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Authors: Connie Mason

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Zara shook her head. She couldn’t manage a bite. Nor could she pretend that Lady Lanford’s shocking disclosure hadn’t affected Jamal. She had only to look at him to know he was deeply distressed. Allah help her. Why were there so many obstacles to her happiness?

Jamal left Zara a short time later. He needed to speak to his mother before Zara became more upset than she already was. It wasn’t good for the baby. Somehow he had to make his mother understand that Zara was the woman he loved, the only woman he wanted. His father’s death had occurred a long time ago. Nothing would bring him back. Blaming Zara for something her father had done was not fair.

Lady Eloise was waiting for Jamal in the library. He could tell she was genuinely disturbed, and he felt her pain keenly.

“Are you all right, Mother?”

“Tell me about Zara, son,” Lady Eloise began without preamble. “How did you meet Youssef’s daughter?”

“Sit down, Mother, while I explain how Zara came to mean so much to me. When I finish, you will know why I love her as I do.”

“I prefer to stand. Begin, son.”

Jamal began at the beginning, explaining how he’d met Zara and everything that had taken place since that day. “So you see, Mother,” he concluded, “Zara saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“Could you find no other way to repay her?” Lady Eloise asked.

While Jamal was speaking with his mother in the library, Zara came to a decision. She needed to be present while Jamal and his mother discussed her future. It was her fate they were deciding, and she wanted to have her say. She needed to let Lady Lanford know how much she loved her son.

With that thought in mind, Zara left the bed chamber and crept down the stairs, meeting no one. She located the library by the drone of voices coming from behind the partially closed door. She intended to knock but froze with her hand raised when she heard her name spoken in anger by Jamal’s mother.

“Lady Caroline is twice the lady Zara is,” Lady Eloise argued. “She brings a hefty dowry and is a perfect match for you.”

“I don’t love Lady Caroline, Mother.”

“I didn’t love your father when he bought me for his harem. Love came later.”

“I married Zara; nothing will change that.”

“Did you marry her in an Islamic ceremony?”

“Of course.”

Lady Eloise smiled smugly. “Then ’tis a simple matter to divorce her and marry Lady Caroline. I can never accept the daughter of the man who killed my beloved Ahab.”

Zara didn’t wait around to hear Jamal’s answer. Turning on her heel, she fled back to her room.

Jamal stared at his mother. He’d never known her to harbor such animosity toward another. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mother. I understand your feelings, but I don’t share them. I loved Father as much as you, but Zara isn’t the one who killed him and I don’t hold her responsible. If not for Zara I wouldn’t be standing here today. She gave me the will to live when I was prepared to die.”

Lady Eloise gave Jamal a look filled with sadness and regret. “I know I’m being unreasonable, son, but I can’t help it. Obviously you love Zara. Just don’t ask
me
to love her.”

At a loss for words, Jamal turned away, saddened by his mother’s obstinacy where Zara was concerned. “I hope you’ll change your mind once you get to know Zara. I’m going upstairs to my wife. She was understandably upset when I left her.”

Zara was more than upset, she was devastated. How could she and Jamal expect to find happiness when his mother despised her for being Youssef’s daughter? There was no future for her here in England, none at all. Jamal belonged with Lady Caroline, a woman born to be an earl’s wife. She should have stayed in Morocco with her father, Zara thought. She was stupid to think she could have any place in Jamal’s new life as an
earl. She would only be a hindrance to Jamal if she remained his wife.

Her dilemma had but one solution. She must return to Morocco. She would never come between a mother and her son. In time Jamal would come to hate her, and she couldn’t bear that.

The door opened, scattering Zara’s thoughts. Jamal entered the room, closing the door behind him. “Are you all right, love? Why aren’t you resting?”

Zara turned from the window, drinking in the sight of Jamal as if it were the last time she would look upon him. “I was waiting for you. Did you speak with your mother?”

In two steps he was beside her, folding her in his arms. “Forget Mother. She’ll come around. Learning that you were Youssef’s daughter was a bit of a surprise. Give her time, love. When she learns you’re going to give her a grandchild, she’ll change her mind.”

He kissed her, a slow, lingering kiss that brought tears to Zara’s eyes. She loved him so. She’d do anything to make him happy, even leave him. He might not realize it at first, but later he’d come to appreciate what she’d done for him. He deserved an English beauty like Lady Caroline, not a Berber outlaw’s daughter for a wife.

Zara returned his kiss, sadly aware that her time with Jamal was limited. One day soon she would make her way back to the
Plunderer
and return to Morocco with Captain Brahim. But for now she wanted to savor the sweetness of Jamal’s loving, storing away enough memories to last a lifetime.

