Sheik

by Mason, Connie

  “I will arrange it. You have this day to prepare yourself for me. After your visit with your father, Hammet will take you to the harem. Nafisa will take care of you.”

  The moment Jamal spoke his name, Hammet entered the chamber. “Are you ready to break your fast, my lord?”

  “Aye, bring enough for two. Zara will share my repast.”

  When Hammet left, Jamal rose naked from the bed. The sight of him took Zara’s breath away. His legs were long and strongly made; his torso rippled with muscles and tendons beneath smooth golden skin. His entire body bespoke power and supple grace. Hands on hips, legs spread apart, he faced the open window and drew in several deep breaths before glancing at Zara.

  “Come, we will bathe together before our food arrives.” He held out his hand. “Come.”

  Zara placed her hand in his and followed him into the hammam. Fresh soap and drying cloths had been laid out and the tub sparkled with fresh, clean water. Hammet’s doing, she supposed. Jamal removed Zara’s caftan and led her into the water. Then he reached for the soap.

  “You have a lovely body,” Jamal said as he rubbed jasmine-scented soap over her torso. “Tonight I will explore you thoroughly. Before night’s end you will know my body as intimately as I will know yours.”

  His hands slid provocatively over her breasts, stomach and hips, and then he turned her around to soap her back and buttocks. “Sit on the edge of the tub,” he requested.

  Zara dared not disobey, lest he change his mind about her father. When she was seated on the lip of the tub, he reached down for her right foot. Lifting it from the water, he soaped her foot and leg, his hand straying into the damp tunnel between her legs. Zara gasped and squirmed. Jamal seemed not to notice as he finished with one leg and reached for the other. By the time he was done, Zara was trembling.

  “Now you may bathe me,” Jamal said, “but not with jasmine-scented soap. I prefer something less feminine.” He handed her a jar that smelled of pine and spices.

  Zara wanted to throw the soap in his face but thought better of it. As long as her father was Jamal’s prisoner, she was vulnerable and totally under Jamal’s control. He knew she would do anything to keep Youssef safe. Dipping into the soap, she began to spread it over his body. She was surprised to find that she enjoyed the feel of his flesh beneath her fingertips, so smooth and firm, so hard beneath the velvety surface of his skin. She was startled when his muscles jumped in reaction to her touch. Did her hands on his body give him the same kind of pleasure as his hands on her body gave her? she wondered dimly.

  Zara skirted around Jamal’s half-aroused manhood as she spread soap down his legs. When she finished she stepped back and said, “I am done, my lord.”

  Jamal was puzzled by her shyness. Had she never touched her bandit lover’s body? “Soon, sweet vixen, you will be as comfortable with my body as you are with your own. You have much to learn despite your experience. Unfortunately, there is no time now to teach you. Come, let us break our fast together.”

  Hammet had their meal set out when they returned to the bed chamber. Zara ate quickly of the boiled eggs, flatbread, fresh fruit and yogurt. She couldn’t wait to see her father.

  “I’m finished,” Zara said, setting down her fork.

  “I have just begun my meal,” Jamal complained. “I know you’re anxious to see your father so I’ll have Hammet take you.”

  Once again Hammet appeared as if by magic. Did he read his master’s mind? Zara wondered. She watched carefully as Jamal removed a brass key from a small casket sitting atop an ebony table inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

  “Slip my djellaba on over your caftan,” Jamal told her as he handed Hammet the key. “You must dress modestly in public, Zara.”

  Zara did not object. Indeed, she was grateful for the encompassing garment. Without proper undergarments, the caftan was fit only for the harem.

  Hammet led Zara through the courtyard to a row of one-story buildings built against the south wall of the compound. He stopped before the first squat building and fit the key into the lock. The door opened and Zara stepped inside.

  The single window high in the wall admitted a dim beam of light. Zara spied her father immediately. He sat cross-legged on the dirt floor, his back resting against a bench that also served as a bed. Before him on a low table were the remnants of a meal and a jug of water.

  “Father!”

  Youssef rose to his feet and held his arms out to his daughter. Zara rushed into them, hugging him fiercely.

  “I’m sorry, daughter. Things didn’t work out as planned. Now we are both Sheik Jamal’s prisoners. I cannot think who could have betrayed us.”

