Johanna Lindsey - Captive Bride

"Nonsense," Emma smiled. "What better place for Mr. Philip's baby to be born than in his own home?"

"But Philip didn't want me. He doesn't want this child."

"I can't believe that, Miss Christina—you're too lovely," said Mavis. "Mr. Caxton cannot be that much of a fool. Did you tell him about the child?"

"I—I knew he didn't want this child, so I saw no point in telling him of it."

"If you didn't tell him, then you can't be sure of his feelings," Emma said reasonably. "No, you will stay here as planned. You cannot deny me the chance to see Philip Caxton's child."

"But—"

"Now I don't want to hear another word about your leaving. But I would love to hear how you and Mr. Caxton met!"

"I want to hear the whole story!" said Mavis.

Christina looked up at the portrait of Lady Anjanet How like her Philip wasl

* * *

A few weeks later, Christina's pains started. She felt the first slight cramps while taking her morning stroll in the vast floral gardens behind the house.

Emma immediately put Christina to bed, set water to boil, and summoned Mavis, who was experienced at delivering babies. She remained at Christina's side and assured her that everything was going well. The hours passed by slowly, and Christina fought back screams as her pains came faster.

She labored fourteen long hours. With a final great effort, she pushed her baby into the world, and was rewarded by his lusty wail.

Christina was exhausted, but she smiled contentedly. "I want to hold my son," she whispered weakly to Emma, who was standing beside her bed looking just as worn-out as Christina.

"As soon as Mavis finishes washing him, child, you can have him. But how did you know he was a boy?"

"What else would Philip Caxton sire?"

IT was midday in late September, and the slow-moving ceiling fans did nothing to alleviate the stuffiness in the small hotel dining room. Philip had arrived in Cairo only yesterday. This morning he'd managed to find a decently fitting suit, and had ordered everything else he would need for his journey home. Now he sat with a glass of cognac waiting for his meal, his mind a blank. He didn't want to think about his last eight months of living hell.

"Philip Caxton, isn't it? Imagine running into you. What brings you to Cairo?"

Philip looked up from his drink to see John Wakefield standing before him. "I had some business to take care of," Philip replied. He Iwondered if John knew that his business was with John's sister. "But it's finished now, and I will be returning to England at the end of the month. Won't you join me for lunch?" Philip asked out of courtesy.

"Well, I'm expecting someone for lunch, but I'll have a drink with you while I wait."

"Is it your sister who's meeting you here?" Philip asked, hoping the answer would be no. He had no wish to see her again—ever.

"Christina went back to England about five months ago. She couldn't stand Egypt. Can't say I care for it, either. The only good thing about my stay here was meeting my wife. We were married only last month, and we'll be sailing for home soon, probably on the same ship as you."

"I guess congratulations are in order. At least your trip here wasn't a total loss—as mine was," Philip said bitterly.. He would be glad to be gone from Egypt and the recent memories it held for him.

John Wakefield stood up and waved toward the entrance, and Philip saw two lovely women coming toward the table. John kissed the older of the two on the cheek and introduced Philip to his wife and her sister.

"Mr. Caxton is an acquaintance from London. It seems that we will be traveling back to England together," John informed the ladies.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to meet you, Mr. Caxton!" Estelle Hendricks gushed. "I just know the journey is going to be much more pleasant with you along. You're not married, are you, Mr. Caxton?"

"Estelle!" Kareen exclaimed. "That is none of your business!" Then she turned to Philip, a slight smile on her rosy lips. "I must apologize for my sister, Mr. Caxton. She's too outspoken for her own good."

Philip was amused by the young girl's boldness. "That's quite all right, Mrs. Wakefield. It's refreshing to hear someone speak her mind."

* * *

That night as Philip lay on the small hotel bed, he cursed his luck for running into John Wakefield. The meeting had brought Christina back to his mind vividly. He had hoped to forget her, but it was impossible. Every night, her image haunted him: her beautiful slender body lying beneath his; her hair when the light would touch it; her soft blue-green eyes and alluring smile. Just the thought of her had the power to arouse him. He still wanted her, even though he would never have her again.