When Jamal found himself becoming aroused by Zara’s kisses, he reluctantly set her away from him. “You’re tired, love. We’ve the rest of our lives to make love. I don’t want to hurt you or our child.”

“I don’t want to wait, Jamal. Make love to me now. I need you.”

Jamal searched her face, concerned for her well-being. Desperation and fear were clearly visible in the green depths of her expressive eyes. Zara had never exhibited fear before, and it alarmed him. She was overwrought, but that was only natural given his mother’s reaction to her. Still, if making love to her would offer her comfort, he certainly wasn’t going to deny her.

“Ah, sweet vixen, making love to you is my pleasure.”

He undressed her slowly, carefully manipulating the buttons on the front of her dress and pulling it down her arms. He kissed her bare shoulders and then her lips, caressing the inside of her mouth with his tongue. He delved deeper and she opened to him, her tongue dancing with his in sweet surrender.

Her dress fell to the floor with the downward sweep of his hands and he lifted her out of the puddle of cloth. She wore no corset. A single tie held her chemise together and when he released it her breasts spilled free. He stared at the full mounds before bending his head and taking a nipple into his mouth.

“I have never tasted anything sweeter,” he groaned against the budding crest as he licked and sucked first one then the other into taut little
nubs. “Sunlight and warm rain. Soft Moroccan nights and moonlight. Your golden skin reminds me of everything I love.”

Zara moaned, inflamed by his words. He had but to touch her and she turned to fire.

Her chemise and petticoats were dispatched with dexterity. Her stockings and shoes followed. When she stood before him naked and glowing, she began pulling at his shirt. Jamal laughed at her eagerness, helping her to remove his clothing. When they were both naked, he lifted her into his arms and took her with him onto the soft feather mattress. He kissed her until she clung to him as though to life itself. After several soul-wrenching kisses he dragged his mouth from hers long enough to look at her.

Her eyes were languid, her expression bemused as his gaze slid from her face, past her flushed breasts to her slightly rounded stomach. He placed a kiss where his child grew, his expression one of rapt adoration.

Zara started to speak but lost the ability when he stroked his hand between her legs. She shivered, raising her hands to his back and caressing his smooth, golden flesh. She touched her lips to his chest.

“You’re magnificent,” she murmured against his heated skin. “There will never be another man like you.”

Jamal’s dark brows rose. “Another man? There had better not be.”

He kissed her again, then again, the sweet taste and scent of her driving him wild. He wanted to
take it easy with her, but urgency drove him. To touch Zara was to want her.

He explored her thoroughly, his hands, mouth and tongue savoring every inch of her golden skin. He licked and suckled her breasts, kissed the fragile curve of her stomach, trailed a wet path to her slick sheath, drawing a quivering cry from her when his tongue delved inside. He spread her legs wider and buried his head between them, savoring the liquid heat of her response. Her fingers dug into his arms as she arched sharply upward, soaring like a bird to a place where splendor awaited.

“Allah help me! I’m dying!”

“Nay, sweet vixen. Death isn’t this sweet. Savor the moment. Come, Zara, come now.”

The feel of his lips, the thrust of his tongue, the solid weight of his hands guiding her hips unleashed a raw passion she couldn’t control as she reached for pleasure and found pure rapture.

Rising up slowly, Jamal lowered his weight upon her and slid inside her. He groaned as the walls of her sheath tightened around him, the pleasure so intense, his control nearly deserted him. Zara shifted her hips to take him deeper. He gave her everything he had, his very soul, as he moved against her, his hips thrusting against hers, his flanks quivering.

Clutching him tightly, Zara rode the crest with him. The earth moved, the heavens shook, and Zara knew nothing would ever equal what she and Jamal had just shared.

“Are you all right?” Jamal asked when his
breathing returned to normal. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“How could anything so wonderful hurt me?”

“Nevertheless, I’d feel better if you’d take a long nap.”

“I’ll rest easier if you lie here beside me. I’m not ready for you to leave me yet.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” Jamal said as he turned Zara on her side and fit her into the curve of his body.

Sleep came instantly. When Jamal awoke later it was full dark and the fire in the grate had burned down. He rose quietly, rekindled the fire and climbed back beneath the covers with Zara. A muffled groan slid past his lips when she pressed her buttocks against the heat of his loins. He was hard again. His sex was full and painfully heavy. Reluctant to disturb Zara’s sleep, he began to ease out of bed.

“Nay, don’t leave.”

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“As you can see, I’m not.”

“I have to leave, sweet vixen.” He took her hand and placed it on his erection. “See what you do to me? If I remain I can’t guarantee that the randy lad between my legs will behave.”

