A Summer Smile (20 page)

"Pandora?"

Pandora didn't turn around. "I saddled up Dancing Lady for you. She's still in the stall. I wasn't sure when you'd be coming. I thought I'd wait around until you got here though." She laughed shakily. "I didn't want you to think I'd stood you up."

"Pandora, what's wrong?" Zilah had drawn next to the girl and was gazing searchingly at her averted face. "What's happened?"

"Nothing much." Pandora's slim, nervous hands tightened on the bars of the fence. "It's just turned out that I'm not going to be around here anymore. I'm going away this morning. Philip gave me the good news when he drove me home last night. I'm to be whisked away in Philip's helicopter to Marasef and put on a plane for England. Isn't that exciting?"

"England?" Zilah echoed, shocked. "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" Pandora asked tautly. "Philip says that the private schools in England are very good. He's sending me to his agent in London, who's going to find just the right one for me. Philip's specified that it have a fine stable and that it specialize in training Olympic equestrian candidates. Isn't that absolutely wonderful?"

"But why so suddenly? He didn't seem at all angry last night."

"You don't understand." Pandora's words were coming with feverish rapidity. "This isn't a punishment. He's only doing what's best for me. That's what he said. This is what's best for you, Pandora.' He kept saying that over and over. He wouldn't listen to me." One hand released the bar and balled into a fist that turned her knuckles white. "He wouldn't
listen
to me."

"What about your father? Doesn't he have anything to say about this?"

"I told you, he does anything Philip tells him to do. If Philip told him to send me to darkest Africa to make a meal for the cannibals, he would do it."

"England isn't so bad," Zilah said gently. "Perhaps this
will
be best for you. Why don't you give it a chance? Philip must have thought it was, or he wouldn't be sending you away." She felt achingly sorry for the girl. She wanted to reach out and hold her, comfort her, but that control was too fragile. It might shatter at any moment.

Pandora muttered a curse that was charged with pain. "That' s not the reason he's sending me away," she said with a violence that had a touch of desperation. "I was coming too close. Philip won't let anyone come too close. He knew I'd never stop trying to make him—" She broke off and drew a deep shaky breath. "I knew that, when he was giving me all that hogwash about doing what was best for me. He just wanted to get the kid away and out of his life. He'd be safe then." She shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't even know it himself."

"Well, if you can't do anything—"

"The hell I can't!" Pandora turned to face her, and Zilah experienced a shock at the agony in the young girl's face. Agony and a relentless purpose. Her dark eyes were glowing with an almost incandescent strength. "He can send me away but he can't make my choices as to how I run my life. He can keep his wonderful school. I'll find my own way." She closed her eyes. "And it
will
be my way. I'll get over this pain," she whispered. "You'll see, I'll get over it." She opened her eyes that were glittering with unshed tears. "Good-bye, Zilah. I'll try to keep in touch."

Then she was gone. Running across the stable-yard as if she were a creature of the night fleeing the dawn.

Oh, God, such pain. It didn't seem fair that she. herself, was so happy and full of hope when Pandora was so miserable. She couldn't let her go without try ing to speak to her again. Perhaps Daniel could talk to Philip. . . . No, that would serve no purpose. She had an idea the sheikh was an immovable obje; when he made up his mind. It would only put a stra I on the friendship that Daniel valued so highly Pandora's father was in accord, there was nothing

anyone could do to prevent her being sent to England. Perhaps the best thing Zilah could do would be to try to reconcile Pandora to the idea and offer her all the support she could give her.

Zilah suddenly had no desire to go riding. All she wanted to do was go back to Daniel's arms, where she felt so secure. Where she could experience again that hope she had known this morning. She had turned away and had already taken a few strides toward the house when she stopped suddenly. Dancing Lady. Pandora had said she had already saddled her. She'd have to go into the stable and unsaddle her. Her steps were quick with impatience as she crossed the stableyard and entered the shadowy stall-lined barn. Dancing Lady was in the first stall, and Zilah reached for the latch to open the wooden gate.

