Penny Jordan Tribute Collection

Even with her sunglasses the sunlight was so strong that she was momentarily blinded as she headed for the four-wheel drive vehicle, and it was whilst she was still trying to accustom her eyes to the brilliance that she felt strong hands relieve her of her overnight bag, and then grasp her waist to help her into the front passenger seat of the vehicle.

She heard the slam of the passenger door, and then the closing rear door. As her driver climbed into the driving seat she turned her head to look at him, her eyes widening in shock as she realised just who her driver was!

‘Blaize!’ she exclaimed weakly. ‘What are you doing here?’

Petra tried to drag her gaze away from him as she gulped in air. Her chest had gone so tight it hurt, and she could feel the heat surging through her body as it reacted with telltale swiftness to his presence.

‘You booked a trip into the desert,’ he told her laconically as he set the vehicle in motion and drove off.

‘Yes… But…’

‘But what?’ he challenged her with an almost bored shrug. ‘I thought it made more sense for me to take you. The desert can be a very seductive place, so I’ve been told, and your intended isn’t going to like knowing that his bride-to-be has spent the night in the desert with another man. How did you get on with your grandfather? Is all forgiven?’ he asked her flippantly.

‘My mother is the one who is owed forgiveness,’ Petra told him quietly. ‘And she died believing that he had stopped loving her.’

There was a small silence before Blaize responded in a voice that sounded unfamiliarly serious.

‘Then I imagine that your grandfather will find it extremely difficult to forgive himself.’

‘His feelings are of no concern to me!’ Petra told Blaize angrily, and then stopped speaking as an inner voice told her that she was not being entirely truthful. ‘I thought that he was pretending to be ill,’ she heard herself telling Blaize.

‘And was he?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Petra acknowledged. ‘But that still does not mean he has the right to do what he is trying to do to me—use me for his own selfish ends.’

‘Perhaps he thinks this marriage will be beneficial for you,’ Blaize suggested. ‘His generation still believe that a woman needs a protector, a husband, and it would keep you here, close to your mother’s family, and provide for you financially.’

‘What?’ Petra stared at him in disbelief. ‘How can you say that after what I have told you? My feelings… my needs… are the last thing he is thinking about.’

‘You mean you believe they are! If you were to leave Zuran now, what would you do… where would you go?’

Petra glared at him. Why was he suddenly trying to play the devil’s advocate? For amusement?

‘I would go home… to the UK. I’m twenty-three, and although I have a good degree I would like to get my Master’s. There’s so much social inequality in the world that needs addressing—working in the field for the aid agency showed me that. I would like to do something to help other people.’

‘As a rich man’s wife you could do far more than as a mere fieldworker.’

‘I’ve already told you—I could never marry a man I did not love and respect. And from what Saud has told me it sounds as though I would be expected to treat Rashid as though he’s a minor god! Saud hero-worships him, and can’t wait for me to marry him so that he can officially claim Rashid as a relative. And of course he isn’t the only one! From the sound of it, my whole family are delirious with joy at the prospect of this marriage. All I seem to hear is “Rashid this” and “Rashid that”…’

‘Your cousin seems to be a positive wealth of information about the man.’

There was a certain dryness in Blaize’s voice that made Petra frown a little. ‘Saud is young and impressionable. Like I said, he obviously hero-worships Rashid, and thinks he can do no wrong.’

‘A young person sometimes benefits from a role model and mentor.’

‘Oh, I agree. But if a man who quite plainly divides women into two separate groups—good and bad, moral and immoral—whilst no doubt maintaining for himself the right to live exactly as he chooses, is not, in my opinion, a good role model—’

‘If you look to your left now, you might just catch a glimpse of the royal horses being exercised,’ Blaize interrupted her calmly.

Stopped in mid-tirade, Petra was tempted to continue with her diatribe—but then she saw the horses and their jockeys, and the sheer thrill of seeing so much power and beauty kept her silent as she inwardly paid homage to the spectacle they created.

‘You are still totally opposed to this marriage, then, I take it?’ Blaize asked her several minutes later.

