The Sheik - Page 116/177

Love, the capacity for which she had so long denied, had become a force

that, predominating everything, held her irresistibly. The accumulated

affection that, for want of an outlet, had been stemmed within her, had

burst all restraint, and the love that she gave to the man to whom she

had surrendered her proud heart was immeasurable--a love of infinite

tenderness and complete unselfishness, a love that had made her

strangely humble. She had yielded up everything to him, he dominated

her wholly. Her imperious will had bent before his greater

determination, and his mastery over her had provoked a love that craved

for recompense. She only lived for him and for the hope of his love,

engulfed in the passion that enthralled her. Her surrender had been no

common one. The feminine weakness that she had despised and fought

against had triumphed over her unexpectedly without humiliating

thoroughness. Sex had supervened to overthrow all her preconceived

notions. The womanly instincts that under Aubrey's training had been

suppressed and undeveloped had, in contact with the Sheik's vivid

masculinity and compelling personality, risen to the surface with

startling completeness.

To-day she was almost desperate. His callousness of the morning had

wounded her deeply, and a wave of rebellion welled up in her. She would

not be thrown aside without making any effort to fight for his love.

She would use every art that her beauty and her woman's instinct gave

her. Her cheek burned as she thought of the role she was setting

herself. She would be no better than "those others" whose remembrance

still made her shiver. But she crushed down the repugnant feeling

resolutely, flinging up her head with the old haughty gesture and

drawing herself straighter in the saddle with compressed lips. She had

endured so much already that she could even bear this further outrage

to her feelings. At no matter what cost she must make him care for her.

Though she loathed the means she would make him love her. But even as

she planned the doubt of her ability to succeed crept into her mind,

torturing her with insidious recollections.

Ahmed Ben Hassan was no ordinary man to succumb to the fascinations of

a woman. She had experienced his obstinacy, and knew the inflexibility

of his nature. His determination was a rock against which she had been

broken too many times not to know its strength. For a moment she

despaired, then courage came to her again, thrusting away the doubts

that crowded in upon her and leaving the hope that still lingered in

her heart. A faint tremulous smile curved her lips, and she looked up,

forcing her thoughts back to the present with an effort.