Suddenly, he realized—how obvious it was—he loved her. He, who had remained undisturbed by the wiles of flirtatious Southern girls and fragile Asian women and seductive European beauties, had been ensnared by that stubborn, willful, icy Yankee. His mouth twisted in pain. That beautiful, sharp, brave girl. Now he understood the inexplicable rage and desire and black depression she could plunge him into. He loved her, and she could hurt him and please him as no other woman had ever been able to. Determination boiled up in him. She could not be dead. He must get her back; he had to find her. He had to make it up to her.
Katherine’s hour of decision ran in fits and starts, now leaping forward, now crawling, as she paced her room, her mind skittering over her problem. She must get control, she told herself, must calm down and think clearly, but the next moment, she found herself wringing her hands helplessly, her mind a jumble of disconnected thoughts. What was Matthew doing? When would he find her? Would he even find her at all? And how was she to answer Pearl when her hour was up?
She pictured Hampton, cool, unruffled, even when facing death or capture, his eyes clear, his face faintly contemptuous, his hard body misleadingly graceful and relaxed. Somehow that calmed her. Nothing scared him; at least, he never showed it. She sat down on the edge of her bed, her brow furrowed in thought. Despicable as he was, he was also a fighter. What would he do in this predicament? She smiled—aside from the obvious impossibility of his being in this predicament, that is. Well, of course, he had a brute strength she lacked, but when he had fought that battle with the Susquetack, he had been fighting from a very weak position. Yet he had won because he had been daring and quick; because he had taken them by surprise; because he had outbluffed them. And that was exactly what she must do. Bluff them; make them relax their guard; buy time until Matthew could rescue her; and if the chance came, strike quickly, take them by surprise, and run like hell.
The door opened and Pearl unceremoniously entered. Her eyes flicked over Katherine shrewdly, and Katherine tried to keep her own gaze steady. Pearl sat down heavily on the bed.
“Well, dearie? Made up your mind yet?”
“Your proposal has its merits,” Katherine said, amazed at how calmly her words came out. “It is true that I would be making them pay for what they would only take by force otherwise. And I’d like the thought of making my own money, not having to depend on them.” Would the woman buy this about-face? She certainly looked suspicious. Perhaps she ought to put up more protest. “But the thing is, I’m not very good at it. I don’t like men and I don’t enjoy their pawing me.”
Pearl laughed harshly. “Nobody says you have to enjoy it, luv. In fact, you’re better if you don’t. Girls who get too concerned with their own pleasure forget to concentrate on giving him pleasure, and that is what you get paid for. Best whores I’ve known have been cold as ice or found their fun with other women.”
Katherine stared, and again Pearl cackled. “Shock you? But no matter; you won’t be innocent long. We’ll fix you up. Dress you right. Show you a few tricks of the trade. I think gold would be best for you. Set off those wild eyes of yours.”
Katherine’s heart leaped. She had believed her bluff. Now they would let her go down into the red room and from there it would be easy to escape, surely.
As if she could read her thoughts, Pearl snapped, “Don’t think for a minute that I trust you. I’ve got my eye on you, and if you try anything, you’ll regret it.” She opened the door and called, “Paul! Come in here. It’s time for a little demonstration. Bring Sally with you.” She closed the door and turned back to Katherine. “The first thing to remember is to do whatever a customer asks. If he wants you to stand on your head, then do it. That’s what he pays for. And always pretend you enjoy what he does to you. Pretend he brings out passion in you. Build him up; admire him; praise him.”
She broke off as the door opened and a large, muscular man entered followed by a woman with red-tinted hair and aging skin. Katherine felt sick—what were they going to do?
“This is Paul, dearie, he throws out the customers when they start breaking up the place—and helps keep my girls in line.” She grinned evilly and Katherine felt more than a touch of fear. He could break her in half. “Now, Paul, this girlie don’t know much about men; so we are going to show her. Take off your clothes.”
Paul grinned and began to disrobe, obviously proud of his physique, but Katherine blushed furiously. Yet to her shame, she found herself comparing him to Matthew and thinking with longing of Matthew’s lean, sinewy frame.
