Uncut Bundle

by Susan Stephens

  “You believed Asaad. I don’t blame you. He made it all sound logical.”

  “I should have seen the truth right away. You risked your life, warning me that he was setting me up.” He paused. “How did it happen?” He felt a tremor go through her and silently cursed himself for asking her to relive what were surely ugly memories. “Never mind, baby. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s all right. I want to tell you. Maybe saying it all out loud will make it seem less real.” Leanna swallowed dryly. “I was with a dance troupe on a tour through eastern Europe. One day, during rehearsal, a couple of the other girls and I stepped outside the theater for some air. A van pulled up. Some men jumped out. They grabbed us and—and stuffed us into the back. I thought they were going to kill us but one girl said—she said they were slavers and—and—”

  “And,” Cam said grimly, “she was right.”

  Leanna nodded. “Asaad bought me. He was going to—he was going to use me but then you showed up. He told me he’d set me free if I—if I did things with you. I knew he was lying but you were an American. And I figured—”

  “You figured I was riding in on a white horse to save you,” he said gruffly, “except it turned out I was just an American version of Asaad.”

  “No!” She pulled back in his arms and shook her head. “You’re nothing like him, Cameron. You saved my life. If you hadn’t come to Baslaam, if you hadn’t escaped and taken me with you…”

  He smiled. “I think you’ve got that backward, sweetheart. You escaped. I just went along for the ride.”

  She smiled, as he’d hoped, and some of the darkness left her eyes.

  She was one amazing woman, his dancer.

  If only they’d met half a world away. At a party. If only they’d met in a way that hadn’t vividly reminded him of why he didn’t deserve a woman like her.

  Maybe it was just as well.

  Another time, another place, he’d have said to hell with gallantry or whatever it was coursing through him right now. Salome was beautiful and bright, qualities he couldn’t have resisted. He’d have gone into full pursuit. Sent her flowers, taken her to dinner, kissed her at her door, whispered that he hated to leave her and she’d have invited him in.

  They’d have gone to bed, he’d have said all the right things except the thing he knew better than to believe in. The thing she deserved.

  After a few weeks or maybe a couple of months, he’d have walked away. It was all very civilized and the women who moved in and out of his life knew the rules.

  Salome didn’t, and he’d be damned if he’d be the man who introduced her to the game.

  He just wished she didn’t feel so wonderful in his arms.

  Carefully he shifted his weight. Chivalry could only take you so far. If he hadn’t moved, the evidence of his still-rampant desire would be all too obvious.

  Gently he lifted her face to his and kissed her.

  “You know what?” he said, smiling.

  “What?”

  “If I don’t eat something soon, my ribs are gonna say hello to my backbone.”

  She laughed. “How come I keep forgetting you’re a Texas boy at heart?”

  “No joke, sweetheart. I’m starved. How about you?”

  Her stomach growled in response. Cam chuckled and turned his back as he slipped into his jeans and rose to his feet. “Come on, little lady. Let’s see if we can find ourselves some good ol’ barbecue in that spread Shalla provided.”

  His Salome laughed as he drew her to her feet. Smiling, he kept his eyes on her face as he buttoned her caftan but when his knuckles accidentally brushed her skin, he bit back a groan.

  Sweet Jesus, how was he going to survive this night?

  They sat at a round glass table on the balcony, talking as they ate. Then, gradually, Salome fell silent. Cam put down his plate and reached for her hand.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Why so sad?”

  Because none of this would last. Because he really was the beautiful prince who’d stumbled across a sleeping princess. Because she knew, as well as he did, that they might not survive.

  Because if she were going to leave this earth, she wanted to know she had, if only for a little while, belonged to Cameron Knight.

  “Sweetheart?”

  Leanna reached out and touched her fingers to his face. He caught her hand and pressed his lips to her palm.

  “Cam.” She took a long breath. “I want to ask you something. If you don’t want to do it…if you think I’m being too forward…”

  “Salome. Ask me anything you want.”

  “You said—you said you don’t want to sleep with me.”

  “No.” He cleared his throat. “What I said was, I can’t sleep with you, baby. God knows I want to.”

  “But there are—I mean, there are other things…”

  Her face turned pink as her voice trailed away. He stared at her and thought of those other things, and knew he’d never be strong enough to live through them.

  “Salome. Sweetheart, you’re right, there are other things. But I’m not a saint. If I put my mouth on…” Holy hell. Just the image was going to make him come. “If I do those other things, I’m afraid I’ll—that I’ll—”

  “We could take a bath together.”

