Bonfire by Mark Arundel

Author:Mark Arundel [Arundel, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Laughing Gulls
Published: 2015-02-10T00:00:00+00:00

15 Necessity knows no law.

Magda Jbara wondered which of her emotions was the strongest. Was it relief or shock? The relief she felt came from the knowledge her captors, although Islamic extremists, did not pose an immediate threat to her life. The shock came from the fact that their leader was Suleiman Al Bousefi, a man who had abducted her because he wanted her for his wife.

Shiny sweat had formed on Magda’s forehead. The fine droplets decorated her skin like a band of small diamonds. Her hand lifted to the sheen and smeared away the sparkling moisture. It was the desert heat, she thought, although, inside the fortress, the thick sandstone walls and infrequent, narrow windows protected the interior from the afternoon sun and held the temperature down. Magda’s body heat was reacting without control. The stress caused by the man who stood before her inflamed her being. The licking flames of a crackling fire could not have done it better.

She studied his face while her mind fought to arrange the words she must speak. The neatly trimmed beard extenuated his fleshy jowls and the dark close-set eyes sat deep beneath a low brow giving the appearance of a permanent scowl. A plain, dark taqiyah [taqiyah: cap] hid his black hair, hair that Magda was certain he coloured to hide the grey and which he always wore neatly brushed. Fleshy lips, set like a bow seemed out of place and gave his mouth a feminine softness that he did not replicate in any other way. Magda had always thought his cold eyes to be cruel and unforgiving. They had not changed.

His hand still gripped her upper arm and the closeness of his body produced a natural pull. Magda sensed the magnetism and a shudder of realism passed across her shoulders, down her back and over her buttocks. His masculinity and powerful presence were not in doubt, but his beliefs and violent actions made any feeling other than dislike, even loathing, impossible for her. I can never marry this man.

‘The imam prepares and the senior Brotherhood soon will assemble. They come to witness my marriage,’ Suleiman said. ‘For me, it is a great day. For today, at last, I take a wife. Magda Jbara, I have chosen you to give me sons. Yes, it is a great day.’

Magda pushed away the fear that pressed on her lungs and threatened to turn her mute. Gently, slowly, she turned and pulled back her arm. Suleiman released his grip but held his eyes fixed on her face in the way a bird of prey looks at a captured meal.

Be brave… stay strong… ‘Suleiman, before, when you asked my father it was not he who did not desire the union. It was I. I was the one. Suleiman, I am sorry, but I cannot be your wife.’

‘I know it was you,’ Suleiman said. ‘You were frightened. You did not imagine I could be a good husband. You did not imagine we were a good match. Your head is full of liberal ideas and I represent the true Islam.

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