Her hand rose to his cheek as he unhooked her yashmak. It fluttered aside like a butterfly, forgotten as she became a part of his heated gaze. “I feared you were dead,” she whispered. “You were gone so long, and no one heard word of your efforts to capture Abd al Qadir.”
“I have no desire to speak of the hill bandits,” he murmured.
“Because it reminds me that I should hate you?”
“But you do not hate me any longer.” His mustache teased her skin as he found the point along her neck where her pulse throbbed in anticipation of his touch.
She laughed. “Must you make it sound that I am wrong not to hate you?”
His hands moved in a lazy circle along her waist. “I feared you did when you obeyed the one order I knew you must hate more than any other.” His thumbs curved up along her side as he whispered, “I never expected you to go to Yasin ibn Hayyan.”
“I thought I had no choice.”
“You didn’t.” He laughed, his eyes sparkling like twin stars. “But why didn’t you act as you usually do and resist every edict with your Franj stubbornness?”
“I thought …” Her voice faded away as she stepped out of his arms. Looking at the wall that must be between her bedchamber and his, she leaned her head on the bed’s post.
His hand against her cheek brought her to face him. “You thought that I wanted you to submit to the caliph?” He chuckled without amusement. “I must ask you what my mother asked me. Where is your wisdom, az-Zahra? I cannot believe that you would think I would give you to another.”
“Not even for help in stopping the hill bandits?” She wanted to believe him, but he had been false with her so often. “You sent no order for me to stay away. How was I to know you did not want me to go to him?”
The tip of his finger touched the shadows between her breasts. “Listen to your heart.” His finger moved to stroke her breast. When she sighed with unrestrained longing, he whispered, “In it, you will hear mine calling to you.”
“I have not dared to listen.”
“Then heed this.” He tugged her into his arms, his mouth capturing hers with the ease he had captured her heart. She softened against him, wanting what had frightened her before. Losing control of herself in his arms would be the most dangerous thing she could do, but not giving herself to this craving would be worse.
“Melisande! I—”
Gabriel growled under his breath at the interruption. He frowned at the young woman standing in the doorway. Her eyes were wide with dismay as she looked from him to Melisande before dropping to kneel on the floor. He repeated the curse under his breath when Melisande rushed to the woman. He was not sure of her name until Melisande spoke it.
“Kalinin, it is all right.”
“I did not mean to intrude, but I was filled with such joy when Lysias spoke of what had happened,” Kalinin said, not lifting her head. “Forgive me, shaykh.”
“You are forgiven.” He clasped his hands behind his back as he saw the dismay on Melisande’s face. That his voice was sharp or that they had been interrupted … again? “Rise.”
Kalinin did as he ordered. She squeezed Melisande’s hands, then rushed out of the room.
“You seem to have made many allies in my harim,” he said as Melisande stood.
“Friends, Gabriel. Your mother and Kalinin have made me very welcome.”
He held out his arms. She wore a shy smile as she walked back to him. The soft robes which hinted at the slender curves beneath them could have been created simply for her. With her glorious hair flowing down her back, she was an invitation to rapture. And in her eyes was the desire he had waited to see, the desire that would make this night all the more pleasurable.
He pulled her into his arms, awed anew how perfectly she fit against him. This woman who had come from beyond the rims of his world now wanted to be his. When she offered her lips to him, he could not resist.
The clearing of a throat by the door was something Gabriel wanted to ignore. When the sound came again, he bit back the curse that had done no good before. He released Melisande as she grew rigid against him.
He did not understood why when he saw Karim Pasa in the doorway. Then he saw someone else approaching the room. The caliph!
“Stay here,” he hissed. “Stay here and be silent.”
She nodded. He had guessed she would realize how much trouble could be caused if the caliph discovered her in Gabriel’s arms.
Although he wanted to linger just long enough to kiss her once more, he walked to the door and through the drapes. He let them fall back into place. If the caliph glanced toward the room, he would not be able to guess what woman was within. The silk would disguise even Melisande’s hair.
