The Sheik

"I am sorry about Silver Star," she faltered, and even to herself her

voice sounded hoarse and strange. He did not answer, but only shrugged

his shoulders as he dropped the last cartridge into its place.

The gesture and his uncompromising attitude exasperated her. "You had

better have shot me," she said bitterly.

"Perhaps. You would have been easier replaced. There are plenty of

women, but Silver Star was almost unique," he retorted quickly, and she

winced at the cold brutality of his tone.

A little sad smile curved her lips. "Yet you shot your horse to get me

back," she said in a barely audible voice.

He flung round with an oath. "You little fool! Do you know so little of

me yet? Do you think that I will let anything stand between me and what

I want? Do you think that by running away from me you will make me want

you less? By Allah! I would have found you if you had got as far as

France. What I have I keep, until I tire of it--and I have not tired of

you yet." He jerked her to him, staring down at her passionately, and

for a moment his face was the face of a devil. "How shall I punish

you?" He felt the shudder he expected go through her and laughed as she

shrank in his arms and hid her face. He forced her head up with

merciless fingers. "What do you hate most?--my kisses?" and with

another mocking laugh he crushed his mouth to hers in a long

suffocating embrace.

Then he let her go suddenly, and, blind and dizzy, she reeled from him

and staggered. He caught her as she swayed and swept her into his arms.

Her head fell back against his shoulder and his face changed at the

sight of her quivering features. He carried her into the adjoining room

and laid her on the couch, his hands lingering as he drew them from

her. For a moment he stood looking down with smouldering eyes on the

slight, boyish figure lying on the bed, the ferocity dying out of his

face. "Take care you do not wake the devil in me again, ma

belle," he said sombrely.

Alone Diana turned her face into the pillows with a moan of anguish.

Back in the desert a few hours ago, under the shining stars, when the

truth had first come to her, she had thought that she was happy, but

she knew now that without his love she would never be happy. She had

tasted the bitterness of his loveless kisses and she knew that a worse

bitterness was to come, and she writhed at the thought of what her life

with him would be.