"I thought for a few minutes you were going to disappoint me."

She froze. Her heart stopped and then started beating again in double-time. Hassan!

He stepped out from behind a high stack of baled hay, his rifle held almost casually in the crook of his arm. "You looked as if you were undecided whether to come into the stable or not." He smiled mockingly, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light. "That would have been a pity. I was getting tired of my long vigil. I've been here almost twenty-four hours, you know. I was even tempted to take the little silver-haired girl as hostage when she came in this morning to saddle the mare. I stopped only because I didn't know who she was. After waiting so long I didn't want to waste my valuable time on a nobody."

"How did you know I was here?" Zilah asked jerkily.

"This is a very small world and the sheikh and his guests are of prominent interest to the residents. I asked a few discreet questions in the bazaar." His

hand tightened on the stock of the rifle. "I listened and I watched. I even saw you and Seifert at a distance on one of your early morning rides a few days ago. Did you know this rifle has a telescopic sight?" His palm rubbed the wood caressingly. "I can't tell you how close I was to killing Seifert. But it wouldn't have done me any good to kill him if you got away. Then they would have gotten scared and moved you to Zalandan right away."

"You still think you can get away with holding me hostage?" Zilah shook her head. "It didn't work last time." She lifted her chin. "Daniel made fools of you and your men."

"He caught us off guard," Hassan snarled. "It won't happen again." A wavering ray of light flickered into the dimness and she could see him more clearly. The sight wasn't encouraging. He looked wild, desperate, and very deadly. His madras shirt and black pants were dirty and stained and he had a dark stubble on his thin cheeks.

"They've already caught the other three men and they'll catch you too." Hassan had stiffened at her words. "You didn't know that, did you? They caught them yesterday morning."

"They were cowards and fools. They gave up before the game was half played." Hassan's lips twisted. "Now that I have you, the game begins again with a brand new deck of cards. This time I'll have to think of something to do to you to convince Ben Raschid that the game is to be played in earnest."

Zilah felt a chill of terror run down her spine. "But you don't have me." She tried to keep her voice steady. "How do you expect to get me away from the compound? Someone is sure to see you."

"Then they'll also see the gun at your back." He smiled faintly. "And I doubt if they'll interfere."

"Zilah, I'm glad I caught you," Daniel said as he entered the stable. He was grinning and his voice was light and teasing. "What the devil do you mean running out—" He broke off as he saw the tenseness in her figure.

He stiffened, his body automatically tautening with the instinct of a jungle animal sensing danger. Then his gaze discovered the threatening figure in the deeper shadows to the left of the door. He uttered a low, violent curse.

"Ah, our special envoy, Mr. Seifert," Hassan said silkily. "This is an unexpected pleasure. I thought I was going to have to demand your head as part of the ransom of my brother, but now that won't be necessary."

"You're a fool, Hassan. Clancy Donahue has half the agents on the security team scouring the province for you. You'll never get away with it," Daniel said roughly. "If you're smart, you'll run like hell and only hope it's fast enough."

"I don't give up that easily. My brother is rotting in that tyrant's prison in Marasef." Hassan's eyes were flickering wildly in his taut face. "The others may give in, but I will not." He gestured with the rifle. "Get away from that door."

Daniel hesitated and then moved slowly to stand beside Zilah at the stall. He watched with narrowed eyes while Hassan edged sidewise until he was standing in front of the open stable door facing them.

Hassan smiled with satisfaction. "Now, come along, my pretty whore, we have a long way to go."

Daniel took an impulsive step forward and then stopped as the barrel of the rifle lifted. "I'm going to kill you." Daniel's voice was deadly certain. "I hope you know that, Hassan. You're building your own funeral pyre, stick by stick."

"Am I?" A mocking smile touched Hassan's lips again. "I seem to have drawn blood. Is it possible you feel something more than responsibility for the pretty lady? I've heard that some men form sentimental attachments to prostitutes on occasion, but I thought you were a man of discrimination."

