The Sheik - Page 68/177

"I will obey you," she whispered heavily.

He took her chin in his fingers and jerked her head up sharply, staring

at her intently until she felt he was looking into her very soul. The

heavy scowl smoothed away but the fierceness lingered in his eyes.

"Good!" he said at length briefly. "You are wise," he added

significantly. He tilted her head further back, bending his own down

until his lips were nearly touching hers. She shivered involuntarily,

an anguished appeal leaping into her eyes. He smiled ironically. "Do

you hate them so much, my kisses?"

She swallowed convulsively.

"You are at least candid if you are not complimentary;" and with that

he released her and turned away.

She reached the curtain that divided the two rooms, her heart beating

wildly, giddy with the strain that she had gone through. She paused a

moment and looked back at him, amazed at her own temerity. He had

unbuttoned the flap of the tent and was standing in the entrance

looking out into the night. The scent of the peculiar tobacco he used

drifted to her with the draught from the open door. Her eyes grew

puzzled. Would she ever understand him? To-night he had given her a

choice instead of simply enforcing his will, he had made her choose to

save herself, he had proved his determination and his mastery over her.

And with his last words the unexpected gentleness had come into his

voice again and the cruel lines about his mouth had relaxed in a smile

of amusement. It was the swift transition from ferocity to gentleness

that she could never fathom. His complex nature was beyond her

understanding. She would not try to understand him; she could never

know the depths of his baffling personality. She only knew that for

some reason of his own he had spared her, and she feared him more than

ever.