  “No one betrayed us, Father. Jamal saw camel tracks and signs of a recent campsite while in the hills hunting. Caravans rarely come this way. He suspected that you and the Blue Men were in the vicinity. There could be only one reason for you to be here, to rescue me. He set a trap for you.”

  “I have failed you, Zara. I am as good as dead. The sultan wants my head and will likely have it once I’m sent to Meknes.”

  “You’re not going to Meknes, Father,” Zara said, lowering her voice. She knew Hammet was just outside the door and didn’t want him carrying tales back to Jamal.

  “How can that be?”

  “I’ve persuaded Jamal to keep you here for the time being. That will give me time to find a way to free both of us.”

  Youssef was no fool. “You persuaded Sheik Jamal?”

  “I struck a bargain with him.”

  Youssef frowned. “You have no bargaining power, daughter.”

  “You’re wrong, Father.” She flushed and looked away. “I have something Jamal wants.”

  “You mean he hasn’t already taken what he wants from you?”

  “Nay, he has taken nothing from me. I was not willing, and he would not force me.”

  Youssef appeared confused. “You are his slave, are you not? He has the right to do with you as he pleases.”

  “You don’t know Jamal, Father. He is … not like most men. Perhaps his English mother influenced him, but he is not a man who enjoys taking a woman by force.”

  “You can’t sacrifice yourself for me,” Youssef argued, appalled. “I won’t let you.”

  “You can’t stop me. Jamal won’t hurt me, I’m certain of that. I know I can find a way to free us once I earn his trust.”

  “It’s too dangerous. You must not do this. Have you forgotten your betrothed so soon?”

  “Nay, I’ve not forgotten. But I won’t let you lose your head without doing everything within my power to prevent it.”

  Suddenly the door opened and Jamal stepped inside. He sensed the tension between father and daughter but did not remark upon it. “As you can see, Zara, your father is well. He has been neither starved nor beaten. Go with Hammet; he will take you to the harem.”

  Zara wanted to protest but dared not. For her plan to work, Jamal must learn to trust her. “I will return tomorrow, Father.”

  Jamal’s gaze followed Zara out the door. Then he turned his attention to Youssef. “Your daughter has pleaded for your life.”

  “I thought my fate was up to the sultan.”

  “So it is, but it pleases me to grant Zara’s wish, at least for the time being. You are to remain here as my prisoner until such time that I decide you are no longer of use to me.”

  “By that I take it to mean that you will keep me alive for as long as my daughter pleases you in bed. When you tire of her, you will send me to Meknes. What will become of my daughter then, Sheik Jamal?”

  Jamal frowned. Youssef’s accusation came too close to the truth for his liking. “What did Zara tell you?”

  “That you have not harmed her, and that she has struck a bargain with you. Zara is a beautiful woman, and few men would leave her untouched. I thank you for that. But ’tis not my wish that she sacrifice herself for me.”

  “’Tis no sacrifice, Youssef. What Zara and I do will be for our mutual pleasure. Count yourself lu
cky to have such a caring daughter. Whatever happens, Zara will not be made to suffer for your sins. She and I have struck a bargain. I am a man of my word.”

  “You are a man who wants a woman and will go to any lengths to get her,” Youssef charged. “I cannot like what Zara is doing. Take her to wife if you want her that badly.”

  “Wife?” Jamal nearly strangled on the word. “Zara is my slave, nothing more. I have three concubines. I do not need a wife. I am at sea for long periods at a time, and a wife would be a hindrance. Besides, your daughter has already had a lover. She knows a man wants a wife who’s had no others before him.”

  Youssef nearly choked on his anger. Jamal deemed it expedient to leave and did so while Youssef was still raving over Jamal’s unjust accusation.

  Zara wondered what Jamal and her father were talking about as she followed Hammet into the courtyard where the three concubines were taking their ease. Leila sat at the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in the water. Saha sprawled on her stomach on a nearby bench, popping sweetmeats into her mouth while Amar sat at her feet, strumming a stringed instrument. When Zara appeared, all activity came to a halt.

  “The Berber witch is back,” Saha said disparagingly. “Why does Jamal subject us to such a violent person?”

