by Opal Carew
"You can't mean …"
His hot gaze told her otherwise.
"But that's barbaric." Yet the thought of this man dragging her into his arms, his mouth devouring hers, sent shivers of excitement through her.
"Insults will not better your position."
"How long do you intend to … keep me here?"
"When Dhiya returns, I will have answers. If you merely helped her, then I will consider your debt of dishonor repaid and I will let you go. If it turns out you were involved in kidnapping her, then your situation will change, for the worse."
"And if she doesn't return?"
His expression turned dangerous.
"You had better hope that she does," he growled.
She bolted to her feet, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
"You don't seem to understand. I'm the victim here."
"Silence."
Obviously, he wasn't going to listen. Fear sliced through her, colliding with anger at the unfairness of it all. There had to be some way to straighten out this whole mess.
She glared at him.
"This is ridiculous. I have rights. I demand to see the Canadian ambassador at once," she said with as much authority as she could muster.
She stomped across the room toward the exit and flung open the door. Two very large, very scary looking guards turned and stared at her. Their expressions dared her to try and leave. She took one step forward and they tensed. She glanced at the long swords settled in scabbards at their waists. Of course, they wouldn't even need to unsheathe those things. All they'd have to do is pick her up bodily and put her where they wanted her.
"They won't let you leave unless I allow it."
She turned to face the man at the desk.
"And I will not allow you to leave my house, or my country, until you have paid your debt."
She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
Chapter 2
He stepped toward her and she froze.
Did he mean to take her now? Here? With each step he took forward, her heartbeat accelerated. Pounding in her ears. Demanding that she flee. She had to fight the overwhelming impulse.
She sucked in a deep breath, and planted her feet firmly on the floor, refusing to run. Even if she wanted to, there was nowhere to go.
She was intensely conscious of the distance between them diminishing. When he stood within arm's reach, he wrapped his long, and very strong, fingers around her arm, below the elbow.
Her stomach clenched. Oh, God, she wasn't ready for this.
His gaze locked with hers and he drew her toward him. Her heart flailed like a caged animal crazed with fear and she couldn't seem to draw in any air. He reached out with his other arm. She stiffened, expecting his hand to clamp around her, to pull her against his body, but he didn't.
He pushed on the large wooden door behind her. It closed with a click, then he tugged her back to her chair. Her legs had gone rubbery, so she had no choice but to sink into it.
He stepped to his desk and pressed a button. A moment later, two women came into the room. They inclined their heads in his direction and he spoke to them in a language she didn't understand. The women stepped toward her and linked their arms with hers. She tried to pull away but failed. They seemed quite adept at this.
"Go with them. I will see you at dinner."
She let out a sigh of relief. A reprieve.
The women led her through high-ceilinged, marble hallways, up a wide curved stairway, down several more hallways, then through an arched doorway.
Before her stood a luxurious room with a large four poster bed in rich, burgundy wood, and light-weight, sapphire-blue silk bedding. A sitting area, composed of two plush, jade and blue paisley loveseats with a low, round wooden table between them, filled one end of the room near a large doorway leading to a balcony. Sunlight filled the room.
The women guided her across the room then through another doorway where she saw a large, sunken, marble bathtub. One woman ran water into the tub and the other gestured for Angelica to take off her clothes.
She'd been traveling for ten hours. Her feet hurt. She felt hot and sticky, and she desperately wanted to get out of this cumbersome robe. A bath would be wonderful, but she refused to do it with an audience.
She pointed at the door and made shooing motions to give them the idea she wanted them to leave, but they shook their heads. Finally, she crossed her arms over her chest in a stubborn stance and glared at them. They must have gotten the idea, because they reluctantly stepped toward the door.
Once they were gone, Angelica returned to the bedroom and glanced around. She stepped to the door and tried to open it. Locked.
She sighed. They could walk in at any time, but at least they had given her some space. She stripped off the cotton robe, which clung to her damp body, then peeled off her white lace bra and panties and laid them on the bed. A moment later, she dipped her toe in the tub. The water was slightly warm, which was perfect. She stepped in and sank into the water. She sighed and leaned back, allowing the water to sooth and rejuvenate her body. Her eyes closed and she began to relax, until thoughts of the tall, sexy man with the coal black eyes, who'd introduced himself only as Kadin, tumbled through her mind.
Did he really expect her to willingly give herself to him? Would he force her when she refused? Fear welled up inside her, yet at the same time, excitement thrummed through her. The man might be arrogant and intimidating, but his dangerously sexy good-looks combined with the overwhelming sense of power emanating from him played havoc with her hormones. Just thinking about him kissing her, touching her, took her breath away.
She sat up and reached for an oval bar of soap from a brass soap dish at the side of the tub. As she rubbed it between her hands, it lathered, filling the air with the sweet scent of jasmine. She massaged the smooth bar over her shoulders, then along her arms. The velvety lather felt good against her skin. She ran the soap over one breast, then the other. Thoughts of Kadin shimmered through her.