"Hassan ..." Daniel grated warningly between set teeth.

"Did she tell you about the House of the Yellow Door? Hassan taunted. "She wasn't even a Khadim, just a common wh— Take another step and I'll put a bullet hole through the center of your forehead. I gather you didn't know about the lady's past."

"I knew."

Zilah felt a galvanic shock that was more traumatic than the one that had shaken her when she first saw Hassan. Her eyes flew to Daniel's set face. He had known all along! But if that were true, why hadn't he told her?

Hassan's brow rose. "Yet still so protective? She must be very good. I'll have to sample her myself while she's in my . . . care."

"Stick by stick," Daniel repeated coldly. "And it will be very painful, Hassan."

"But you won't be around to light that pyre." Hassan's finger tightened on the trigger. "Will you, Seifert?"

"No!" Zilah took an impulsive step forward. "Don't hurt him. I'm the one you want. Killing Daniel won't help free your brother. If you won't hurt him, I'll come with you without a struggle."

"Shut up, Zilah," Daniel said hoarsely.

"See how eager she is to try a new man?" Hassan's lips curved in a smug smile. "You'll do anything I want, won't you, pretty lady?"

"Yes, anything," Zilah whispered. "Please, don't kill him."

Daniel's face was drawn and haggard with pain. "For God's sake, Zilah, can't you see he's just—"

There was a sudden blur of movement and the rifle went off.

"Daniel!" Zilah wasn't even aware that she had screamed. But the bullet hadn't hit Daniel. It had ricocheted off the post beside them. The blur of movement had been Pandora bolting through the door and grabbing the rifle. She was now hanging on to Hassan like a ferocious little mongoose on a cobra. Then Daniel was across the yards separating them, ripping the gun from Hassan's grip with one hand and giving him a powerful karate blow on the neck with the other.

Hassan didn't make a sound as he slumped to the ground.

It was all over. It had happened so fast, Zilah felt slightly dazed. Daniel was safe. She felt such a surge of thanksgiving that her knees were shaking. She slowly crossed to where Daniel was stripping off his belt. He flipped the unconscious Hassan over on his stomach. "Are you all right?" he asked curtly. "He didn't hurt you before I got here?"

"No, I'm fine. I was here for only a few minutes with him. Before that I was in the stableyard with Pandora." She turned to Pandora, who was picking herself up off the floor and brushing hay and sawdust off her jeans. "Why did you come back? Not that I wasn't extremely glad to see you."

Pandora shrugged. "I didn't say good-bye to Oedpius. I couldn't leave without doing that. Then I saw that slime"—she gestured to Hassan—"pointing his gun at you. So I jumped him."

"And quite efficiently too," Daniel said with a grin. "If you ever need a job, remind me to give you a first-class recommendation to Clancy Donahue."

"You could have been killed," Zilah said.

"I wasn't," Pandora said simply. "No use looking back at might-have-beens."

It was almost as if it were Daniel speaking. Their philosophies were so similar. Practical, direct, honest.

Honest? Zilah felt an aftershock go through her as she remembered Daniel's admission that he had known about her past. Known and not told her that he had known.

"When did you find out about the House of the Yellow Door?" she whispered.

He didn't glance up from strapping Hassan's hands behind his back with a belt. "When you had the fever," he said absently. "You said something and I put Clancy through the third degree."

"Clancy told you," she repeated numbly. "Of course, Clancy knew everything. He was there." She folded her arms across her breasts. She was suddenly shivering. When hope died, it did that to you, she thought dully. It turned the whole world into ice. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it best not to." He glanced up and saw the expression on her face. He suddenly stiffened warily. "It wasn't important anyway."

"Wasn't it?" Her voice was strained. "I think it was. I think it was very important. If I'd known, I never would have pushed as I did last night. You must have been very embarrassed. I'm sorry I put you in that position."