At first, Philip had been determined to stay in Egypt. He couldn't go back to England and chance running into Christina. But everywhere he looked, he saw her. In the tent, at the pond, in the desert—everywhere. He just couldn't get her out of his mind as long as he stayed in Egypt

Philip had been ready to return to England four months ago. But then Amine's brother, Amair, had come to visit the camp, and had told Philip the truth about Christina's abduction. Rashid had planned the whole thing. He had wanted Philip dead so that he could become sheik himself.

Rashid had never returned to camp after taking Christina back to her brother. If he had, Philip would have killed him. Philip had searched four months for Rashid, but he'd disappeared.

* * *

The day before his ship sailed, with nothing better to do, Philip went down to the marketplace to stroll by the many open stands and small shops. The streets were crowded with bartering Arabs and Egyptians. Everywhere Philip looked were camels packed heavily with trade goods.

The fragrant odor of perfumes filled the air and reminded Philip of the first time he had walked through this marketplace, some fourteen years ago. He had been only twenty years old, and Egypt had been a strange and terrifying land. He had come to find his father, but had no idea how to go about it. He had known only his father's name and that he was the sheik of a desert tribe.

Philip had spent weeks walking through the dusty streets and asking people if they knew of Yasir Alhamar. Finally he had realized that he was getting nowhere. His father was a desert man, so Philip had hired a guide to take him into the desert. With two camels laden with supplies, they had set off into the scorching sand.

In the grueling months that followed, Philip had become acquainted with the hardships of living in the desert. The burning sun had beaten down on him during the day; the freezing cold had forced him to curl up next to his camel for warmth at night.

They had ridden for days without seeing another human being. When they had come upon Bedouins, either they hadn't known Yasir or they had had no idea where he could be found.

And then, when Philip was ready to give up the search, he had ridden into his father's camp. He would never forget that day and the look on his father's face when he had said who he was.

Philip had been happy in Egypt, but couldn't stand it anymore. He could not forget Christina as long as he stayed. Since there seemed to be no hope of finding Rashid, he had finally decided to leave.

He would go back to England, inform Paul of their father's death, then sell his estate. He might go to America. He wanted to go somewhere far away from Christina Wakefield.

CHRISTINA stayed at Victory for a month after her lying-in, and became well acquainted with little Philip Junior. She'd named him properly, for he was the image of his father—the same green eyes, the same black hair, the same strong features. He was a beautiful baby— healthy, and with an appetite that wouldn't stop. He was her joy, and her life.

But she had stayed there long enough, and it was time that she went home. Johnsy would be eager to see Philip Junior, and Christina hoped she could now cope with Tommy.

She turned to look at her baby, who was lying in the middle of Philip's big bed and watching her quietly. She smiled at him, put the rest of her things into the last chest, and closed it securely. She had heard the coach pull up to the front of the house a few minutes ago, so she went to the door and asked one of the maids to have the driver come for her baggage.

After the maid left, Christina put on her bonnet and cape and looked longingly about the room. It would be the last time she would ever see anything that belonged to Philip. She suddenly felt sad at leaving his home. She walked around the room, softly running her hand over the furniture, knowing that he had once touched it

"And who might you be, madam?"

Christina turned quickly at the sound of the strange voice, and gasped when she saw Paul Caxton standing in the doorway.

"What on earth are you doing here?" he asked. But then he saw the green-eyed baby in the middle of the bed. "I'll be damned! He said he'd do it. He said he'd have you, but I thought you'd never marry him!" Paul laughed aloud, turning to look at Christina again, who was still too surprised to find words. "Where is that brother of mine? Congratulations are in order."

"Your brother is not here, Mr. Caxton, and I did not marry him. Now if you will excuse me, I was just leaving," she replied coldly, and crossed to the bed to pick up her baby.