Her lips curved in a smile that caused his heart to jerk. "Oh no, not you, Philip." She turned her head and her lips were soft as they touched his palm. "Not you."
"Pandora. . ."He stopped. When he spoke again his words were halting. "It's not that you're not worthy of love. In spite of what you've experienced with your father, you mustn't think that. You have more value than any woman I've ever known. You have intelligence and drive and heart. It could be that I'm like your father. Perhaps there's something missing."
"I won't believe that." She nestled her cheek in his palm. "I want to tell you something. When I was a little girl I was always reading myths. I guess it was a natural interest, considering my name. I never liked the one about Pandora, but something about the tale of Persephone fascinated me. She was the daughter of Demeter, the earth mother, and was stolen by Pluto, the god of the underworld. Her mother refused to allow one grain of wheat to grow on earth until she was returned. Man would have perished from starvation if Zeus hadn't persuaded Pluto to let her go. They made a deaclass="underline" Persephone was to spend three seasons on earth, during which time the earth would bloom and bear fruit. The other season she would return to Pluto in the underworld and the earth would be plunged into winter." Her gaze was pensive, far away. "I always felt a little sorry for Pluto. Perhaps all he wanted was his share of the blooming. I always hoped that Persephone brought it with her when she came to stay with him in the underworld. We all need our own time for blossoming." She kissed his palm again. "When I first met you, you reminded me a little of Pluto, imprisoned forever in a barren world. I've always wanted to bring you spring. I know how empty a winter world can be." Her voice was suddenly wistful. "I can do that, Philip. You're not like my father. Please, let me come in and try."
He was silent for a long moment. "Pandora, I can't." The words were torn from him. "Don't you see that?"
"No, I don't see that," she said with a weary sigh. She closed her eyes. "I think I'll sleep now."
Oh Lord, the stubbornness of her. He felt exasperation mixed with an aching tenderness wash over him. His hands pulled her head to rest on his shoulder. He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. "Yes, you go to sleep. Hostilities are definitely ended for tonight."
"I'm not hostile toward you." She didn't open her eyes. "I couldn't be. You're the only one who's fighting, Philip." She cuddled closer, and then stiffened. "I forgot. You don't like to sleep with anyone. It's all right to leave me. I'll be perfectly fine now."
"I'm sure you will." His arms tightened protectively around her. "I just don't happen to want to let you go at the moment." His lips touched her forehead. "Merely a whim, you understand. Pluto and I have been known to have them."
She laughed softly. "Yes, you have." She relaxed against him. "Well, whenever you want to leave, just go."
"I will," he promised. "Go to sleep."
She nestled deeper into his embrace. "Good night, Philip. I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night, Pandora."
He would get up soon and undress and put out the lights, but he knew he wouldn't leave her tonight. She was too vulnerable, in too much pain that, he, himself, had inflicted. Strange, after all these years of living for himself, that he would want to soothe another's pain. Strange . . . and threatening.
Yet he knew, even if there was danger in it, that there was no question he was going to do it. But only because he wanted to. It was a whim, just as he had told her. Tomorrow, when they were both on an even keel, would be soon enough to lift his guard again.
Six
Raoul was waiting for him in the stableyard. It was the fourth time in the last two weeks that the servant had felt compelled to meet him as soon as Philip rode in from the irrigation project. There was a worried expression on Raoul's face. Philip felt a sudden tension grip him and forced himself to relax. Pandora. It had to be Pandora, but it was probably nothing more than one of her usual brouhahas.
He swung down from the saddle and threw the reins to the waiting groom. "Well?" he asked tersely. "What now?"
"It's Miss Madchen," Raoul said hesitantly.
"I guessed that." Philip's tone was caustic as he set off briskly for the house. "It's always Pandora. What precisely has she done now?"
"She has a baby."
Philip stopped in midstride. "Would you mind repeating that? Very slowly."
"She came back from the bazaar this morning with an infant," Raoul said unhappily. "I'm afraid the house is in something of a turmoil."
"She bought a baby at the bazaar?"
"No, I think she found it." Raoul's wide forehead creased in a frown. "At least I believe that's what she said. Everything was very confusing at the time."
Philip shook his head. Only Pandora was able to bewilder his usually tranquil servant to this extent. "There's more, isn't there?"
Raoul nodded reluctantly. "She also brought some people with her. I gathered they have something to do with the baby."
"People?"
"A snake charmer, two street musicians, a water vendor, and a young woman who is doing a great deal of caterwauling." His expression was pained. "She has a most distressingly shrill voice."
"Oh, my Lord. Why the hell did you let them all in?"
Raoul shrugged helplessly. "Miss Madchen was quite determined."
"Miss Madchen is always determined. That doesn't mean you can't say no."
"I seem to have problems there. She's very difficult to refuse when she wants something."
Philip couldn't argue with that. In the two weeks Pandora had been back in Sedikhan she had managed to turn his normally serene household upside down. She had been in so many scrapes, both in the bazaar and in the village, that he had been tempted to confine her to his compound. Obviously he should have done just that before this occurrence. A baby, for heaven's sake!
"I'm sure it was all done for the best of reasons," Raoul offered tentatively. "Miss Madchen is a very warmhearted young lady."
"That's generous of you," Philip said dryly. "Particularly since there's every chance you'll have to baby-sit this infant as you did that tiger cub six years ago."
"Oh dear, I hope not. I know very little about babies." He brightened. "Miss Madchen appears to be very attached to him. Perhaps she may want to take care of the child herself."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Philip muttered. He took the front stairs two steps at a time. "Where is she?"
"In the front salon," Raoul said. "There wasn't room in her suite."
Philip heard the music as soon as he entered the foyer. If you could call it music. There was some kind of stringed instrument fighting for dominance over the boom of a drum. Philip grimaced. "And you said the woman was shrill?"
"You haven't heard her yet," Raoul said gloomily.
Philip heard her a moment later, a loud wailing that was enough to set his nerves on edge. "Damn, couldn't you shut her up?"
"Miss Madchen appeared to think it was a healthy outlet."