‘It is custom,’ he said sternly, ‘and foolish. I have tried to change it—’
‘Yeah.’ She laughed. ‘I’ll bet.’
‘My people obey me out of respect. If they thought I was wrong, the elders would say so.’
‘Remarkable! You’ve got yourself believing your own lies!’
‘And what, precisely, is that supposed to mean?’ he said, glaring at her.
‘You know damned well what it means! You make yourself out to be this benevolent ruler, this wonderful good guy, but you’re not! You’re—you’re—’
‘A thief. A despot. A greedy pig who wants whatever he can get from Bennettco, or else I’ll—’ His brow furrowed. ‘I never did ask, Joanna, what is it, exactly, that I’ll do to the operation if I’m not properly bought off?’
‘How should I know?’ she cried angrily. ‘Raid the camp. Harass the workers. Disrupt things any way you can. Does it matter?’
‘And if I told you that you’re wrong…?’
‘Listen, Khalil, I’m not going to play this silly game! You want to pretend you’re Lawrence of Arabia? Fine. Wear that foolish outfit. Ride that ridiculous horse. Stand around and look fierce while your people prostrate themselves before you. As for me, all I want—’
She cried out as he caught hold of her shoulders.
‘All you want,’ he said through his teeth, ‘is to categorise me. And if I don’t fit, you’ll poke, prod, shove and squeeze until I do!’
‘All I want,’ Joanna said, her eyes snapping defiance, ‘is to go back to Casablanca.’
‘Nothing would suit me better! A scorpion would make a better guest than you!’
‘I am not your guest!’
‘Indeed you are not.’ His lip curled with distaste. ‘You are an unwelcome visitor.’
‘Fine! Then put me on your plane and send me back!’
‘I shall, the instant your father agrees to my conditions.’
‘Well, then,’ she said, tossing her head, ‘tell your pilot to rev up those engines. Your money should be on its way.’
A furrow appeared between his dark eyebrows. ‘Your father has yet to answer me, Joanna.’
She stared at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It is quite simple. He knows what I want for your return, but he has not offered a reply.’
Joanna’s eyes searched his face. ‘You mean, your messenger didn’t wait for one.’
Khalil shook his head. ‘I mean what I said.’ His words were clipped and cold. ‘Your father has not responded.’
‘Well, how could he? If you asked some unholy sum of money, a million billion dollars or whatever, he’d have to find a way to—’
He gave her a thin smile. ‘Is that what you think you’re worth?’
‘The question isn’t what I think I’m worth,’ she said coldly. ‘It’s what you think you can get for me.’
‘I have asked a great deal,’ he said, his eyes on her face.
Why did his answer make her heartbeat quicken? The words were simple, yet they seemed to hold a complexity of meaning. Joanna gave him what she hoped was an easygoing smile.
‘Really.’
‘A great, great deal,’ he said softly.
‘All right, tell me. How many dollars am I worth?’
‘I didn’t ask for dollars.’
‘Swiss francs, then. Or Deutschmarks. Or—’
‘I told you before, I want no money for you.’
Joanna’s attempted nonchalance vanished. ‘For God’s sake,’ she snapped, ‘what did you ask from my father, then? Diamonds? Gold?’
Khalil’s eyes met hers. ‘I have demanded that your father withdraw from the contract with Abu Al Zouad.’
‘What?’
‘I said—’
‘I heard you—but I don’t believe you. All this talk about how you love your people and how they love you, and now you’re trying to blackmail Bennettco into pulling out of a million-dollar deal that would pump money and jobs into your country?’
Khalil’s eyes darkened. ‘He is to withdraw from it and restructure it, so that the people benefit, not Abu.’
‘Oh. Oh, of course. You want him to rewrite the contract—’
‘Exactly.’
‘—to rewrite it according to your dictates.’
‘Yes.’
Joanna laughed. ‘You’re good at this, you know that? I mean, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe you! Come on, Khalil. The only benefit you have in mind is for yourself.’
His expression hardened. ‘Think what you will, Joanna. I have sent your father the terms of your release. Now, it is up to him to reply.’
‘He will. He definitely will. And when he does—’
But Sam should have replied already, she thought with a start. He should have said, OK, I’ll do whatever you want, just set my daughter free.
No. No, he couldn’t do that. She wasn’t looking at things clearly. Sam wasn’t about to cave in, not without being certain Khalil would live up to his end of the deal. Kidnappers were not known for honouring their agreements; her father would want to do everything in his power to satisfy himself that he could trust Khalil to let her go before he said yes, otherwise he might put her in even greater jeopardy.
She looked up. Khalil was watching her closely. His expression was unreadable, but the little smile of triumph that had been on his lips moments ago was gone. In its place was a look that might almost have been sympathy.
‘I cannot imagine your father will have trouble deciding which he prefers,’ he said softly, ‘his daughter or his contract with the sultan.’
Joanna flushed. The bastard wasn’t feeling sympathy, he was just worried that her father might not give him what he’d asked for!
‘My father’s an astute businessman,’ she said. ‘Why should he trust you? He’ll want some guarantee that you won’t hurt me after he agrees to your demands.’
‘My message made no mention of hurting you,’ he said stiffly.
‘Ah. I see. You simply told him you’d keep me as your guest forever if he didn’t do what you wanted.’
Khalil began to grin. ‘Something like that.’
Joanna’s jaunty smile faded. ‘What do you mean?’
He shrugged lazily. ‘I suggested that if he did not want you back, we would accommodate you here.’
‘Accommodate me?’
‘You would learn to live among my people.’ Still smiling, he strolled across the room to where her green silk dress lay across the chair. ‘It will not be the life you know,’ he said, picking up the dress. It slipped through his fingers, incongruously delicate and insubstantial, and fell back to the chair. ‘But at least it would stop your complaining.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Our women lead busy lives. Only idle women have time to complain. You would start simply, tending the chickens and the goats, but if you showed you were interested in learning they would teach you to cook, to spin—’
‘Never!’ The word exploded from her lips. ‘Never, do you hear me? I’d sooner—I’d sooner—’
‘What would you sooner do?’ He looked across the room at her, his eyes dark. ‘Surely, you would have to do something. We are all productive here, everyone but the sick, the elderly, and the children.’
He started slowly towards her. Joanna’s heart skipped a beat. She wanted to step back, to put as much distance as the confines of the room permitted between herself and the man pacing towards her, but she was determined to stand her ground.
‘You fit none of those categories,’ he said, stopping inches from her. He gave her a long, slow look, one that left a trail of heat across her skin and she thought suddenly that it was a good thing she hadn’t fought him about giving her his robe, for if she had—if she had, he would surely see the quickening of her breath, the flush that she felt rising over her entire body, the terrible, hateful way her breasts were lifting and hardening as he looked at her.
‘You are not elderly, or il
l, or a child, Joanna,’ he said softly. He reached his hand out to her and caught a strand of auburn hair between his fingers. ‘I would have to find some other use for you, I’m afraid.’
‘My father will come for me,’ she said fiercely. ‘And—and when he does—’ Her breath caught as he put his arms around her.
‘I think,’ he said, his voice husky, ‘I think I would not waste you on the goats, even if you wished it.’
‘I would rather—’ He put his lips to her hair and she swallowed hard. ‘I would rather tend the goats than—than—’