Pharaoh's Desire (14 page)

The last contestant was a tall, burly man with massive forearms and thick fingers. His long reach was ideal for archery. Under any other circumstances, Amonmose would have recruited him for his army. Earlier, he’d heard another competitor refer to this man as the Barbarian from Morocco. His long, dark hair and menacing gaze drew hisses and scorn from the crowd, but it was marksmanship that mattered today.

The Barbarian proved to be an excellent marksman. All three of his arrows hit the center of the target. While he was clearly not the crowd favorite, the spectators showed their appreciation of his skill with a standing ovation nonetheless. He now had a total score of thirty points, easily securing his victory in the second round.

Amonmose did not dwell on his defeat. He was now in second place among the five remaining competitors. There was one more event, and he was determined to win.

The third and final contest involved shooting six apples from the tops of six wooden poles while on the back of a moving horse. Five sturdy mounts were led in for the contestants. He could see each mount was quality horseflesh, with rich-looking coats. Amonmose wondered from whence these fine animals came. They were definitely not from his stables.

He was so focused on the horses for a moment that he almost overlooked the woman leading them. To say she was gorgeous was an understatement. Amonmose watched her approach slowly and seductively. She was tall and voluptuous with a firm bosom. Her caramel-colored skin almost matched his, but it was lighter and no doubt, softer. Her long, reddish brown hair was worn in thick braids and upswept to reveal her lovely oval-shaped face.

Nadesh stepped out into the arena and took the woman by the hand. “I present my niece, Zahra,” he said. “Zahra has graciously loaned her family’s prize Arabian horses for this event.”

Zahra slipped her hand from her uncle’s and kneeled before Amonmose. “It is a pleasure to be of service, Pharaoh.”

Amonmose had both of Nadesh’s wives, and neither looked like they could be related to this beauty. He motioned for her to rise. “All of Thebes thanks you for your contribution, Zahra.”

Zahra stood and licked her lips seductively. “May I say that you are even more handsome up close?”

Amonmose raised an eyebrow at her boldness. “Thank you,” he said graciously covering his surprise. “I promise, your mare is in good hands with me.”

Zahra glanced suggestively at his hands before smiling. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

Kama watched the mysterious woman talking to Amonmose but, because of the distance, could not hear what was being said. She had been introduced by Nadesh, which Kama made Kama suspicious. Did Amonmose know her?

The announcer stepped up on his podium and spoke, his deep voice ringing loud and clear. “You are the last five competitors. Remember, you must hit the first two apples upon approach, the second two while passing, and the last two after you’ve passed the targets. The poles are fifty meters apart. Please draw to choose your steed.”

As the men drew straws, Zahra excused herself. Amonmose found his eyes wandering over tempting backside as she walked away, but he forced himself to focus on the contest. This year’s competition had proved the most challenging so far. He was enjoying himself, but he could not afford a break in his concentration.

The Barbarian drew the long straw, which meant he was allowed to choose his place in the order of the competitors and the first mount. He took his time, and after a thorough inspection of each animal, he selected a chestnut horse. Amonmose approved.

The Barbarian elected to go last. Amonmose pulled the shortest straw, so he would ride first. He mounted the mahogany mare and expertly took up the reins. As the horse adjusted to his weight, he surveyed the wooden posts in the distance. He could do this.
 
He lifted his eyes to the crowed. Whether he won or lost today, it would surely be talked about for years to come.

The announcer signaled him. It was time.

Amonmose cleared his mind of everything except the contest. He took a moment to steel himself, and spurred his horse forward, thighs locking hard on the animal beneath him. Within seconds, he’d pulled the first arrow from his quiver and launched a shot. The release was smooth, and the apple toppled from its high perch. A roar that might have been cheering filled the air around him. The horse’s gait was flawless, and she moved to the rhythm of his commands.

He toppled the second, third and fourth apples from their perches, and knocked another arrow. As he passed the fifth apple, he shot, easily spearing the fruit, and it was on to the last.

Something was amiss. Instead of a wooden pole, Zahra stood in the arena, with an apple balanced on her head.

Stunned, Amonmose slowed his horse. Had she gone mad? What was she doing out there? As his concentration broke, he could hear the loud roar of the crowd, urging him on.

“Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!”

Madness. But this was the competition he had entered. If Zahra wanted danger, he would give it to her. He spurred the mare up again and they flew passed her. In one swift movement, he turned and launched his last arrow. It spiraled through the air and hit the apple dead center, splitting the fruit into two pieces. The cheers rattled the skies.

Amonmose did not know whether to be angry or elated at Zahra’s stunt. One movement from her could have caused his horse to spook. Not to mention that he might have missed and landed his arrow in the middle of her pretty forehead—or her lush bosom. She could have been killed, or worse yet,
he
could have been killed.

Amonmose turned his horse and rode back toward her. He extended his hand and pulled her onto his horse, intent on giving her a ride back to the starting point and chastising her for her recklessness. But Zahra had plans of her own.

The moment he lifted her onto his mount, she turned and straddled him, pressing her ample curves against him. Then, she planted a deep, searing kiss on his lips. Her mouth was hot and wet, alluring in all the right ways. She touched her tongue to his, coaxing, begging.

He gently pushed her away. “That was…foolish.”

Zahra fluttered her long eyelashes. “What was foolish? The stunt or the kiss?”

“Both.”

She laughed. “Perhaps. But you loved it, didn’t you,” she declared in a sultry voice. “The crowd loved it too. Listen to them!”

She was right. The cheering had not stopped. Amonmose had given them a show that they would remember for the rest of their lives, thanks to this brash, presumptive girl.

He smiled broadly at her. “The next time you plan something like that, let me know in advance.”