  The words came out so swiftly that at first, he wasn’t sure he understood what she’d said. He ran them over in his mind, sorted them out…

  “A bath?” For the first time since he’d turned thirteen, Cam’s voice broke. “Together?”

  “Yes. In that big old tub. You in one end. Me in the other. Lots of bubbles so nobody can see anything and—and—” Leanna buried her face in her hands. “Oh God, don’t look at me that way! I’m sorry. I never should have—”

  Cam caught her hands and drew them down. “It’s a great idea,” he said bravely.

  “It is?”

  “Yes.” He swallowed. “You take the bath. I’ll keep you company.”

  Her smile dimmed. “That’s not the same thing.”

  Damned right, it’s not, he thought, but he only smiled.

  There was a chaise longue in the bathroom.

  Cam settled into it as Salome ran her bath. He’d turn his back when the time came. For now, surely there was no harm in watching her turn on the taps, or choose a bath oil from tiny crystal vials that lined a shelf near the tub.

  Nobody could fault him, either, for watching her lift her hair from her shoulders and secure it with a pin so that soft tendrils drooped against her neck.

  “Perfect,” she said.

  Perfect, he thought, and winced at the swift clenching of his body.

  Her back was to him. He could tell she was undoing the buttons on the caftan. It slid from her shoulders.

  It was time to look away.

  But he didn’t. His eyes were riveted to the graceful lines of her back.

  “Cam?” she said softly. “The tub’s so deep… Could you help me get in?”

  He nodded. It was safer than speaking, he thought as he went to her. If he kept his eyes averted, if she didn’t turn around…

  But she did.

  Slowly, slowly enough to make his heart stop, she turned and faced him.

  “Cam?” she whispered.

  All the questions a woman could ask a man swam in her eyes. All the answers he wanted to give her pounded through his blood.

  Slowly he let his gaze slide to her breasts. Her belly. To the nest of golden curls at the juncture of her thighs.

  He remembered the feel of those curls against his hand. What would they feel like against his mouth? He wanted to press his face against her, draw her scent deep into his lungs. Open her to him, watch her face as he kissed her…

  “Salome,” he said softly, “you’re trying to seduce me.”

  “I tried that once,” she said, just as softly. “And it didn’t work.”

  And now, they both knew, she was trying again. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She had never been with a man
; he had been with who knew how many women, and she thought she could seduce him?

  He was tougher than that—and tough men weren’t cowards. He thought of what she’d asked him before, if there weren’t other things they could do instead of what they both wanted.

  There were. Things that would give them both some moments of sweet pleasure without killing him, and perhaps even offer her some release.

  Cam smiled. He undid his jeans and stepped out of them. Then he lifted his dancer in his arms and stepped down into the water.

  All he had to do now was lower her to her feet. Make sure he set the pace…

  Somehow, her arms wound around his neck.

  Somehow, when he sank into the tub, she ended up on his lap.

  He had to move her. Just a little. If she stayed where she was—oh, God, right where she was…

  He shifted her. Bad idea. Her bottom was so warm against him. So female…

  Another little shift. Better. Not great, but an improvement.

  “Right,” he said, “how’s that feel?”

  Salome sighed. “Wonderful.”

  Were they talking about the water? Or were they talking about his straining flesh, swollen and aching against her?

  “The water’s so soothing.”

  Good. They were talking about the water. She was, anyway.

  “It’s magic,” she whispered.

  She was the magic. She felt so soft in his arms. So right. Her head was against his shoulder and her eyes were closed, her lashes dark crescents against her cheeks. The ends of her hair were wet and trailed over her breasts like drifts of gold and her mouth…

  Her mouth looked like a flower petal.

  Cam bent his head, brushed his mouth lightly over hers.

  “Sweet,” he whispered.

  She tilted her chin up. Her lips parted. Her mouth clung to his and he felt his blood thunder in his ears.

  “I’m going to bathe you now, Salome.”

  His voice was rough as gravel. His heart was racing. Gently he lifted her from his lap and stood her between his legs. Then he reached for one of the washcloths stacked on the tub’s ledge.

  He dipped it in the water.

  “First your face,” he whispered. “And your throat.” She closed her eyes. “And then—and then—” Slowly he ran the cloth over her breasts. He felt her tremble. He was trembling, too, as he took the cloth lower, over her belly, lower, lower…

  The cloth fell from his fingers. He bent his head, kissed her breasts as he slipped his hand between her thighs. She whimpered and his touch lingered, centered on that one forbidden place.

