Sweet Revenge

her, simply, honestly, in the way of children. Those children were gone, but there was something of them left in the way their eyes met, held. How could she have known, after doing without for so long, that family would mean something?
    “I’m glad to see you again.” And she, too, meant it.
    “Our brother Rahman.”
    She waited, as was proper, for him to kiss her. It wasn’t restraint she felt from him when his lips brushed her cheeks, but shyness.
    “Welcome, sister. We praise Allah for bringing you back to us.”
    Rahman. He had the eyes of a poet and the name of their great-grandfather, the warrior. Adrianne wanted to speak with him, forge some link. But Abdu was looking at her.
    Philip continued to watch as she was presented to the rest of her family. Her younger brother he recognized as the boy who had been praying in the room close to his own. How would it feel, he wondered, to face a brother you’d never seen before? Strange, but until now he’d never considered the fact that he might have siblings. He thought of the gulf between Adrianne and the other children of her father. Perhaps it was best never to know.
    She was speaking Arabic smoothly, musically. That more than anything made the entire scene like a dream. Though he willed her to, she didn’t even glance in his direction, but moved, as directed, to Abdu’s side.
    “Tonight we rejoice.” In deference to Philip, Abdu spoke in clear, precise English. “I give this woman of my family to this man. Under the will of Allah, and for His honor, they shall be married.” Taking Adrianne’s hand, he placed it in Philip’s. “May she be a fruitful and modest wife.”
    Adrianne might have smiled at that, but she saw her grandmother, supported by younger women, wipe a tear from her eye.
    “The documents have been signed,” Abdu continued. “The price set. The ceremony will take place one week from today.
Inshallah”
    Philip felt her fingers jerk in his. Her head came up, and for two heartbeats the volcano was there, smoldering. Then she was lowering her eyes again and accepting wishes for happiness and children.
    They still had exchanged no words when she, along with the other women, filed out to where they could celebrate out of sight of the men.
    Adrianne’s dreams were disturbing enough to make her toss in bed. They weren’t clear. One bled formlessly into the next, leaving her with a feeling of unease and grief. She’d hoped to exhaust herself, then escape into sleep. After all the chattering about wedding dresses and wedding nights, she
had
been exhausted. But a sleep chased by dreams wasn’t escape.
    When a hand covered her mouth, she shot up in bed, one hand grabbing a wrist, the other groping for purchase.
    “Easy.” Philip said the word in a whisper directly intoher ear. “You start yelling and your relatives are going to cut vital little pieces off my body.”
    “Philip.” The first wave of relief was so
intense
, she threw her arms around him. He slid easily to the bed with her, then cut off even her murmur with his mouth. That was it, the taste he’d needed, craved, all evening. He hadn’t known need could build so high in a matter of hours, or that worry could press like an anvil’s weight on the back of the neck.
    “I’ve been going crazy,” he muttered against her throat. “Wondering when I could talk to you, touch you. I want you, Addy.” He nipped lightly at her ear. “Now.”
    On a murmured agreement she combed her fingers through his hair. The next instant she was shoving him aside and sitting up. “Goddammit, what are you doing in here? Do you know what will happen if they find you?”
    “I missed you too.”
    “This isn’t a joke. They still have public beheadings near the suqs.”
    “I don’t intend to lose my head over you.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Any more than I already have.”
    “You’re a fool.” And her pulse was thready.
    “A romantic.”
    “Same thing.” Tossing the sheet aside, she scrambled out of bed. “We have to get you out of here, and quickly.”
    “Not until we talk. Adrianne, it’s three in the morning. Everyone’s in bed loaded down with lamb and pomegranates.”
    She dropped back on the bed. Five minutes longer wouldn’t hurt, she told herself. And it was so good to have him there. “How did you get into the women’s quarters?”
    “The tunnel.” He’d been right. He could find a mole in the dark.
    “Good God, Philip, if you’d been