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

Zara gave a strangled cry and clung to her father.

"Nay," Jamal said, "lock them in an empty storage room until I decide what's to be done with them. 'Tis the sultan's right to dictate punishment."

"Move," Haroun said, prodding Youssef with the tip of his scimitar.

Zara's chin rose stubbornly. "I will go with them."

"Nay, you will not," Jamal said with quiet authority. When Zara ignored him and tried to follow her father, Jamal grasped her arm, pulling her toward the house. "You, my lovely Berber warrior, will stay where I can keep an eye on you."

He dragged her through the inner courtyard and into his chamber.

"Is all well, my lord?" Hammet emerged from the shadows holding an oil lamp that he had just lit in anticipation of Jamal's return. He set it down on the table and turned his gaze to Zara.

"Extremely well, Hammet. Youssef has been captured."

"Shall I take this... er... rather smelly person to the harem, master?"

"I'm sorry the smell of horse dung offends you, Hammet," Zara said sweetly, "but I find the scent far more pleasing than the stench of your master's chamber."

"Shall I fetch the bastinado?" Hammet asked, startled by Zara's defiance.

"Not just yet, Hammet," Jamal said, sending Zara a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Tonight Zara will share my bath and my bed. You may seek your own bed."

"Are you sure you won't need my help?" Hammet asked, reluctant to leave his master at the mercy of the Berber vixen.

"I can manage, thank you. It will take more than a razor-tongued female to do me harm."

Hammet left reluctantly. Once he was gone, Zara rounded on Jamal. "What are you going to do to my father?"

"Your father is a bandit. The sultan, not I, will be his executioner." That said, he pushed her toward a slatted partition at the far end of the room. "Come along, you are long overdue for a bath."

Jamal pushed her behind the partition and Zara found herself in a hammam no less elegant but on a smaller scale than the one in the harem. The huge sunken tub was surrounded by cushions and couches and gleaming white tiles.

"Take off your clothes. You must bathe if you are to sleep in my bed."

"I'd prefer to sleep on the floor," Zara argued. "We have struck a bargain, remember?"

Jamal gave her a smile that was far from comforting. "Things have changed. Your father is my prisoner now."

"Nothing has changed!" Zara charged.

"We'll discuss it later. Do as I say. Undress and get into the bath. There's soap in the jar next to the tub."

Muttering to herself, Zara undressed quickly and sank into the tub. The water was warm and felt delicious against her skin as she immersed herself to her neck. She closed her eyes and laid her head back against the rim, unable to restrain the sigh that slipped past her lips.

She sensed him watching her, felt his burning gaze upon her. The piercing heat seared her every place it touched. He made no move toward her, just stood there watching.

She opened her eyes and stared back at him, startled by the intensity of his desire. "Must you watch?"