Her eyelids closed as she moved the bar around and around the smooth flesh of her breast, imaging Kadin's hands caressing her. Curling around her nipples, stroking them. The bar, like his imaginary hands, stroked down her chest, then slid over her curls.
A sound from the other room startled her. She released the soap and sat up, staring at the doorway. She heard female voices murmuring, then the door close. Then silence.
Angelica grabbed a small bottle of shampoo from a basket of toiletries beside the soup dish and washed her hair. The same jasmine scent as the soap wafted around her.
A few moments later, she stepped out of the tub and dried off with one of the large, cream, plush towels, then wrapped it around her body, tucking the corner between her breasts. She towel-dried her hair, then combed it in front of the oval mirror on the wall. When she returned to the bedroom, she noticed with a start that her clothes were gone. All that was left was a silk robe, which she quickly slipped into, dropping the damp towel.
A tall pitcher full of ice and what looked like lemonade stood on the low table. A small stemmed goblet stood beside it, already full and waiting for her. The glass dripped with condensation and Angelica's mouth watered at the thought of the cold liquid moistening her throat. She picked up the goblet and sipped, enjoying the tartness of the lemon. A few moments later, she decided to lie down, suddenly sleepy. Not surprising, after the day she'd had. A short nap would be a good idea. She closed her eyes and consciousness drifted away.
Angelica heard quiet murmurs and felt soft hands on her body. Her eyes slowly opened as she felt her arms being raised and she realized two women were sliding a bra over her shoulders. She found it difficult to push back the blanket of sleep. Lethargy weighed heavily in the stifling heat. Sunlight no longer shone in the window and long shadows filled the room in the dim twilight. A third woman wrapped something around her hips. She felt hands all around her, fastening and adjusting. She pushed herself up off the bed and past the women, then
shifted out of their reach, backing away from them.
She glanced down and saw that they'd dressed her in a skimpy harem outfit. Slowly, light filled the room from an overhead fixture dripping with crystals. She saw a woman by the door sliding a switch upward. A dimmer switch Angelica presumed. She glanced down at the costume again. It was stunning in royal blue and gold with a gorgeous design formed by the intricate beadwork. The bottom of the bra and the hip band were dripping with beaded fringe. It cascaded from the bra and caressed her bare midriff. She had taken belly dance classes over the past couple of years and had eyed the instructors' costumes, wishing she could afford one for herself, yet this was more exquisite than any she'd ever seen.
"You like it, yes?" one of the women asked. She seemed to be the one in charge.
"It's … beautiful."
The woman took her hand and drew her forward. "Wonderful. The master will be pleased."
Angelica's eyes widened. They were taking her to him in this?
Of course, what had she expected?
When she slowed down, the women gathered around her and kept her moving forward. She resisted, but they kept moving en masse.
"Stop it. I won't go dressed like this."
"You must. The master has ordered it."
They quickly approached the door. Panic flooded through her. She couldn't.
"I won't wear this!" She reached behind her back and tried to unfasten the bra, but the unfamiliar closure and the fussing hands of the women prevented her from succeeding. She pulled the straps off her shoulders and tried to pull it forward.
"No, miss. You might rip it," one panicked woman insisted.
Rip it. That's exactly what she'd do. She tugged at the straps but they were securely fastened on. She switched to the belt and tugged hard. Despite the women pulling at her arms, she found where it fastened. She realized they had stopped their forward momentum as they struggled with her. She jerked several times until finally, she heard the belt tear, then it fell from her hips.
The women spoke frantically in their own language. Next, she tore at the shimmering, diaphanous fabric of the skirt, ripping it from her body. She shoved her fingertips under the bra beside her left breast and pulled hard. The elastic gave a little and she tried to pull it upwards.
"Stop! You will ruin it."
She felt fingers working at the fastening, then the bra loosened. One of her captors took it, scowling at Angelica.
The woman in charge stepped in front of Angelica, her hands on her hips.
"The master will be very angry."
"Then don't tell him."
"His orders were for you to be brought to him in that outfit."
Angelica placed her hands on her own hips, extremely conscious of her nudity but ignoring it.
"Well, maybe it's time for him to learn that not all his orders will be followed."
One of the women gasped. Angelica suspected the only reason the other woman didn't seem surprised was because she didn't speak English.
She marched away from them, snatched the silk coverlet from the bed and wrapped it around herself. She sat down, her arms crossed over her chest as she held the coverlet firmly around herself.
She had shown them she wouldn't be pushed around, she thought smugly.
Chapter 3
Angelica's smugness faded quickly when the women simply dragged her from the bed and led her through the hallways totally naked except for the cover she clung to.
They stopped in front of a heavy wooden door in a tall, arched doorway. The head woman knocked and the door pulled open. A tall guard greeted her and waved them inside. The women led Angelica into a large, sumptuous room filled with plush, upholstered couches and chairs piled high with silk and velvet cushions, all in rich jewel tones, and ornately carved, ebony furniture. They prodded her to the middle of the room and stood behind her. The guard left, but she was certain he would be standing right outside, ensuring she didn't run for it.
"What is this?" a familiar, masculine voice demanded.