  “She has bewitched our master,” Leila said.

  “What is that offensive slave doing here, Hammet?”

  “I but follow my master’s orders,” Hammet said, shoving Zara before him. “I’m to take Zara to Nafisa. Zara is to entertain Jamal tonight in his chamber.”

  “What!” Saha cried, eyes blazing. “How can Jamal want someone like her when he can have us? You must have heard wrong, Hammet.”

  “My hearing is perfect, Lady Saha. It is not your place to tell our master whom to bed.”

  “Why would Jamal prefer a bad-tempered stable slave when we are all eager to please him?” Leila asked with a pout. “’Tis as I said, Saha, the Berber slave has bewitched Jamal.”

  “I am no witch!” Zara denied hotly.

  “Inside with you,” Hammet said, pushing Zara through the door into the harem. “Pay them no heed. They are jealous because Sheik Jamal has been sorely neglecting them since you arrived. I will leave you to Nafisa but will return later to escort you to the sheik’s chambers.

  “Make Zara presentable, Nafisa,” Hammet said to the old woman, who met them at the door. “She is to entertain the sheik tonight.”

  Nafisa’s weathered face broke into a knowing grin. “So Jamal will finally have you. I wondered how long you would hold out. He is brave and handsome and an extraordinary lover, I am told. You have caused much contention among Jamal’s concubines. He summoned Leila to his bed chamber then sent her away without giving her a chance to pleasure him. They blame you for his lack of interest.”

  “’Tis not my fault,” Zara claimed. “I would rather mate with a camel.”

  Nafisa’s eyes widened. “I know Jamal. He would not force an unwilling woman, slave or no. He has his mother’s kind heart.”

  Zara’s chin rose slightly as she began to refute Nafisa’s words, but she couldn’t. Jamal wasn’t forcing her. She had been the one to suggest the bargain they had eventually struck and now she must pay the price. And do so willingly.

  “You are right, Nafisa. I go to Jamal willingly. You must help me to prepare myself for him. I”—she nearly choked on the words—“wish to please him.” At least until I have gained his trust and freed my father, she thought.

  “I knew you would come around,” Nafisa cackled. “Our master is a persuasive man, and according to Saha, Leila and Amar, an experienced and unselfish lover. You are fortunate, Zara, that Jamal has been so patient with you. Come, I will prepare you for our master’s bed.”

  The day passed swiftly as Zara was stripped of all bodily hair, bathed, massaged, pummeled, oiled and pumiced. Her long blond tresses were washed and rubbed to a brilliant shine with a silken cloth, and her fingernails and toenails were painted with red enamel. During the grueling session, Saha, Leila and Amar wandered into the hammam to watch.

  “She is too skinny to please Jamal,” Leila declared.

  “She has big feet,” Amar added snidely.

  “I’ll wager she has had so many men, her sheath is as large as that of a she-camel,” Saha snickered. “After one night with Zara, Jamal will send her back to the stables.”

  “Leave us,” Nafisa severely admonished. “Your remarks are uncalled for and unbefitting a lady.”

  One by one the three concubines disappeared into their rooms, leaving behind a heavy cloud of enmity. “They hate me,” Zara said, not really caring. Soon she’d be gone, and Jamal and his harem could go to the devil for all she cared. But tonight was a different story. In order to keep her father safe from the sultan’s wrath, she had to please Jamal. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to go about it.

  “You may rest in your room until Hammet comes for you,” Nafisa said. “He will bring appropriate clothing for you to wear.”

  When Zara hesitated, Nafisa asked, “Is something bothering you, child? You have nothing to fear from Jamal. He will not harm you.”

  “You are wise, Nafisa. I would ask your counsel.”

  Nafisa’s brow puckered. “In what way?”

  “I… I don’t know what to do tonight. What will Jamal expect of me?”

  Nafisa stared at Zara, disbelief etched upon her wrinkled features. “You don’t know what to do? I don’t understand, child.”

  Since they were alone, Zara spoke freely. “I am still a virgin. I know what men and women do together, but how can I please Jamal if I do not know how to go about it?”

  Stunned, Nafisa stared at Zara. “You have never taken a man inside your body?”

  “Nay.”