“Now, unless he tells you different, you don’t attack a man; tease him at first. Touch him very lightly, like a feather. Sally, show her what to do.”
Katherine watched, shocked, as Sally began to caress him. She reeled inwardly, watching the two obey without question any direction given them by Pearl.
Good Heavens, she thought, what was she doing; she ought to be thinking about escape. The door was unlocked and the guard naked and hardly paying attention. But Pearl stood between her and the door. If only she could maneuver to get closer to the door, get Pearl on the other side of her. She slowly moved away from the bed, as if to get a better view of the demonstration. She stood a little behind Pearl and to one side. Pearl didn’t seem to notice; she was intent on the couple on the bed.
So that’s it, thought Katherine: she enjoys watching. No wonder she wanted to hold a demonstration for me. Suddenly Katherine shoved Pearl hard and she went tumbling onto the bed on top of Paul and Sally. Katherine whirled and darted through the door and closed it behind her, shoving the heavy bolt to. Let them be the prisoners, she thought in satisfaction. Then she scampered down the narrow, winding staircase. The stairs ended abruptly after one flight, and she found herself in a sumptuous red-carpeted hallway. Above, Pearl and her employees were shouting and beating on the door, and all along the hallway, doors opened and curious girls peered out. Katherine ran blindly down the hall and at last came to the main staircase. None of the girls tried to stop her; she caught a glimpse of her voluptuous visitor of yesterday, laughing.
Down the stairs she darted and across the salon to the heavy double doors leading into the hallway. Futilely she tugged at the doors; they were locked tight. For a moment she froze. What on earth was she to do? Over her head the clamor continued, and now she heard the heavy, running footsteps. There must be another guard. Frantically she looked around her. A window! She ran to it and tried to push it up, but it wouldn’t budge. Then she saw a small hassock, lifted it—Lord, how heavy it was!—and hurled it through the window. The glass broke with a gratifying crash, but before she could throw herself through it, someone grabbed her from behind, squeezing the breath from her. Ineffectually she flailed about with her arms and legs. Painfully he twisted one arm behind her, and she cried out. But one frantic hand grabbed a heavy ashtray and she blindly struck back at him with it. Luckily she managed to hit his head and he released her, crumpling to the floor.
Katherine retained her wits enough to kneel beside him and relieve him of his knife and pistol. Then she ran for the window and crawled out, not even noticing that she cut her arm in doing so. She looked back to see Paul and Pearl at the top of the stairs, he ludicrously naked and wielding a gun. She fired at him to slow him down, but didn’t come close to hitting him. She whirled and ran out into the street—and stopped short at the sight of her phony rescuer casually strolling down the street. He at once took in the situation and begun to run toward her. She raised the gun and fired again, but it clicked uselessly. Damn! It wasn’t a revolver, just an old single-loader. She hurled it from her in disgust. Then she remembered the knife still gripped in her other hand, took it, aimed, and tossed it at him. He went down heavily, clutching his shoulder. Thank God for Peljo’s lessons. She dashed across the street and began to run in earnest, hoping she was running in the direction of Matthew’s ship.
Behind her she heard running footsteps, but forced herself not to look back; it would only slow her down. The sound gaine
d on her; it was right behind her—soft, slapping steps. Barefoot? Paul! Had she had the breath or time, she would have laughed. A woman clad only in her chemise and a stark naked man racing through the city streets. Suddenly he thudded into her and she went tumbling to the pavement, striking her head sharply. Everything went black.
When she came to, she was back in the room in the bordello. Softly she began to cry. They had caught her; she was back—worse than when she started. Her head ached terribly; her throat and mouth were dry, her stomach nauseous. And she couldn’t move. Was she paralyzed? She turned her head and the world swam sickeningly. She closed her eyes and waited for the world to right itself, then cautiously opened her eyes again. She was tied! Her arms were outspread and a rope tied around her wrists and around the bedposts. Gingerly she lifted her head and looked at her legs; they were tied the same way. And she was naked, with no cover.
