Free The Desert Castle by Isobel Chace Page A

twisted his mouth into a wry sm ile. ‘ I ’ ll meet you in ten minutes at the car. You needn ’ t worry about being alone with me, ’ he added caustically. ‘ I don ’ t seduce frightened little girls. I prefer a more sophisticated approach ! ’
    ‘ Oh, Gregory, please don ’ t ! ’
    H e crossed his arms in front of him and stared at her. ‘ Don ’ t what? What do you want ? ’
    S he blinked, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. ‘ I ’ d like to be friends. I didn ’ t mean— ’
    ‘ Friends ? ’ He sounded as though the word had really stung him on the raw. ‘ I wonder if you know what you ’ re asking! ’ He walked over to her and touched her wet cheeks with gentle fingers. ‘ I ’ ll try, Marion, ’ he said at last. ‘ Only don ’ t cry any more and I ’ ll do anything you ask ! ’
    S he gulped. ‘ Thank you, ’ she said with relief. ‘ I didn ’ t mean to insult you, Gregory. It was a compliment—in a way—because most women would like you to make love to them, only— ’
    ‘ Only you don ’ t? ’ he finished for her.
    B ut she did ! She liked it far too much ! ‘ I didn ’ t dislike it, ’ she compromised, and wondered why he laughed, his face clearing as if by magic. ‘ But it didn ’ t mean anything, did it ? ’
    ‘ Oh, I wouldn ’ t say that, ’ he said, and turned on his heel and left her alone with the little houri she was re storing.
    M arion made a face at her, admitting to herself that they were two of a kind. ‘ You can ’ t wait for ever , ’ she addressed the painted wal l. ‘ He might not com e. He might never get to heaven and what will you do then? ’
    B ut the houri made no answer. Only Marion knew quite well what she would have said if she could. She would have pointed out that Gregory was in the same world as Marion and yet she hadn ’ t fared very well either.
    ‘ I only want to be his friend ! ’ Marion declared out loud, and flung a cl oth at the simpering dis belief on the face of the houri. Well, she didn ’ t believe it either! But if she didn ’ t want that what else was it that she did want?
     
    M arion tied her scarf round her head, pulling it so tight that she almost strangled herself. She reached up her hands and began to pull herself up into the front of the Land Cruiser when two strong hands lifted her easily and dumped her on to the canvas-covered seat .
    ‘ I ’ ve left a message for the others, ’ Gregory said, ‘ We won ’ t be ba ck till late. ’
    Marion said nothing. She clutched the edge of her seat as they set off across the rough ground, her spirits rising by the minute. It was grand to have the sun on her face and the wind pulling at the edges of her scarf.
    ‘ How long will it take us to get there ? ’ she asked as Gregory eased the Land Cruiser through the rusty iron gates.
    ‘ To Madaba? More than an hour. To the Dead Sea, rather longer. I thought we ’ d go by way of Mount Nebo so that you can see where Moses looked down into the Promised Land before he died. ’
    ‘ The very spot ? ’ she insisted, sounding doubtful.
    ‘ Why not? It wasn ’ t very long ago in the historical perspective of a land like this. ’
    ‘ Three thousand years, ’ she pointed out.
    ‘ Practically modern times, ’ he teased her. ‘ I ’ m sure if you asked around you ’ d find someone who remembered him passing through their village. ’
    ‘ They ’ ll remember you, ’ she asserted. ‘ What made you want to live in a castle ? ’
    ‘ It was there I saw the difference the Spaniards were able to make when they restored the frescoes of the most famous of the desert castles, Qasr Amra, and I wanted to do the same for my castle. It ’ s too far out for it to be on the tourist circuit, and there isn ’ t enough money to go round anyway. It seemed almost too good to be true when I heard about you ! ’
    ‘ You used to write to my father, ’ she said shyly. ‘ My mother told me so. ’
    ‘ That didn ’ t mean you had