  “Does Jamal know?”

  Zara shook her head. “He thinks Sayed was my lover. Sayed was my betrothed,” she explained. “He was slain the day I was taken captive by Jamal. I never bothered to correct Jamal.”

  “Perhaps I should prepare an aphrodisiac for you,” Nafisa suggested. “Though you profess to be willing, you seem somewhat reluctant.”

  “Nay, I need no drug. Just tell me how to act.”

  Nafisa chuckled. “You don’t need me to tell you how to act. Jamal is an expert in the art of arousing a woman, and you will undoubtedly respond. He will introduce you to erotic pleasures that might shock you, but he will do nothing to harm you. Remember that and all will be well.”

  Zara mulled over Nafisa’s words as she rested in her chamber later that afternoon. There was no question in her mind that Jamal was an expert at arousing a woman, for she’d had more than one sample of what his talented hands and mouth could do. He had kissed her and touched her intimately, and his erotic descriptions of the things he would do to her had left her breathless and wanting.

  Should she tell Jamal she was a virgin? she wondered. She decided to wait until later to make a decision.

  A knock on the door brought her thoughts to a halt. Moments later Hammet entered. He held a goblet in one hand and something sheer and lovely draped over his arm.

  “Nafisa prepared sweet almond milk for you. She said it will help calm you. These are the clothes you’re to wear tonight,” he said, placing a silken garment on the bed. “Sheik Jamal requested that you share his meal tonight. The milk will stave off hunger until you sup.”

  Zara accepted the milk and took a sip. “It’s delicious,” she said, “thank you.”

  Hammet waited until she finished every drop, then took the empty glass and departed.

  Zara turned her attention to the clothing she’d been given to wear. She gasped in dismay when she discovered the “clothing” consisted of a single sheer veil made of contrasting shades of iridescent blue silk. Feeling much like a lamb going to the slaughter, Zara draped herself in the veil and sat down to await Jamal’s summons.

  By the time Hammet returned, she was shaking like a leaf from nervousness. It didn’t help any when the eunuch presente
d her with a gift from Jamal. The huge emerald that slid from the small velvet pouch into her palm was perfect in every respect. It hung from a slim gold chain, which Zara placed over her head. The emerald felt cold and intrusive between her breasts, and Zara wanted to tear it off and fling it away. The golden chain reminded her of her captivity, and that she was about to become the kind of woman she despised, a submissive love slave. No fetters or chains could have been more demeaning than Jamal’s gift. Swallowing her pride, she followed Hammet to Jamal’s chambers.

  Zara stood still as a statue after Hammet pushed her inside and closed the door behind her. Her eyes darted about, trying to look anywhere but at the sleeping couch resting upon a raised dais. The cloying scent of incense wrapped itself around her, drawing her into Jamal’s world of erotic fantasy.

  “I’ve waited a long time for this night, Princess,” Jamal said, rising to greet her. His hungry gaze slid over her slender, ill-concealed figure, then back to her face. “Are you wearing my gift?”

  She nodded awkwardly.

  He closed the distance between them, pulling the emerald from between her breasts. “It’s warm from your skin. I chose it because it matches your eyes.” His gaze drifted downward. “The veil becomes you. Later I will remove it so that I may feast upon every inch of your sweet flesh.”

  “I’ll try to please you, Jamal. If you wish to please me, you will get this over quickly so that I may return to my room.”

  Jamal gave her a smile that melted her bones, though she’d die before admitting it.

  “Ah, sweet vixen, you must think little of me if you believe I’ll take my pleasure and dismiss you quickly. Nay, when dawn colors the sky you will still be with me. Before this night ends you will swoon from the splendor of my loving. Resign yourself, my warrior princess, for you are mine now, and I am a vigorous lover.”

  “Keep my father safe and I’ll willingly submit to your every desire, my lord.” The words nearly choked her.

  Jamal gave a hoot of laughter. “Have I finally tamed you, my pet? I think not. I’m not stupid. I know why you have suddenly become obedient. I want you hot and passionate, not acting like a martyr on the altar of my lust. I vow before this night is over you’ll wonder why you resisted me so long.” He took her hand. “Come sit beside me, and we will share a light meal.”