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that. “And what am I? I am no lord’s son. I’m the son of a diplomat, who hopes to be a diplomat himself. Perhaps we’ve got a viscount grandfather somewhere in the family tree, but it’s a tenuous claim to Society at best, and it’s not a connection I trade on.” Then he sobered, another thought striking him. “Perhaps you do not wish to marry me?” He had not anticipated her refusal. He was not a man who dwelt on failure. He had not thought of losing the knife contest just as he had not thought of losing her. They were both impossibilities to him.
    She smiled softly. “I do not wish to hinder you, Alex. I recognized at once that first night I danced before you that you were a man of honor…”
    Alex was in no mood to talk about his honor. “I want you, Susannah. Your intelligence and your courage. You are an incredible woman, and I want you to be mine.” He reached for her, a hand behind her neck, pulling her to him for a kiss that spanned the chasm of her doubt. “Magic like this doesn’t happen every day, Susannah.” He whispered into her mouth. She stared at him, searching his eyes and slowly a smile of pure happiness spread across her face. He actually looked nervous. It had seemed impossible, but it was true. She was loved.
    â€œYes, Alex,” She whispered back, her body molding to his as he rolled her beneath him. “Yes, I will marry you and be yours.”
    Glowing with relief, Alex moved to claim her, rising above her in man’s age-old possession of a woman, a possession as ancient as the desert itself. He thrust deeply, finding his homecoming in her warmth. “Mine.”
    Ah, but he loved the desert.

Epilogue
    A few months later, Algiers
    â€œI am told I must call you ‘sir’ now.” Crispin sighed dramatically. He leaned on the rail of the little balcony of Alex’s apartments looking out over the bay. A fresh wind blew off the water as the two friends said their farewells.
    Alex nodded, smiling. “It was something of a surprise. London moved pretty quickly.” He shot a sidelong glance at his friend. “I wonder if your brother had something to do that.”
    Crispin made a noncommittal gesture with his shoulders. “Maybe. I happened to mention something to Peyton about your latest exploits in my last letter home.”
    â€œWell, thank you. Susannah and I will be moving to the consulate in Cairo in a few weeks. It will be good to be home and among my family.” Alex confessed.
    Crispin elbowed him good-naturedly. “I told you you’d come out of this like a hero.”
    â€œWhat about you? How will you come out of this?” Alex asked.
    â€œI’m headed home, by way of Greece. But headed home, nonetheless. It’s time.”
    Alex nodded. Crispin had received news of an inheritance a while back and had dawdled over claiming it. There were issues to settle with his brother, Peyton, and issues to settle within himself that had delayed his going home. Cris didn’t talk much about it, but Alex knew he struggled with his own sense of identity. A man couldn’t wander alone forever.
    He knew that better than anyone now that he had Susannah. The sun sank low over the harbor and Crispin turned from the railing. “I’ll go now and leave you to your lovely wife.”
    They embraced as brothers and Alex saw him downstairs, laughing when Crispin mounted up on the ‘stolen’ black stallion. “Did you ever name the beast?”
    â€œI named him Sheikh. Seemed fitting.” Crispin winked and set off down the street.
    It would be the last time in years that Alex would see Crispin. But his future lay upstairs in Susannah’s arms and he took the steps two at a time.
    Â 
    Susannah waited for him, listening for his footsteps on the stairs. He would be lonely when he returned. But she would see to it that he would not be lonely for long. In his absence,