“I don’t want him to behave.” She ground her buttocks into his groin. “Please, Jamal.”

Surrendering to Zara’s plea, Jamal shifted her legs, positioned himself behind her, and eased into her slick sheath. This time he worked her slow and easy, drawing out her passion along with his. When he finally granted her release, she couldn’t stop sobbing.

Alarmed, Jamal asked, “What is it, love? Why are you crying?”

She didn’t dare tell him the truth, that she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him. She thanked Allah she would have his child to love. “I’m crying because I’m happy,” she lied.

He didn’t believe her. “You’re still worried about my mother, aren’t you?”

Zara shrugged. “I did so want her to like me.”

“She will. Give her time. She’ll come around once she realizes how much I love you. Shall we dress and go down to dinner?”

“Go without me,” Zara urged. “Send something up to me on a tray. I… can’t stand another confrontation.”

He stared at her in consternation. “Perhaps that would be best. Things will look better tomorrow.”

Zara gave him a sad smile. Things would never look better.

Not tomorrow, not ever.

Chapter Twenty-one

 

Zara’s resolve to leave strengthened as the days passed. Lady Eloise found countless opportunities to throw Jamal and Lady Caroline together. The haughty blonde was invited to dinner nearly every night. One night her carriage failed to arrive to take her home and Jamal was compelled to act as escort. Another night Zara watched jealously as Caroline engaged Jamal in intimate conversation, dominating his attention for the entire evening. They looked so right together that Zara felt like an outsider.

Zara was feeling under the weather one afternoon when Caroline showed up to go riding with Lady Eloise. Using fatigue as an excuse, Lady Eloise graciously bowed out, volunteering Jamal in her stead. Zara thought Jamal didn’t protest vigorously enough as he acquiesced to his
mother’s wishes. Zara spoke her mind while he was changing into his riding clothes.

“I can’t be rude, love,” he answered. “But I do intend to have a talk with Mother. Her efforts to throw Caroline and me together are becoming tedious. I promise it won’t happen again. You can join us if you wish.”

The last thing Zara wanted to do was squeeze her burgeoning figure into a riding habit. Her wide skirts still disguised her pregnancy, but it wouldn’t be long before it became apparent that she was increasing. “I’m not up to riding today.”

Jamal became immediately concerned. “Are you unwell?”

“I’m pregnant,” Zara said crossly, as if that explained everything.

He sent her a tender smile. “I’m quite aware of that. During the night, when you’re cuddled up against me, I can feel the babe move. I can’t explain just how that makes me feel except to say that it’s wonderfully satisfying.”

Zara refused to be placated. “You’d better go. It isn’t polite to keep Lady Caroline waiting.”

“I don’t give a bloody damn about Caroline. This farce has gone far enough. I haven’t wanted to upset Mother, but this has got to stop.”

Once again Zara felt as if she was coming between Lady Lanford and her son, and it wasn’t a good feeling.

Several days passed before Zara found the opportunity to slip away. The day was bright, sunny and cold, perfect for hawking. Haroun and Jamal decided they would not find a better day to try
out the pair of peregrine falcons Jamal’s gamekeeper had just purchased. They left early that morning.

Lady Eloise, declaring the day too fine to waste, went calling. She did not ask Zara to accompany her. Not that Zara minded. She had studiously kept out of Lady Eloise’s way, not wishing to cause Jamal’s mother further distress by forcing herself upon the woman.

Zara knew she’d not find a better time to journey to London. She packed only her robes and boots, which she intended to wear during the voyage, stuffing them in a pillowcase for easy carrying. Unfortunately, Zinab entered her chamber with a breakfast tray while she was packing.

“Are you going somewhere, Zara?”

Zara blanched when she saw Zinab standing in the doorway. There was no help for it now. Zinab would see through her lie, so she was forced to tell the truth. “I’m leaving.”

Zinab carefully set down the tray. “For good?”

“For good,” Zara declared firmly. “I can’t bear seeing Lady Eloise distressed on my account. Jamal will be better off without me. Lady Caroline is the kind of wife he needs.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Zinab chided. “Jamal loves you. You’re carrying his child. Do you actually think he’ll let you leave him?”

“I don’t know,” Zara said in a voice so low Zinab had to strain to hear her. “’Tis for the best. Jamal will understand that and let me go.”

“You’re overwrought, Zara. Why don’t you lie down? I’ll ask Dr. ben Israel to look in on you.”

Zara grasped her arm. “Nay, you’re not to tell a soul! Promise me, Zinab. You’re the only one I can trust.”

“Don’t ask that of me. You don’t even know the way to London.”

“The coachman will take us,” a third voice interjected.

