"Reskind, Jon - The Abducted Bride" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reskind Jon)

"Oh, yes my dove," he cooed. "I liked her very much, but one month with the same girl is a little too much. You know they tire so quickly when left in my care. A pity too, just when I have them trained well to appreciate my little playful sessions, they seem to lose their fire.

"I suppose you have passed her on to your playmates in Algeria as usual," Monique said.

"Yes, she went rather reluctantly, but I am a businessman and can't let my investments sit too long without making a return on them. Must keep the money moving, you know," he said slyly. A secretive grin directed at Monique. "I have some excellent movies made of her that will go well on the British market though, you'll have to see them later."

"I'd love to some other time, Gamal," Monique replied, sipping at the whiskey he had poured her. "Right now, I think we had better discuss my new little donation to your pleasures. I think you will be very interested."

"Tell me about her, my dear. When I see so much enthusiasm in your eyes, I know it must be something special," the Arab chided, his face brightening at the thought of what was in store.

"First, Gamal, you know I only bring you the best, correct?" Monique asked, looking at him over the edge of her upraised glass.

"Yes, I feel you do well for me, but I have had problems with some of them," he added the last sentence quickly, sensing that the bargaining was beginning. "You know, they are young and so unworldly, I must do much training to prepare them for my clients."

"Why you old lecher," Monique laughed, "you know very well that's why you're in this business, so you can sample the merchandise before you pass it on to your friends."

"My dear, my dear," the Arab objected, raising his hands, "it is not for I, Gamal, that I do these things. I must do them to make certain my reputation as a businessman is respected. My clients are the wealthiest in Algiers and I dare not send them something that I myself have not trained to perfection."

"Yes, Gamal, you train them until they lose their fire, you said?" Monique chided, raising an eyebrow toward him.

"Ah, but there are ways of restoring that to them. This is where my drug business assists me."

"Like doping race horses, my dear," she replied. "They have enough for one last dash and then useless."

"Monique, my dear, you are unkind. Let us stop this silly bickering," he said sadly. "You know I am a sincere man and honest. I am in a very competitive business and profits have not been good for the last several years. Do not take advantage of my helpless position, I beg you."

"There, there," Monique consoled in a motherly tone, laughing inside at the show the Arab was putting on. She knew him well by now and knew she would have to sit through his weeping sessions each time she came. All Arabs are the same, she mused to herself. They never grow away from the rug-sellers mentality. It doesn't matter if they, are dealing with one franc or one million, their approach is always the same. Business is bad and your price is too high but because you are a friend they will sacrifice and give you half the price you ask, even though they cry it will drive them to bankruptcy. Well, Monique knew enough by now to ask exactly double the price she expected to get and many tears later they would arrive at that figure. Strange that they weren't more original than this, but they weren't. Perhaps the practice was instilled too deeply in their heritage to ever change.

"Gamal," Monique paused after speaking his name and then said casually, "she's an American."

There was a moment's silence as she let the thought sink into his mind. She observed a slightly perceptible twitch in the corner of his mouth as he grasped what she was saying.

"Ah, that is too bad, my dear, I thought you had something special for me. You know they have no native abilities for the finer passions. It is a long expensive process to train them well. My investment would be tied up for several months. It would mean such a strain on my meager finances." His face had contorted into its usual piteous plea and he had placed his hand against his forehead in classic sufferance.

"Gamal, my love," Monique purred, "this is no time for theatrics. You know as well as I do that you could buy the Eiffel Tower and it wouldn't dent your purse in the slightest. Besides, you must think of the expenses I have incurred and the danger in bringing her to Marseille." This was all part of the game and they played each time she came. The Arab knew she hadn't spent a franc and would only have to pay the hotel bill when the poor unfortunate girl disappeared, but he had respect for the protocol of bartering and played his part with her.

"I know, my love, and I am willing to help you in this matter but I must watch my expenses. The last one cost me a great deal and I did not receive nearly as much as I paid for her. It was a sacrifice."

Monique knew that he had at least doubled his money after taking a months pleasure for himself and including all expenses of smuggling her out of France and into Algeria. She also could detect that when she had dropped the statement about her being an American it had won her battle. She would get her price and perhaps more. A plan began forming in her mind as she watched the concerned look on Gamal's face. He wanted this girl and Monique now just had to put him in the position where his decision would be made under more emotional circumstances. She knew his weakness of desire to humiliate and if she could arrange it so that the girl would be in a helpless position defenseless against his lust, she could sell her on the spot for a goodly sum.

"I understand your concern, nay dear Gamal," Monique said, still turning the thought over in her mind. "One should never buy without seeing the merchandise first. I think I can arrange this."

This was a new approach and the Arab suddenly sensed that this clever French woman was up to something. He changed his tone and spoke more softly.

"Now, now, my sweet Monique, we needn't go to all that trouble. You know how valuable my time is to me. We can just settle for the same amount we did for the last one, even though she was rather weak. I trust your judgment explicitly."

"No," Monique said, sensing his eagerness, "I want you to make the decision after you see her. She may not be worth that much to you and I want only your happiness. I won't accept a franc more than you think she is worth. Unless, of course," she added slyly, "your opinion does not suit the true value, but I don't think a man with your good eye will make that mistake."

Gamal knew the bargaining was over for the day as he detected a note of finality in Monique's last statement. He knew she had something this time or she wouldn't be so certain of her position. He knew also, that he would probably have to pay dearly for whatever it was she had. Well, he would take a look. He had been doubling his investment on the others she had brought him and perhaps he could do even better with this one. He might even get her down to a lower price than before. At any rate, he gloated to himself after Monique had left, he could hardly wait to get his hands on an American bitch. He hadn't had one in almost a year but he could still remember the pleasure he had in converting her reluctant mind to accept his perverted acts. In fact, he had been forced to almost destroy her mind first. He hoped this one would not be so difficult.