"Shiek" - читать интересную книгу автора (Connie Mason)

"Forget the wager," he said fiercely. "You are my possession. Give to me. Let me taste your passion."

"You are demanding more than I can give. You're asking for my soul," Zara declared passionately.

"Nay, I want only your body," Jamal denied. His words sounded flat and without substance. In truth he wanted much more from the Berber princess. He wanted her body, her soul, her joys, her sorrows. He wanted to possess her very essence, to give her his in return. When he thrust into her tight sheath he wanted her to forget any past lovers and cling to him in sweet passion.

Allah help him. He wanted her so desperately his concubines held no appeal for him.

That terrifying thought made him pull away and stare at her. What had Zara done to him? She had turned him into a eunuch; he wanted only one woman. Zara. What in the blessed name of Allah was he going to do? He could force her and lose his wager. And lose her forever. Or he could continue his seduction, which seemed to be failing.

"You have bewitched me," he said harshly. "Leave me! Return to the harem. I need to think."

Zara scrambled to her feet and stumbled toward the door.

"On second thought," Jamal said thickly, "send Saha to me. Perhaps she can quench the fire you have started."

Zara turned and raced from the room, her cheeks burning. Let him vent his lust with Saha, she thought dully. Let the redhead pleasure him all night long; she didn't care. But for some obscure reason, she did care.





"Sheik Jamal is an extraordinary lover," Saha told Leila and Amar as they sat beside the pool in the small garden outside the harem. "He was tireless last night," she lied. It wouldn't do to tell her companions that Jamal had dismissed her, telling her he was too tired to do either of them justice. "There was no end to his loving. I was quite exhausted when he sent me back to my room."

Leila and Amar sighed dreamily, wishing it were they who had spent the night in Jamal's arms.

"Do you not think our sheik is a magnificent lover, Zara?" Saha baited.

Zara, who was serving refreshments to Jamal's concubines, paused, sending Saha a withering smile. "I do not know, Lady Saha."

"You have spent many hours alone with Jamal," Leila contended. "He must have found you unworthy of his attention if he did not let you pleasure him."

"Jamal does not like blondes," Amar said smugly. "Zara is not beautiful as we are, and she is far too skinny and tall to attract a man such as our master."

"I do not like mint tea, Zara," Saha said. "Fetch me something cool to drink. Perhaps a fruit sherbet."

"These apples are bruised, Zara, bring fresh ones," Amar ordered.

"I need a wet cloth to wipe my face, Zara," Leila said. "Be sure it is scented with my special fragrance."

Zara had taken just about all she could from Jamal's spoiled women. They were indolent, pampered creatures with mush for brains. They didn't have a thought in their heads that wasn't of a sexual nature.

"I'm busy," she said, deriving great pleasure from the shocked silence that followed her words. "Do it yourselves."

"I said I wanted something cool to drink," Saha repeated, thrusting her cup of tepid tea at Zara. "Take this away."

A sly smile turned up the corners of Zara's lips as she took the cup and deliberately emptied it into Saha's lap. Saha leaped to her feet, her eyes brilliant with hatred as Zara gave her a wicked smile.

"I've never seen you move so fast, Saha," she taunted.