Zahra was silent as they rode back across the arena, a secret smile touching her lips

Kama’s heart sank as she watched Amonmose and the mystery woman. Had this woman been the distraction that had kept Amonmose from coming to her? She heard mutterings of approval from the onlookers in the stands. The women wished they were down there, and the men made raunchy comments. Even Dyzet’s sisters were swooning with delight over the Pharaoh’s performance.

Kama felt anger begin to swell inside her.
 
She whispered to Dyzet. “She must be the diversion that has held the Pharaoh’s interest for so many days.
 
How dare he flaunt his conquest in front of me?”

Dyzet gave her a look of disbelief. “Diversion?
 
I told you, he’s been preoccupied with preparing for this event.
 
I don’t think that woman is his
conquest
.
 
Besides, everyone knows he is smitten with you. The palace tongues wag about his continuing infatuation.”

Kama pointed to the arena below. “Look at him! Does he look like a man smitten? He has found another.”
 

Amonmose was grinning from ear to ear, with the red-haired woman by his side, lapping up the attention like a thirsty dog. The more Kama watched, the more her blood boiled.

“You cannot have it both ways, Kama. First, you run from him. Now, you are jealous.

“I trusted him.”

Dyzet clasped her hands and squeezed them hard. “Then go to him and tell him how you feel!”

“Never!” Kama stood, abruptly pulling her hands free. “My time in Thebes is done.”

Dyzet stared up at her, aghast. “You cannot simply—”

“It is clear he has chosen another, in which case he will have no further need of me. Tonight I will go to him and demand my freedom. This time, I shall not be denied.”

Chapter Nine

The Festival continued into the late hours of the night. People hugged each other, sang loudly, and drank the wine and beer that flowed freely. In the end, few could remember who had been victors and in which events. Exception for the archery contest. Everyone spoke of the Pharaoh’s defeat over five other archers, including the Barbarian, whose good fortune ran out when he misjudged the angle of the fourth pole and missed the apple by a hair.

Amonmose’s elation had lasted only a few minutes. After the announcement of his victory, he’d searched the arena for Kama’s white dress. He had seen her earlier among the other noble women, but she had vanished. This was the fourth year he’d won the contest, yet his victory rang with a strange new hollowness in his chest. While the rest of the city celebrated joyously, Amonmose retreated to the quiet solitude of his chambers.

He found solace in a casket of wine. As he stared into the depths of the crimson liquid, he wondered how he’d managed to fall so far. There was a time when he’d needed no one, man or woman. He remembered the hard shell around his heart that could not be penetrated under any circumstance. He remembered when his own joy was enough, when

he commanded his relationships like he commanded a military operation. He came in, he conquered, and then he moved on when he grew weary of the occupation
.

As he poured more wine, he found himself looking at the map of Nubia again. This map had changed his destiny forever. As long as he lived, he would never forget the night he met Kama. He would always remember her flashing dark eyes, her contemptuous stare, and her utter defiance in the face of obvious defeat. The image of her clutching her white garment against her beautiful black skin would be embedded in his brain for eternity.

He could still smell the burnt air swirling around his nostrils as he watched the night wind blowing her long hair wildly about. He’d wanted her before she even spoke a word. Now, he had her and could not find his way.
 
Taming her was like taming the Nile itself. One moment she was calm and serene; the next, she was turbulent and unpredictable.

As he guzzled his wine, he heard a discreet knock at his chamber door.

“Yes?” Amonmose growled.

Baal opened the door with no hesitation, as though he had not heard his Pharaoh’s surly voice. He slipped in quietly and closed the door behind him. “Sire, you have a visitor. The woman insists on seeing you.”

Amonmose nearly choked on his wine. “Well, what are you waiting for? Send her in immediately.”

“As you wish.”

Amonmose watched Baal turn on his heel and exit, a slight hesitation in his step. He frowned and then frowned further at the thought of Kama. So, she was finally here. What was he supposed to do? Apologize? Argue? Pretend to be aloof? Take her in his arms and make wild, passionate love to her? How could he make her want him as badly as he wanted her? For the first time in many years, he was at a total loss.

“I thought you would be much happier to see me,” he heard a silky voice purr.

Amonmose turned. “Zahra!”

“In the flesh.” She sauntered over to him, her hips swaying seductively in a sheer tunic. The see-through material revealed her naked body beneath. “You were expecting someone else?” She pouted.

Amonmose chuckled. “Zahra, you are full of surprises today.”

Zahra smiled sweetly at the way the Pharaoh laughed. It was so powerful and masculine, just like everything else about him. She walked a circle around him, openly appraising his muscular body, and not bothering to hide her admiration. At the Festival, he’d worn a short tunic, which accentuated his lean, muscled legs. Now, he was clad in a long kilt knotted at the waist. His feet and chest were bare; she had caught him at a private moment. Most women would have been intimidated, but she was well versed in the art of pleasing a man. If she planned it just right, she could end up in his bed tonight.

“You do not like surprises?” she asked.

He gave her a mischievous grin. “I confess I can appreciate a nice surprise as much as the next person.”

Zahra sashayed over to the casket of wine on his table. “Hmm. You have an odd way of showing your
appreciation
.” She picked up an empty goblet and licked her lips seductively. “Mind if I share your wine?

Amonmose watched as Zahra pulled the cork from the casket, and the deep red elixir quickly poured out. Within seconds, her goblet overflowed, and she let out a startled yelp. He rushed to help, but
 
too many goblets of wine made him clumsy, and it took two attempts to get the cork to fit snugly. As he fumbled, the excess wine flowed from the spout onto the tabletop and floor, ultimately splashing onto the ornate tile.