Both Zara and Zinab stared at the intruder, surprised to find Saha standing behind them. They’d been so intent upon their argument that they had failed to hear Saha enter the chamber.

“Us?” Zara repeated. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve decided to leave this cursed country,” Saha said. “I hate England. Jamal said I could leave if I was unhappy, and I am. I’m going to return to Morocco aboard the
Plunderer
. Captain Brahim promised me a place in his harem, and I’m going to accept. He’s handsome and kind and can afford to keep his women in luxurious accommodations.” She sent Zara a sly smile. “It took little persuasion to convince the coachman to take me to London.

“It never occurred to me that
you’d
want to leave,” Saha continued. “Can’t say that I blame you. I’ve spoken at length with Lady Lanford, you know. She’ll never accept you as Jamal’s wife. In time Jamal will come to hate you.” This last vicious barb was rendered with a malicious smile.

“Don’t listen to her, Zara,” Zinab urged.

“What about Haroun?” Zara asked Saha.

Saha shrugged. “What about him? This is England and I can do as I please. Besides,” she added, sending a venomous glance at Zinab, “Haroun
is too taken with Zinab these days to pay attention to me.”

Zinab blushed, aware of Haroun’s growing fondness for her. “You do not care for Haroun. He is a good man and deserves better than you.”

“I never did want him,” Saha claimed. “You’re welcome to him.” She turned to Zara. “Are you coming with me?”

“Nay, Zara, don’t do it,” Zinab pleaded.

“Aye, I’m ready,” Zara said, ignoring Zinab as she clutched the pillowcase to her chest.

“Lord Jamal will be angry when he catches up with you,” Zinab warned.

The ladies were blissfully unaware that Jamal stood in the open doorway, his anger growing as he listened to their conversation.

“I’m
very
angry.” Jamal’s harsh words sent fear racing through Zara. “Leave us,” he ordered, his gaze never wavering from Zara’s pale face. The cold authority in his voice set the women into motion as they headed for the door.

“Saha, before you leave, I want you to know that I spoke with the coachman. Both Haroun and I agree that you should leave. Haroun awaits you by the coach. He will accompany you to London and explain to Captain Brahim. You won’t be cast adrift penniless, though I know Brahim is smitten with you and will see to your welfare.”

“Lord Jamal—”

“Say nothing, Saha, just leave. I wish to speak to my wife in private.” Saha scurried away to join Haroun. She couldn’t wait to leave this dreary place behind.

Zara held her ground beneath Jamal’s withering
gaze. “I thought you went hawking.”

“My horse threw a shoe, forcing us to return. I saw the coach sitting outside the front door and knew something was amiss. Mother took the lighter carriage this morning. A word with the coachman confirmed my suspicions. I knew Saha wished to leave and I was going to arrange it eventually. I had no idea you intended to leave with her until I overheard your conversation.”

“How long have you been listening?”

“Long enough. Did you think I’d allow you to leave with my child growing inside you?”

A muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth, the only sign of his anger, except for his outward calmness. It was unlike Jamal to be so calm.

“I hoped you’d realize that it was for your own good. I never wanted to come between you and your mother. In time you’d come to hate me.”

“Let me be the judge of what’s good for me. I thought you knew better than to believe Saha’s vicious lies.”

“You heard?”

He nodded. “You should trust me, Zara. Let me handle Mother. ’Tis time to tell her about the baby.”

“You truly don’t wish to be married to Lady Caroline?”

Jamal spit out a curse. “Caroline is a blue-blooded snob. She perceives me as a romantic figure. She’s intrigued by my mixed heritage and my wealth. Mother told her it was a simple matter to divorce in Islamic law, and Caroline mistakenly believed I’d divorce you and marry her. She
is too dimwitted to realize I love you too much to let you go.”

“Your mother will never accept me.”

“Mother didn’t marry you, I did. As soon as you and our child can travel, we’ll visit all my estates and pick out one where you’ll be happy. Lanford Manor has always been my favorite, but I want you to choose our home. Mother loves Lanford Manor; I suspect she’ll prefer to remain here.”

“I don’t ever want you to be sorry you married me.”

“Are you sorry you married
me
?”

“Never!”

“That’s how I feel. Forget about leaving. You must have been truly distraught to think I’d let you go.” He took her into his arms and nuzzled her cheek. It was impossible to remain angry with her despite her flawed thinking. How could she believe he’d be better off without her? “Promise you won’t do anything foolish like that again?”

Displaying her old spunk, Zara squared her shoulders and stared at him. “I won’t promise you anything, Sheik Jamal, except to love you with my whole heart.”