‘Of course. How could I not be? I can’t marry a man I don’t love.’

‘You might find you could come to love him after the marriage.’

Petra gave him a scornful look.

‘Never,’ she denied vehemently. ‘And anyway even if I did, I somehow doubt that the Sheikh is likely to return my feelings. No, all our marriage would mean to him would be the successful conclusion to a diplomatic arrangement. I’ve got to make him change his mind and refuse to even countenance the idea.’

‘Have you thought that he may feel the same way about this situation as you do yourself? Have you thought of contacting him and perhaps discussing things with him?’

Petra gave him a withering look.

‘Unlike me, he has had the chance to refuse to become involved! After all, without his tacit acceptance the whole situation could simply not exist. Anyway, why are you suddenly so keen to promote him? Don’t you want to earn five thousand pounds any more?’ she demanded.

Or was it perhaps that he wanted her out of his life because he had sensed how she felt about him? A man like him would quite definitely not want the complications of having a woman fall in love with him!

Fall in love? But she hadn’t done that, had she? Petra closed her eyes in helpless self-anger. Hadn’t she got enough unwanted emotional pain to carry through life as excess baggage already, without deliberately inviting more?

‘Hang on tight. We’ll be leaving the highway soon and going into true desert terrain,’ Blaize warned her, without taking his eyes off the road.

Petra gasped and clung to her seat as they veered off the road and crested the first of a series of sand dunes, following what to her was a barely discernible track—although Blaize did not seem to be having any trouble in finding and following it.

Within minutes it seemed to Petra the road had vanished and the landscape had become a vast expanse of sand dunes, stretching from horizon to horizon. A little anxiously she swivelled round in her seat, craning her neck to look in the direction they had just come.

‘How… how do you know the way?’ she asked Blaize a little uncertainly.

‘I can tell the direction we are travelling by the position of the sun,’ he said with a small dismissive shrug, and then added derisively, ‘And besides, these all-terrain vehicles are equipped with navigation systems and a compass. Essential in this type of country. A bad sandstorm can not only reduce visibility to nought, it can also wipe out existing trails. See that over there?’ he commanded, pointing in the direction of where a bird was hovering motionless, a mere dot in the hot blue emptiness of the sky.

‘What is it?’ Petra asked him.

‘A hunting falcon,’ he told her, reaching into the compartment between them. As he did so his fingertips inadvertently brushed against her knee and immediately her body reacted, pouring a lava hot molten tide of sharp longing through her. Petra could feel her whole body tightening in wanton hunger for him. If she turned to him now, covered his hand with her own, his mouth with her own; if she reached out and touched him as she wanted him to touch her… But it was too late. He had already moved away and was producing a pair of binoculars, which he offered to her. Binoculars! When what she wanted him to offer her was… was himself!

‘Take a closer look,’ he instructed her. ‘It will probably be a trained bird. A number of Zuran’s richest inhabitants maintain their own falconries, where birds are reared and trained. It’s an ancient craft which is still practised here.’

As Petra watched the bird suddenly turned and wheeled and was quickly out of sight, as though responding to some unseen summons.

‘They often have displays of falconry at the desert village where we’ll be spending the night,’ Blaize informed her. ‘Most people find the birds too fearsome to approach, but in actual fact the camels are probably more dangerous.’

‘So my mother told me,’ Petra replied.

She was finding it a little disconcerting that Blaize, the beach bum, should so suddenly and unexpectedly prove to be so knowledgeable about the local culture and history. Not wanting to be outdone, she was quick to remind him that she was, after all, a part of that culture, even if this was the first time she was experiencing it firsthand.

There was quite definitely a stirring awesomeness about the desert, but Petra was finding it difficult to give her exclusive attention to her surroundings because of the effect that Blaize himself was having on her.

But that did not mean that she had fallen in love with him, she reassured herself fiercely. Just because her heart was beating with an unfamiliar speed, and she dared not look properly at him because when she did she wanted to keep on looking… and do much, much more than just merely look, she admitted breathlessly. But that did not mean… anything. In fact it meant nothing—nothing at all other than that she was physically aware of him.