. She bent low over his mane, talking, urging him on. Oedipus was silk and fire beneath her, and the wind was tearing at her hair with cool, careless fingers. It was glorious!

“Pandora!”

She flinched. Oh dear, Philip. She cast him a glance. He looked just as grim as he sounded. He was dressed in riding clothes, and his hair was slightly rumpled. That was unusual in a man as meticulously groomed as Philip and boded no good. He must have guessed what she was up to as soon as he had awakened and dashed down here to catch her in the act. Drat it, Philip always seemed to know when she was doing something that wouldn’t meet with his approval. She slowed Oedipus and headed him toward the fence. “Good morning, Philip. Didn’t Oedipus look beautiful? He runs like he’s still a two-year-old.”

“He’s not two years old, he’s eight,” Philip said distinctly. “And he’s learned a good deal of devilry in those eight years. For your information, the fact that he’s out here and not in the barn does not indicate that the poor old nag has been put out to pasture. He has the unpleasant habit these days of trying to kick his stall down. Last year he tried to trample a stableboy.” His eyes were blazing. “And you’re riding him bareback!”

“He likes me,” she said defiantly. “He’s always liked me. He may be mean, but I know how to handle him.” She looked Philip in the eyes. “He reminds me of you.”

For a moment indignation and outrage conflicted on his face. “Why, you little scamp,” he said softly. “I ought to—” He was suddenly chuckling and reaching up to help her off Oedipus’s back. “I’ve never had a woman compare me to a horse before. Most particularly a nasty one.”

“It’s only at times that he reminds me of you,” she amended. “Sometimes he can be quite lovable.”

His hands tightened on her waist. “Brat. You’ve grown impudent over the years. You never would have had the nerve to insult me before.”

“If I had, maybe your arrogance would have been deflated a little.”

“I was never arrogant. I was merely always and inevitably right.” He slapped Oedipus on the rump and the stallion cantered off. “Exactly as I am now.”

“If Oedipus has become so violent, why do you keep him around?”

He didn’t look at her as he took her elbow and began to propel her across the pasture. “A whim, perhaps.” His lips twisted in a sardonic smile. “No doubt I feel a subliminal kinship for the devil.” He frowned. “Regardless of the reason, you’re to stay off him.”

She didn’t answer, but her face took on a mutinous look.

“Pandora,” he said warningly.

“I can handle him,” she burst out. “I understand him.”

“The way you think you understand me?” He shook his head. “Don’t count on it. All understanding is colored by one’s point of view. Both Oedipus and I are capable of acts that you can’t imagine.”

“No, I don’t believe—”

“Pandora, if I catch you on Oedipus again, I’ll get rid of him.”

“You can’t mean that. Not after all these years. He belongs here.”

“I mean it,” he said flatly. “You’ve made sure that I can’t send you away, but there’s nothing stopping me from getting rid of Oedipus.”

She gazed at him uncertainly. “You’d really do it?”

“Try me.”

She looked away. “You know I won’t do that,” she said huskily. “I couldn’t take the chance.”

“Wise woman. I wish you’d be as reasonable about your own welfare.”

“That’s another matter entirely.”

“And one you don’t want to talk about,” he finished dryly. “All right, my little ostrich, we’ll drop it for the moment.” He was silent until they had left the pasture and were crossing the stableyard. “That was a difficult stunt to pull off bareback,” he said abruptly. “You obviously haven’t lost any of your skill while you’ve been belting out rock songs to the panting populace.”

“I rode every day,” she said quietly. “The shows were only at night. That left all the daylight hours to do what I wanted to do. I’d ride for four hours in the morning and spend the afternoon working on college correspondence courses.” She grimaced. “It nearly killed me to stay inside all that time when I wanted to be at the stables.”

“Yet you did it anyway.” He was gazing at her thoughtfully. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I figured it was better to be miserable than stupid. I told myself the mornings at the stable were my reward for that blasted studying. A fair exchange. Something I needed for something I wanted. When I finally got used to the schedule it wasn’t so bad.”