  “That feels…” Her head fell back. “That feels…”

  “Does it?” His voice was raw. His body was on fire. “How does it feel, Salome?”

  She sighed. He increased the friction. Warned himself that this was only for her. For her. Not for him. Not for—

  Her cry rose into the night. Pleasure, fierce and elemental, rushed through him. He had done this. Given her this.

  A feeling so deep, so intense it terrified him shot through his heart.

  Quickly he got to his feet. Lifted his golden dancer in his arms. Stepped from the tub with her clinging to his neck, with his mouth drinking from hers. Gently he set her on her feet. Wrapped her in an enormous towel.

  Then he kissed her again, lifted her again. Carried her from the bathroom to the bed, where he laid her down as carefully as if she were the most precious treasure in the universe.

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  Never, he thought fiercely. He would never leave her again.

  “Shh,” he said, and kissed her.

  He locked the sitting room door, then jammed a chair under it. The bedroom door had no lock; a chair alone would have to do.

  By the time he came back to the bed, Salome was asleep.

  He sat down next to her, smiling as he watched her. She lay on her back, her hair spread over the silk pillows.

  She was the portrait of goodness and innocence.

  And somewhere out in the vast wilderness that surrounded this place, Asaad was searching for her.

  Cam’s smile faded.

  Gently so he wouldn’t waken her, he kissed her mouth. Then he lay down beside her, drew the comforter over them both and gathered her into his arms.

  Salome sighed and lay her head on his shoulder. Cam lifted her hand and kissed it.

  Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LEANNA awoke alone in the big bed. The inky darkness of the room was filled with a silence so complete she could hear the sound of her own heartbeat.

  “Cam?”

  No answer.

  “Cam?” she said again.

  Her eyes began adjusting to the darkness. The door to the sitting room was open. Through it, she could see Cam standing out on the balcony.

  She let out a relieved breath, started to push aside the comforter—and stopped.

  Maybe he needed time alone.

  She didn’t. She needed only to be with him, but there was no reason for him to feel the same way, especially after what had happened in the tub.

  Her face burned.

  Maybe he was disgusted with her.

  She couldn’t believe she’d been so bold. Sex had never much interested her. Dance was a harsh taskmaster. It left you with little time or energy for anything else, but then she’d met Cameron Knight…

  And she’d fallen in love with him.

  Her heart did a little flip-flop.

  How could that be? She’d only known him a handful of hours. Yes, but they’d lived a lifetime in those hours.

  Who knew how much time they had left?

  Leanna sat up and threw the comforter aside. She wasn’t going to worry about what Cam thought of her. Time was too precious to waste.

  There was a robe at the foot of the bed. She put it on, tied the sash and made her way across the bedroom, through the sitting room, toward Cam. She stopped when she was almost at the French doors and let her eyes drink him in.

  He stood with his feet apart, his hands clamped around the terrace railing. He’d put on his jeans though he hadn’t zipped them up. She could tell by the way they hung low on his hips.

  Her gaze moved over his muscled shoulders and down the long lines of his naked back.

  My beautiful warrior, she thought, and smiled.

  “Cameron?” she said softly.

  “Salome,” he said, and she could tell, from the one word, that he’d known she was there. Of course. He was too good at what he did not to have heard her.

  She wanted to run into his arms, but he’d turned to face her and there was something in the rigidity of his posture that made her hold back.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked.

  “No. No, I—I—”

  “Come here,” he said roughly. He held out his arms and everything changed, the way he was looking at her, the way he held himself, the heaviness that had suddenly settled in her heart.

  She flew to him and he gathered her against him. The night was cool but his skin was warm. The scent of the oil she’d used in the bath clung to him, mixing with the aroma she loved best, the one that was all his own.

  Leanna burrowed closer. Cam closed his eyes. God, she felt wonderful in his arms.

  “Um.” She sighed and kissed his shoulder. “Aren’t you cold, standing out here?”

  “I’m fine.” His voice grew husky. “Here. Let me warm you.”

  Cam undid the sash of her robe and slid his hands beneath it. Her skin was silken; she stretched against him and made a sound like a purring cat.

  “Nice,” she whispered.

  Nice, indeed. He really had intended only to warm her but, damn it, his traitorous body was going to make a liar of him again. He shifted his weight, turned a little away from her in hopes she wouldn’t discover the truth.

  She tilted her face to his. “Have you been awake long?”

  He shrugged. “Just a little whil
e.”

  “What woke you?”