Free Egyptian Honeymoon by Elizabeth Ashton Page A

said softly: 'I understood the British practised monogamy.'
    The colour ran up under Noelle's fair skin as she caught the implication. She began to stammer— Marcia was an old friend… it was coincidence that she had come on this tour… her friends had let her down… so naturally being old pals… Her voice died away. Her excuses were weak and would not deceive him any more than she believed in them herself. Only loyalty to Steve had made her utter them.
    'That woman isn't fit to lick your sandals,' Omar muttered.
    Noelle felt she couldn't agree more, but she said nothing. Marcia was expert at seduction and experienced in the ways of love; she could not compete with her even if she tried to do so.
    The Bates had gone back on deck and Noelle absently sat down again beside Omar. He leaned towards her, saying thickly:
    'Oh, moon of my delight, why do you waste your sweetness on such arid soil?'
    His flowery phrase did not register, but she could not mistake the lust in his eyes. He went on: 'Come to me and you shall have anything and everything for which you yearn. I am rich…'
    'Oh, stop, please!' Noelle put her hands over her ears, shrinking from his unconcealed passion. He was avid to possess her cool northern beauty, but Steve had given her all she could wish for in the way of material gifts, including diamonds as well as the pearls, but only Hugh had given her what was to her infinitely more valuable—undemanding love. When she had decided to marry Steve she had destroyed Hugh's photographs out of a sense of loyalty to her new mate, but she had believed his image was fixed in her memory for all time, only to discover it had become blurred. When she tried to recall his well loved features, another face interposed, hard aquiline profile, cynical smile and cold grey eyes; that of the man who had bought her and had now lost interest in her.
    'I made a bargain with my husband and I must keep it,' she told Omar.
    'Very dutiful,' he sneered, 'but you will come to me in the end.' For this spoilt princeling could not conceive that he would not obtain what he wanted eventually.
    Noelle stood up. 'Thank you for the coffee,' she said formally. 'Please excuse me now, I must write some postcards.'
    'Certainly.' Omar rose and bowed. He stood watching her graceful figure disappear with a confident smile on his full lips.

CHAPTER FIVE

    Noelle had no postcards, she had had no opportunity to buy some, but she remembered seeing a rack of them outside the office amidships. She wanted to send cards to Simon and her parents. There were plenty to choose from and stamps were procurable. There were pictures of the Pyramids, the Sphinx, and various temples, also desert scenes which recalled Omar. The man was not without attraction and she thought he would look splendid in native dress, the one-time popular sheik of romance. As she went towards her cabin she wove a fantasy in which she rode with him over sandy wastes towards an opulent tent set in an oasis surrounded by palms. He would be a fiery lover and perhaps could teach her how to respond to Steve. Then she shook herself and laughed at her folly. In any case she judged Omar was too sophisticated for such a simple setting. Though he had spoken of the desert, Paris or Nice would be more his mark, and he might become a nuisance if he became too importunate, though she could not believe he was really serious. Boredom and their exotic surroundings had much to answer for, but all would be changed when they reached Luxor and embarked upon the numerous excursions provided for them. It might happen that Marcia really did have friends coming to meet her there, and she, Noelle, would have the privilege of her husband's escort again. That would scotch Mr Omar ben Ahmed's encroachments, she thought with amusement. Steve would soon get rid of him. Meanwhile his attentions were flattering, and boosted her ego. She wondered what his real title was… Emir… Sheik… Khan? 'Mr' seemed