The door opened and Pearl entered. She walked to the bed and leaned over Katherine, her face filled with anger. Suddenly her hand lashed out and slapped Katherine twice. Katherine’s head buzzed and she almost passed out again. Those pudgy hands, covered as they were with rings, packed a wallop.
“That was stupid, girlie,” Pearl spat out. “I gave you a chance to cooperate. Now I’ll have to be less pleasant. You have wounded Parker so badly, I’m afraid he is not up to dealing with you. But we have a customer who enjoys a little taming; I have sent a special invitation to His Lordship. Just think—you’ll be entertaining a baron tonight!” She grinned wickedly. “But for right now, we have Paul to help prepare you for the honor this evening. Poor boy, he’s somewhat out of sorts. You see, his feet—and his pride—are somewhat sore. Paul!”
His bulking shape loomed above her; his look was far from pleasant. He unbuttoned his trousers and began to stroke himself until his manhood stiffened. She tried to restrain her fear as he lowered his body onto hers and roughly entered her. She refused to cry out, biting her lower lip until it bled, digging her fingernails into her palms. Finally he stopped and removed the crushing weight of his body from her. Gratefully, she relaxed her tense body, but then she realized that he was not leaving. He unfastened the ropes from the bedposts and roughly turned her over on her stomach. Then he began to retie the ropes. What in the world was he doing to her? She began to struggle, suddenly struck with terror. Her arms and legs were stiff from being tied and he was far stronger than she, but Katherine managed to land a few blows before he got her retied.
For a moment he did nothing, just looked down at her, then said, “You put me to a little trouble, girl. And I intend for you to remember me.”
The bed creaked under his weight as he straddled her. She choked back her cries as he entered her, held in her tears of pain and humiliation; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. At last his body shuddered and he withdrew. He patted her bottom and strolled out of the room. Only then did Katherine burst into tears, burying her face in the bed to stifle her sobs.
“Oh, Matthew,” she moaned. When would he come for her? He had to come.
Hours crept by. Her arms and legs ached from their spread-eagled position. She was hungry and thirsty. Her face was sticky and itching from crying. Stubbornly she refused to call out, to ask for anything to eat or drink. That was what they wanted; they wanted to break her, to bring her so low that she would submit to anything. Well, she wouldn’t; she would show them they could not break her. She would hold out until Matthew arrived.
At last someone came and untied her and turned her over. She was too stiff and cramped to move, let alone put up a struggle as they retied her. Tears of rage sprang into her eyes and she began to curse them, screaming every insult she had ever heard Matthew or his men use. Pearl just chuckled gleefully.
“Go ahead, dear; His Lordship will like that. Gets him all excited.”
Her tormentors left the room and Katherine subsided.
A few moments later the door again opened and a well-dressed, graying man entered.
“Hello, my dear,” he said pleasantly and strolled over to look at her. “Very nice. Very nice indeed. My compliments to Pearl.”
He squeezed the inside of her thigh painfully, then slid his gloved hands up over her body. His hands roamed her, squeezing and pinching, till she yearned to cry out. Why on earth did he keep on his gloves? It was so ludicrous that, but for the pain and humiliation, it would have been almost funny. His eyes took on a new glitter as he withdrew a small stick from his pocket, a stick to which were attached tiny leather thongs. Katherine flinched involuntarily and he smiled. He applied the tiny whip to her in sharp little slaps. The little strings of leather hardly cut her flesh but were extremely painful, like hundreds of stinging little nettles hitting her skin. Finally she began to cry from the pain of it, and then he unbuttoned his trousers, shoved himself into her, and came quickly. He withdrew, rebuttoned his trousers, replaced the tiny whip in his pocket, and withdrew a small brown bottle.
“A parting gift,” he said and smiled agreeably.
He took a little dab of ointment from the bottle and rubbed it into her wounds. It felt nice and warm; how peculiar he was. Then he replaced the bottle, removed his gloves, and said, “Goodbye.”
Katherine stared after him in stunned silence. Her mind and body felt so bruised and battered she couldn’t even come up with any coherent thought. Gradually the warmth of the ointment changed into a burning, itching torment and she writhed with the pain of it, choking and gasping on her own sobs. They left her for hours in her debased position, wracked with the burning. At last they came and untied her, threw a blanket over her and left her to huddle into a little ball and cry herself to sleep.