“Will you agree to a Christian wedding, complete with guests and reception? I don’t want the legality of our marriage to be questioned. Or our child’s right to inherit.”

Zara frowned. She knew nothing of Christianity. “Will it make you happy? Must I forsake Allah?”

“We are married no matter what religion we hold to. Allah knows we are wed, but we must show the Christian world that we are man and
wife. I will not insist upon it if you are against it.”

“You are right, Jamal. We must wed again to prove to the world that we are united before both Allah and the Christian God.”

“Shall we go downstairs and tell Mother about the baby?”

She gave him a seductive smile. “Not now. I need to be convinced of your need for me. Make love to me, Jamal.”

Jamal gave her a tender smile. “It will be my pleasure.”

That night Lady Eloise invited a guest to Lanford Manor. Both Zara and Jamal were surprised to see a middle-aged man conversing with Lady Eloise in the elegant drawing room when they gathered downstairs for dinner. His distinguished gray hair and neat mustache gave him a look of quiet assurance.

Lady Eloise looked up as Zara and Jamal entered the room. “Ah, Jamal, you’re here. Come and meet Lord Robert Cummins, the Earl of Durbin. Robert, this is my son, Jamal, Lord Lanford.”

Jamal offered his hand, which was warmly clasped by the earl. “Durbin, pleased to meet you,” Jamal said. “Do you live in the area? I don’t recall meeting you before.”

“I bought the Hinkley estate when I moved from Ireland a few months ago. That makes me your neighbor. I met your lovely mother at a reception given in my honor by Lord and Lady Freemont.” He gave Eloise a tender smile, and Jamal wondered what was going on.

“And this must be your beautiful wife,” Durbin
continued. He bowed gallantly over Zara’s hand.

“This is Lady Zara,” Eloise said somewhat coolly. “Jamal married her in Morocco.”

“Mother,” Jamal said, clenching his teeth in frustration, “I wish a word with you in private. Would you excuse us, Durbin?”

“Of course. I’ll entertain your lady while you speak with your mother.”

“The library, Mother,” Jamal said, ushering his mother from the room.

Eloise searched Jamal’s face as he shut the library door and turned to face her. “What’s so important that it can’t wait?”

“First, I want you to stop treating Zara like a pariah. She’s my wife and will remain my wife. Second, stop creating situations that force me to endure Lady Caroline’s company. Her visits must stop. It’s upsetting Zara, and I won’t have her disturbed at a time like this. You’re making me very sorry I returned to England.”

“You don’t know how difficult this is for me, son. Every time I look at Zara, I see the woman whose father killed my beloved Ahab.”

“Every time I look at Zara, I see the woman I love and the mother of my children. Zara is carrying my child, Mother. Your first grandchild.”

Lady Eloise’s delight was genuine. “A baby? Zara is pregnant?”

“That’s what I said. I’m taking Zara away, where she won’t be subjected to your coldness. I never imagined you could be like this. You’ve always been such a loving, understanding woman.”

“A baby,” Eloise repeated, her face softening. “It will be wonderful having a baby in the house.”

“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said, Mother? I’m taking Zara away.”

Suddenly, having a grandchild seemed more important than carrying a grudge. “Oh, Jamal, I don’t know what got into me. I’ve been a foolish old woman. I shouldn’t have blamed Zara for her father’s sins. Will you forgive me? Will Zara forgive me? I want to know my grandchild.”

“Of course I forgive you, but I can’t speak for Zara. She was willing to leave me to keep peace in the family. Zara is proud and brave and as fierce as any warrior I’ve ever known, and I love her. I want you to love her, too.”

“I’ll try, son, truly I will.”

“I’ll send her in to you so you can tell her yourself.”

“Jamal, about Lord Robert—”

“Later, Mother.” He left before she finished the sentence.

A few minutes later Zara entered the library, wary and perturbed about her private talk with Lady Eloise. She’d been conversing pleasantly with Lord Robert when Jamal interrupted, saying only that his mother wished to speak with her in private.

“You wished to see me, Lady Eloise?”

“What I wish, my dear, is to apologize,” Eloise said. “I regret our dismal beginning and wish to make amends. I had no business making rash judgments where you were concerned. May we begin anew? I know about the babe you’re carrying and want to be a part of my grandchild’s life. Will you allow it, Zara?”

Tears sprang to Zara’s eyes. This was the kind
of welcome she had dreamed of, but had been denied. “I bear you no ill will, my lady. I never knew my mother and had no one but my father. I love him dearly and always will. Knowing that, can we still be friends?”

“Jamal loves you. That’s enough for me. Your children will fill this old house with happiness and love. How can I not offer you my friendship … and one day, perhaps my love.”

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