“Is something wrong?” Gabriel asked, offering the caliph a smile. “I trust you have found Falla pleasing.”
“More pleasing than this.” He held out a rolled paper. “It was delivered to your rooms.”
Taking it, Gabriel opened it and scanned it. This time, he did not even bother to snarl an oath. He slapped it against his hand before striding toward a door to the mabeyin. Over his shoulder, he said, “Karim Pasa, I ride to avenge this outrage by the hill bandits.”
“I will inform those who need to know, shaykh.” He bowed deeply.
Gabriel threw open the door from the garden. As the caliph stormed through, shouting for his men to prepare to fight alongside the shaykh’s, Gabriel looked back at the room where the curtains shimmered in the starlight. He had vowed by his father’s deathbed to protect these hills, as his father had before him; but the sacrifice demanded by that vow had never been as high as tonight.
TWELVE
Melisande had not guessed the night could be so long. After changing back into her beaded jacket and long breeches, she had walked again and again from the garden to the door that opened from her rooms into the mabeyin. Beyond it, Gabriel was fulfilling his vow to protect these hills. She put her palm against the wood, but it held not even a hint of his warmth.
She had heard the fury in his voice when he had given Karim Pasa his orders before leaving with the caliph. Only twice before had she heard that uncompromising rage. She had heard it on the night he’d agreed to help her get her vengeance against Abd al Qadir for Geoffrey’s death and on the day when the hill bandit slipped through his fingers. No, she had heard it once more. She touched the door again. It had been in his voice when she’d entered his rooms to become the caliph’s.
“Milady, may I speak with you?”
She did not turn. “Karim Pasa, have you heard any word?”
“I have a message from the shaykh for you.”
Whirling to face him, she asked, “He has returned?”
“No.” He stepped forward and drew something from beneath his voluminous robes. Laying it across his palms, he extended his arms toward her.
Melisande stared at her broadsword in its sheath. Slowly her hands rose to take it.
“The shaykh,” Karim Pasa said in this most formal voice, “asked me to have this returned to you, milady.”
“From his weapons room?”
He lost his aplomb and blurted, “You know of that?” Not giving her a chance to answer, he continued, “The shaykh wanted you to have this to protect yourself.”
“In case he does not return?”
He nodded, his expression solemn. “It is the shaykh’s wish that you not be brought to the caliph or any other man against your will.”
Her hands closed around the sword as she blinked back the tears she had fought since Gabriel had left. This kindness revealed that he cared for her as she had hoped. “Thank you, Karim Pasa,” she whispered.
“I am pleased to serve, milady.” Putting his fingers to his forehead, he bowed to her as he had to Gabriel. “Lady Lysias asks if you wish her company tonight.”
“Tell her I am fine.” She hesitated. “Unless she wishes mine.”
He smiled. “I shall let her know of your concern for her. She will be pleased.”
“She and you have been good friends.”
Again he bowed, then clapped his hands. A serving maid pushed through the drapes, carrying a tray with a goblet and a ewer. Karim Pasa filled the goblet and handed it to Melisande.
“To ease your thirst while you wait, milady.”
Gratefully she took the goblet. She sipped as he followed the maid out of the room. Going to the chair where she could draw up her feet and watch the starlight over the garden, she set the sword beside her.
Was Father looking up at these stars, too? Was he fearing for her as he grieved for Geoffrey? By now, the request for ransom must be in his hands. He had many friends and lieges here in the Holy Land. With their help, he surely would raise the gold to buy her freedom.
She touched the sword’s hilt. Dieu le veult. Because of God’s will, she must fulfill her pledge to see evil gone from this land. Because of her pledge, she must leave Mukhdarr and Gabriel.