She glanced around and saw Kadin, the sinfully gorgeous man who'd insisted she owed him a debt, and demanded she pay with her body. She opened her mouth to voice a protest at her treatment, but his dark, penetrating eyes stole her breath away.
His stormy gaze drifted over the blue silk coverlet cloaking her.
She straightened her shoulders, but tightened her hold on the fabric.
"They refused to provide me with decent clothes."
His eyebrows raised and he stepped toward her. She could read nothing in his coal-black eyes. His mood, whether foul or fair, was a mystery to her. His presence filled the room and, as he approached, she had to force herself not to cringe. Yet at the same time, her body buzzed with an alarming excitement.
Her body reacted to him far too easily. She reminded herself what might happen here tonight. Unfortunately, that kicked the excitement up several notches making her insides quiver.
"I see. So you decided to cover yourself with this." His tone, low and dangerous, sent alarm skittering through her.
Before she could comprehend what was happening, he grabbed the blanket and yanked it from her grasp.
Where she'd been hot a second before, now cool air swirled around her entire body. Suddenly, she stood totally naked before him. Actually, not totally naked, since the women had managed to put a necklace of beaded fringe around her neck when they'd dressed her in the costume. She hadn't noticed until she'd felt the beads brushing against her skin when they'd lead her along the hallway. She glanced down at herself in horror, her gaze latching onto the beads, the twinkling silver and gold mesmerizing her. The fringe circled her neck, growing longer toward the center, forming a point which caressed the crevasse between her breasts.
When she glanced back up she saw his stormy eyes had widened in surprise. Could it be he'd assumed she'd been wearing the costume underneath?
"Leave us." At his command, the women hurried from the room.
His expression returned to one of cool indifference as his gaze traveled leisurely down her body, in a slow, deliberate perusal. Her skin burned all over. She wanted desperately to cover herself, but she refused to cringe behind the too-brief shelter her hands would provide. Better to stand tall and proud.
Of course, that wasn't easy as she felt the heat of his gaze. It moved along her body like a hot feather lightly brushing her skin. Down her breastbone, sending goose bumps quivering along her skin. Sliding along the curve of her breast, to her nipples, which tightened and swelled erect at the unaccustomed attention. The longer he lingered there, the tighter they became. Slowly, his gaze drifted lower, down her stomach, past her navel, until he reached the dark curls.
Anxiety built within her, like lava inside an active volcano, until she felt ready to burst. Her hands clenched at her sides. She had to make him stop.
"Give me back the blanket," she demanded.
His gaze locked with hers, the edge of anger hardening his usually indifferent eyes.
"Please," she quickly amended. She was in no position to make demands, and she desperately wanted to cover herself.
His response was to thrust the blanket out of reach and step towards her, sending her anxiety level higher.
"Why have you chosen to defy me?"
She clenched her fists tighter, clinging to some shred of composure. "I couldn't wear the tiny costume you provided. It barely covered anything."
His eyebrows quirked up. "Yet it did cover something. Unlike your current attire." His finger stroked the bottom of the beaded necklace.
A jolt of electricity shot through her at the brush of his fingertip on her flesh.
He shrugged. "Certainly, an interesting choice on your part. I hope you don't get cold during dinner."
She stared at him in horror. "You don't mean … surely, you realize I didn't intend to ..."
"I do not intend for you to sit wrapped in a blanket all through dinner."
Her jaw dropped. "You're not going to leave me like
this, are you?"
He thrust his finger out, pointing at a pillow-bedecked couch. "Sit."
Oh, God. He did. She sucked in a deep breath and stepped toward the couch, her back so rigid it felt like it might snap in two. She sank onto the cushions, the feel of the plush fabric against the back of her thighs an unwelcome reminder of her nudity.
She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. Lord, this was really happening. She was held prisoner by some crazy sultan who wanted to ravage her to pay for a crime she hadn't committed. She felt tears bubbling inside her, but forced them back. She would not let him see her vulnerability. Drawing on her inner strength, she told herself she would live through this. It would all be over soon.
Her chest felt so heavy she could barely breathe and her fingers felt stiff and useless. Here she sat before this man, this stranger, totally naked. Soon, he would strip her of more than her clothes. He planned to make love to her. No, have sex with her. As a punishment.
Her hands started to shake. Would he really force her? Would he throw her onto the bed and kiss her until she gasped for breath? Would he would crush her to his body, her naked breasts flattened against his hard male chest?
She drew in a quick breath at the horrible realization that this situation actually excited her.
Damn it. If he forced her, it wouldn't be like the romantic scene she'd just imagined. If he used force it would be rough and uncompromising. She might even get hurt.
A tiny voice suggested she actually cooperate with him. Maybe even encourage him. If it was going to happen, why not reduce the trauma? He was a very sexy man.
But she couldn't give herself to a man who would demand her body as a punishment, without any thought to her wants or needs.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivers traveling the length of her arms despite the heat.
"Why do you want to humiliate me like this?"
"There is no shame in revealing a beautiful body." His gaze caressed her breasts, resting on the protruding peaks, then glided down past her navel to the triangle of curls. "And your body is exquisite."