“And horses were what you wanted?”

“Always,” she said simply. “I never wanted to do anything else. You know that.”

“No glamour of the footlights for you?” His eyes searched her face.

She shook her head. “I never liked performing. It was all right once I learned to cope with it. It was better than being hungry.”

His lips tightened. “You were hungry?”

“Of course.” She looked at him in surprise. “I was fifteen years old with no job experience and just four pounds and a few pence in my purse when I ran away from Abernathy in London.” She made a face. “The money lasted two weeks. I was lucky to stretch it that far.”

“And then?”

“I managed,” she said evasively. “You don’t want to hear all that dreary business.”

“Don’t I?” he asked grimly. He was silent for a few minutes before he exclaimed violently, “What a fool you were! Anything could have happened to you.”

“I was lucky,” she said. “It wasn’t all bad. I made friends. That was important. It’s easier to live with an empty stomach than with loneliness.”

His throat felt tight. “I’m glad you found friends,” he said. “Are you going to go back to your rock group?”

She felt a swift pang at the impersonal way he asked the question. She tossed her head and smiled. “I hope not. I hope I’m going to stay with you here in Sedikhan for the rest of my life.” She tilted her head. “Do you suppose I could talk you into forming an Olympic equestrian team? I promise I’d bring home the gold.”

“The United States has an excellent team. I know some people. I’ll make a few phone calls.” He paused. “I haven’t changed my mind since last night.”

“Neither have I,” she said lightly. “I guess it’s an impasse.”

“Not for long.” His smile was touched with grimness. “I’m going to make your stay here very unhappy, Pandora. You’ll be glad to leave when the time comes.”

“We’ll see,” she said blithely. “Are you going to the irrigation project this morning?”

He nodded. “As soon as I go back and shower and change. I didn’t take time to do anything but throw on some clothes when I found you were gone. I knew you’d be looking for mischief somewhere, and the stable was the most likely place.”

“I was just trying—” she started indignantly. She broke off. She didn’t want to argue now. “May I go with you?”

“No,” he said definitely. “You may not. You may go back to your quarters and paint your toenails or loll by the pool like any good Khadim.”

She felt a quick, burning resentment. Philip evidently meant everything he had said about treating her like his mistress. “Oh well, I’ll find something to do.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. But whatever you do, be sure you’re through doing it by dinner tonight. I plan on having a few guests and I want you to act as hostess.” There was a touch of malice in the silky tone of his voice. “They’ll be delighted to have such an illustrious personality at the foot of the table. Perhaps you should wear your orange wig.”

“Perhaps I should. I threw it into my overnight case along with the other clothes I had in my dressing room. Are we expecting someone important whom I should try to impress?”

“It depends who you think is important.” He paused. “I’m inviting the good Dr. Madchen.”

Her stride faltered. “My father?”

“I thought it fitting that the two of you get together after such a long separation.” He smiled faintly. “Don’t you agree?”

She moistened her lips. “Yes. Yes, of course.” It had to come sometime. She mustn’t feel this wrenching pain. She should have known Philip would exploit any weakness he found in her defenses. “You were quite right to invite him.”

They were crossing the courtyard, and Philip stopped her for a moment with a hand on her arm. “I can hurt you, Pandora,” he said softly. “I don’t want to do that. Give in, tell me you’ll leave Sedikhan, and I’ll cancel the dinner party.”

She shook her head. “That would only be running away.” Her smile was bittersweet. “I haven’t done that since I was fifteen. You didn’t approve of it then, why should you now?”

“Pandora, dammit, I don’t—” He broke off and drew a deep breath. “Oh, hell!” His hand dropped away from her arm, and he strode away from her and on up the stairs of the entrance. “Dinner is at eight.” The heavy, studded front door slammed behind him.