Resting her head back against the chair, she yawned. Maybe she should sleep. In her dreams, Gabriel was safe, the war was over, and she was in his arms. It could not happen during her waking hours, but in her dreams …
The goblet slipped from her fingers. She thought about catching it, but moving was more than she could do. Sleep rolled over her in the moment after she realized Karim Pasa had duped her into taking a sleeping potion. She succumbed to sleep, knowing that here she could be in Gabriel’s embrace in a place where nothing but love would dare to intrude.
“Melisande?”
The voice came from within her dreams, brushing her ear with warmth. Slowly, she opened her eyes. No more than a single lamp burned within her room, and she could see only shadows.
“Melisande?” Lips touched hers so swiftly she was afraid the dream was fading.
Turning onto her back, she gazed up at the silhouette leaning over her. She did not need light to see Gabriel’s face. The glow of happiness bursting outward from her heart recreated every strong angle in her mind.
“Are you really here?” she whispered.
“I believe I am.” Amusement sifted into his voice.
“The hill bandits—”
“Are of no interest to me now.” His hand glided along her side.
She stretched, reveling in his touch as his fingers curved along her waist. She held up her arms. This dream must not end now. He grasped her hands and drew her off the bed. She quivered as her bare abdomen touched his naked chest.
“Gabriel, stay here with me.” She brushed his hair back from his face as he had hers so often. Had he thrilled to the simple touch of strands falling over his fingers, each one an individual caress, as she did?
Gently, he took her fingers in one hand. He picked up the oil lamp and motioned toward the garden. “I will stay with you, but not here.”
“Then where?”
He branded her with the swift fire of his kiss before whispering, “Where no one will interrupt us.”
This must be a dream, for she had longed so many times to see this smile on his lips, gentle but filled with a longing that could no longer be denied. When he led her out into the garden, she saw that the stars were fading with the advent of dawn. The only sounds were the soft hush of water and the distant call of a bird. For a moment, she could believe that bird was the only other thing awake. The night was theirs alone.
When he paused by the wall, she watched in amazement as he pushed aside the shrubs and opened a door she had never seen. He pulled her through to a space enclosed by another wall, then closed the door behind them.
“There are many secrets within the seraglio,” he said softly.
“What is this place?”
“See for yourself.” He took her hand and brought her around the wall.
She stared in disbelief. Lanterns hung from the trees, lighting a waterfall that must come from higher in the mountains to flow into a pool that must empty into the lake in the heart of the harim. The raw rock of the mountain was not hidden behind plants, but glittered like earthbound stars.
“This is beautiful,” she breathed.
“It is—now that you are here.” He held out his hand. “But we have not yet reached the place I wish to show you.”
She placed her hand on his. When he drew her toward the cascade, she asked, “Are we going through the waterfall?”
“Trust me, az-Zahra.”
“I will try.”
He laughed as he ran his fingers along the rocks. When a portal opened, she stared in astonishment. He raised the lantern and stepped within, laughing again when she gasped.
The rocks within the cavern were alive with the colors splashed by light dancing off the waterfall. She was sure she had found her way inside a rainbow. Holding up her arms, she watched the colors swirl across them, ever-changing and iridescent.
“What do you think?” Gabriel asked as he set the lantern on a shelf carved out of the rock.
“It is unbelievable.”
“Like you.” He groaned and pulled her to him. “Be mine, az-Zahra.”
“Here?”
“No, not here.” Slipping his arms beneath her knees, he swung her up. She had no chance to put her arms around his shoulders because he lowered her to a thick mattress that was set at the edge of the rock by the waterfall. “Here.”
This must be a dream, for she could imagine nothing more wondrous than reaching up to him and bringing him down to lie beside her. Then, seeing the glow of his eyes, she knew she had yet to learn how glorious being in his embrace could be.
He pressed her back, his lips making hers captive. She stroked his skin that was jeweled with the spray from the waterfall. Touching him sent shivers of excitement through her, and she swayed toward him, every inch of her eager to savor this thrill.
