Page 2 of Kismet

It appalled her that she liked hearing him call her pretty. Allegra knew it was ludicrous to take pleasure in such a small compliment. Even worse, her body was responding to him in a way it had never done with any other man. The elemental force of personality that flowed from him set off alarms in her head. Swallowing hard, she put distance between them. The moment she did, he arched an eyebrow at her and his eyes became unreadable mahogany.

“Thank you for your concern, monsieur. I shall ask for your suggested remedy when I arrive at my friend’s home.”

“Then we say, adieu, mademoiselle.”

He gave her an abrupt nod then turned and moved back to the stallion he’d saved her from. Flabbergasted by his sudden departure, she felt her mouth fall open as he walked away without another word. Unaccustomed to men simply walking away from her as if she were of no consequence, she watched in disbelief as he took the horse’s halter rope from an older Bedouin. It was an unpleasant experience to have a man ignore her. Annoyed, she grimaced at her emotional reaction.

The older man said something to the dark stranger then nodded in her direction. Horrified that her rescuer might turn around to find her watching him, she spun around on her heel and hurried back to where she’d left Millie. She reached the train car and frowned when her maid and the porter were nowhere in sight. She turned around to face the direction she’d just come from and across the distance saw her mysterious Bedouin watching her.

The unexpected frisson sliding over her skin appalled her. This wasn’t a man to be toyed with. That she found him intriguing and mesmerizing made him even more dangerous. He was the type of man who would demand total submission, and not since that first night in Madame Eugenie’s had Allegra ever allowed a man to control her. That night had taught her a hard lesson and she’d turned it to her advantage. She knew when to leave well enough alone, and this Bedouin sheikh was a man to avoid at all costs.

She drew in a deep breath and directed a polite nod in his direction before dragging her gaze away from him. Despite her desire to run, she forced herself to walk at a sedate pace until she reached the interior of the railway station. The moment she escaped his watchful eyes, she hurried through the building toward the doors leading out to the street.

The chaos from the railway platform had moved out into the city street. A man with a monkey on his shoulder walked by her, while a vendor across from the railroad station hawked his wares at the people passing his small shop.

“Miss Allegra,” Millie called out with a note of relief in her voice. “Thank heavens. I thought we’d lost you.”

With a smile, she turned to face her maid. “I’m sorry, Millie. I was distracted by the most incredible horse I’ve ever seen.”

“Another horse.” The older woman snorted with disgust as she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the side of Allegra’s skirt. “Look at your gown. Did you ride the beast as well?”

Although she’d been intrigued by far more than the horse, Millie’s question made her realize she’d missed the opportunity to make an offer for the white stallion. Irritated that she’d allowed the mysterious stranger to be such a distraction, she pursed her mouth with rueful frustration. If the man hadn’t addled her brain so much she might have been the new owner of that splendid animal. Shaking her head, she touched her companion’s shoulder.

“No, I didn’t ride him, although I should have made an offer. I’m certain he’d make a wonderful sire.”

“I admit you have an eye for horses, Miss Allegra, but bless me if I understand why you’d need another one.”

“I suppose you’re right, Millie.” She smiled as she followed the maid toward a waiting landau. “I don’t really need another horse, but he was magnificent.”

Once they settled themselves inside, their coachman guided the vehicle into the busy street and set off for Isabelle’s. Seated beside the driver, Ali occasionally pointed out an item of interest to them. Well into the middle of the day, the sun lashed its heat downward. The parasol she carried deflected a large amount of sunlight, but the temperature was still stifling. She would be grateful to reach Isabelle’s, where she could quench her parched throat with a cool drink.

Seated across from her, Millie eyed the scenery warily. The maid had never been comfortable journeying outside of England, but Allegra had given up suggesting the woman remain at home when she traveled. Her friend refused to be left behind. She returned her attention to the exotic setting they were driving through. It was beautiful and mysterious with its Moorish arched windows, small alleyways, and the minarets rising up toward the crisp blue sky. The seductive sounds, the pungent scent of spices, and the vivid colors created the impression of a rich opulence that stirred an emotion deep inside her that she was unable to define.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Allegra didn’t expect Millie to actually answer her. The customary response was generally a grunt, but the maid surprised her.

“A bit too heathenish to my liking, but it is interesting.”

Laughing, Allegra shook her head. “I’ll make a traveler of you yet, Millie.”

“I highly doubt that.” The older woman sniffed her dissension at the idea.

With a fleeting smile, Allegra turned her head to study the lovely intricacies of the large building they were passing. The architecture was beautiful and mysterious. Almost as darkly inscrutable as her Bedouin sheikh. She released a small sigh of disgust. What was it about the man that intrigued her so much?

He’d been far too arrogant for her liking and dismissive as well. Was that what bothered her? She had to admit that she didn’t like the fact she’d not made the slightest impression on him. Even happily married men didn’t walk away from her like the stranger had. Perhaps her age was beginning to show. She frowned. Ridiculous. She was barely past thirty.

No, she was nettled because she’d been unable to capture his attention completely. Her pride smarted from his blatant dismissal of her. It had not happened before. That was the only reason she couldn’t forget him. She suppressed a sigh at the thought. Was it? She wasn’t so sure.

Not even the Prince of Wales had intrigued her quite this much. But then Bertie had been a known quantity, just like her other lovers. The dark-robed sheikh represented the unknown to her. Many of her lovers had often been more like spoilt schoolboys with power. Always amorous, yet prone to the occasional tantrum.

She allowed herself a small smile as she recalled one of the Prince of Wales’s ill-tempered moments. It had been easy to feel affection for him, just as it had been easy to feel affection for all the other men she’d allowed into her bed. Affection, but never love.

There were many men who’d thought themselves in love with her, but she knew better. Although she was attractive enough with her green eyes and dark red hair, it wasn’t her beauty that drew men to her. The image of her as a courtesan unparalleled was what intoxicated them. It was the illusion that had evolved out of Arthur’s death that drew men to her.

She understood how the persona had developed, but the creation of it had been far from pleasant. The one positive in the entire nightmare of Arthur’s death had been her ability to choose the men she welcomed into her bed. It had cultivated an independence she would never have known at Madame Eugenie’s. It was a liberty she protected by avoiding the emotional attachment of love. The emotion was even more of an illusion than the misguided notion that she was an incomparable lover.

Quite possibly Arthur might have protested her ideas about love, but he wasn’t here to chide her or challenge her on the issue. All the same, she was certain he would be proud of her. It would have pleased him to see her so self-sufficient. Arthur’s patronage and tutelage had brought her a long way from that frightened girl he’d first met at Madame Eugenie’s. Even Millie had changed since her days cooking in the brothel’s kitchen. The woman was more than her maid and occasional cook. Millie was a friend and companion who watched over her.

Devoted and incredibly stubborn, Millie was one of the few people she could count on to stand by her in even the worst of circumstances. Her friend Isabelle was made of the same cloth as her maid, but then the three of them had all emerged from the bowels of the East End at almost the same time.