The next morning the terrible burning was gone, though her legs and arms still ached. She also felt as if she were dying of hunger and thirst. So when a maid brought in a bowl of the vile porridge, she gulped it down eagerly and was even grateful for the weak tea that accompanied it. After that she was left alone all day, free to torment her mind with the impossibility of her situation and the awful things that were no doubt planned for her this evening. She received no more food until another bowl of porridge late that afternoon.
About an hour later, she began to feel very peculiar— listless, sleepy, yet she could not sleep. Her room began to slant oddly and for the first time she realized that the floor sloped downward to the door. How very odd. And how odd that the ceiling was rising, moving away from her. It made her feel dizzy. Soon Pearl and a maid came in; their faces strangely distorted.
“How do we feel?” Pearl asked brightly, and patted her cheek.
“You’re all hazy,” Katherine said.
Pearl smiled and she and the maid pulled Katherine to her feet. She swayed slightly and stared at Pearl; she seemed so far away, but when Pearl reached out, she could touch her—her arms were fantastically long.
“I’m glad to see you becoming agreeable,” Pearl said pleasantly. “Now we’ll just get you all prettied up here.”
The maid pinned a brief piece of gold material around Katherine’s hips, then a longer diaphanous gold scarf. Another scarf was wrapped around her torso, barely covering the tops of her breasts and leaving her shoulders bare. Then a final veil was draped over her hair and down across her shoulders.
Pearl clapped her hands in delight “Now, ain’t that just beautiful? You’re going to be a great success. Oh, the toe ring, Bessie, that will be just the right touch.”
The maid knelt and slipped a ring with a great amber jewel onto her left large toe. Katherine looked down at herself in bewilderment. Pearl reached out and took her hand. Docilely Katherine followed her out the door and down the stairs. She was led into the red room, now full of noise and smoke and people. Katherine shrank back from it, but Pearl firmly led her in.
Pearl’s booming voice rang out across the noise. “I have a special treat for you tonight, boys! Straight from a sultan’s harem.”
Immediately all heads were craning to see her. Pearl said something to Paul and he picked Kathe
rine up and stood her on the black marble bar. Every eye in the room was riveted on her. Across the room, Katherine could see her reflection in the mirrors; surely that couldn’t be she. Not that voluptuous creature wrapped in golden gauze, her breasts boldly thrusting out, her tawny hair tumbling wildly to her shoulders, her eyes huge and velvet-soft. She did look like something from a harem. That wasn’t Katherine; no, Katherine was above her, floating up to the ceiling. She smiled to herself; how she had tricked them. They were all looking at the girl on the bar and here was Katherine on the ceiling, escaping them.
“Yes, gentlemen, this beauty was purchased at great expense from the harem of the great sultan Ibn Saud. Now, I was quite puzzled about who should get her her first night here, seeing as how you’d all be wanting her. And then I thought; why not give her to the highest bidder? Huh, gentlemen?”
There was a murmur of approval. Slowly Pearl drew off the veil covering her head, then the gauzy material that covered her breasts. The room grew hushed in lustful anticipation. Pearl paused at the next scarf.
“No offers, gentlemen?”
Immediately men all over the room began to call out amounts, the numbers rising rapidly. Pearl laughed merrily and detached the next filmy veil. The voices rose in volume and number.
Katherine looked out numbly at the sea of faces, flushed with desire, eyes glittering. Dear God, why couldn’t she move? Why did she feel so detached and filled with lassitude? Why couldn’t she lift her feet to run from this new humiliation? Why couldn’t she call out or even cry?
Keeping up a running chatter, Pearl pulled off each seductive veil. The clamor rose as they all leaned forward in anticipation, their faces lust-crazed. The figures they shouted rose staggeringly until finally the last veil fell away and her whole lovely ivory body was revealed. At the sight of her firm, smooth flesh, bewitchingly golden in the soft light, their voices reached a fever pitch.
Gregory, Lisa Page 25