The warmth of his naked skin stroked her, and she moaned. He refused to be satisfied with her mouth. His lips flowed across her face in a succulent caress that moved along her neck and down into the hollow between her breasts. Arching toward him, she curved her arms across his strong back.
He raised his head and whispered, “Open your eyes.”
She did, but her question why vanished unspoken when he undid the hooks holding her jacket closed. His gaze held hers as his hands cradled her breasts. She wanted to close her eyes when his thumbs brushed their very tips, but she could not escape the hunger in his eyes … or the hunger within her that left her breath ragged and her fingers clenching on his back.
When he lowered his head, she dared to release the breath she had been holding. It burst out in a gasp when his tongue tantalized her breast, a moist blaze that burned deep within her.
With a hushed chuckle, he rolled onto his back and brought her on top of him. Easily he pulled off her jacket and tossed it onto the cavern floor. She leaned forward to taste his eager mouth. His hands along her back held her tightly to him. A pulse started deep within her, refusing to let her savor this sweet captivity. Her body swayed against his with the throb of the pulse.
He lifted her above him so he could explore her. His mouth swept over her breasts and down her abdomen. Beneath her, his hard body teased her. She ran her fingers along his chest, matching the motions of his tongue. When he gasped against her, sending shock waves over her, he tugged her down and under him again.
“My az-Zahra,” he whispered as he drew up her leg so he could loosen the ties at her ankle.
“Tell me what to do to share this pleasure with you.” She gazed up into his midnight eyes. “Teach me.”
He shook his head as he reached for her other ankle. “I shall let you learn yourself, for I will deny neither you nor me a moment of the rapture that you seek.”
“But—” She sighed with eagerness as his fingers crept up her leg and along her hip to the ties holding her breeches closed. When they slipped within to gather up the strings, she brought his mouth to hers, unable to bear this craving alone.
He pulled her breeches from her and looked down at her. His eyes glowed as he kicked aside his own breeches. She
sat and gazed at him. With the spray upon him, each muscle shone. She watched her own fingers glide along his stomach to discover his most masculine angles. Fascinated with the change from wind-roughened skin to silken warmth, she closed her eyes as, with a groan, he pushed her back into the bed.
As his tongue caressed her mouth, his hand stroked up her inner leg. She pressed against him when he brushed her most sensitive skin. Each touch erupted within her, and she gasped his name against his lips.
He brought her under him and himself within her. She heard his gasp as he slipped his hands beneath her hips, seeking more deeply for their pleasure. The sound spiraled with her through an eddy of increasing rapture. She clutched onto his shoulders as she was caught up in an exquisite torment. Moving with him in the rhythm that came from her heart and from him, she brought his mouth to hers, his breath searing her. Drawn into the maelstrom, she gave herself to him and the explosion of ecstasy she had not dared to believe could be theirs.
Melisande laughed as water splashed her. Looking around, she tried to see Gabriel in the rush of water falling from the cliff above. The sunlight glinted off the water, hiding the depths.
Her laugh became a shriek when her leg was grasped. Water closed over her head as his arms gathered her to his sleek body. She welcomed his lips on hers as they floated together in the pool that was not as turbulent as her need for him.
When he released her, he swam around the water-fell and pulled himself up on the ledge behind it. She followed, letting him give her a hand up. Sitting beside him, she leaned her head on his shoulder while her hand rested on his thigh.
The afternoon sun was falling to the west, but Gabriel had said nothing about leaving this paradise. Did he, as did she, want this stolen moment to last for as long as possible? When his arm went around her, she turned to savor his kiss.
He held out a piece of fruit to her. “Try this.”
Uncertain how to answer, for she had been sure he wanted her kiss as much as she wanted to kiss him, she took a bite of the fruit. She laughed when its juice ran along her arm. That laugh became a gasp almost hidden beneath her swift heartbeat as he took her arm and stroked his tongue along the line of juice.
No Price Too High Page 13
