Sheik (8 page)

“They’re coming,” Haroun whispered into Jamal’s ear. “Give the signal and my men will make short work of them.”

“Nay, we do not yet know which is Youssef. If he is among them, I want him alive.”

Jamal and Haroun sank deeper into the shadows as one shadowy figure crept into the stables. The other Blue Men remained watchful just outside the entrance, unaware that they were under surveillance.

Zara heard a whisper of sound and sprang to her feet. “Father, is that you?”

“Aye, daughter, ’tis I. We must leave quickly.”
Youssef pulled a blue robe from beneath his clothing and handed it to her. “Put this on. You’ll be less conspicuous in the moonlight.”

When the blue robe was in place, Youssef said, “Take my hand, we will leave together.”

Zara placed her trembling hand trustingly in her father’s.

“That foul beast hasn’t hurt you, has he? My spy said you appeared well.”

“I’m unharmed,” Zara assured him. “I’ll be better once I leave this accursed place. We must go quietly; there are others sleeping in the stables.”

They moved toward the door, guided by a sliver of moonlight. Zara’s hopes soared. Freedom was within sight. They were going to make it! They had but to negotiate the short distance to the wall and use the ropes that had been lowered to hoist themselves up and over to the other side.

A voice echoed in the darkness, issuing a crisp order. “Now!” Immediately a dozen armed men rushed from their hiding places to challenge the Blue Men, cutting off their escape.

“Nay!” Zara cried. “We’ve been betrayed!”

“’Tis no betrayal, sweet vixen,” Jamal said, stepping out of the shadows.

Youssef sheltered Zara behind him, facing Jamal squarely. “Let my daughter go, Sheik Jamal. You have me. You no longer need Zara.”

“You are wrong, Youssef, I
do
need Zara. You can’t imagine how desperately I need her. As for you, my fine bandit, the sultan has plans for you. Your fate is in his hands now.”

“Nay!” Zara cried, stepping out from behind
her father. “Would you have my father’s death upon your conscience?”

“Youssef has broken the law, Zara. Now he must pay.”

“All the Blue Men have been rounded up, my lord,” Haroun reported. “Do you want them executed immediately?”

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?”

He did not answer as he turned abruptly and returned to his bed chamber. He was back seconds later with a caftan. “When you’ve finished your bath, put this on and come to bed. You’re safe with me tonight, or what’s left of it. Neither of us would enjoy the experience. You’re too worried about your rather.”

The charged atmosphere quickly cooled after Jamal left her to enjoy her bath in private. As Zara soaped and rinsed her body, then tackled her hair, her thoughts grew dark and dismal. What would become of her father? Would he be put to death by the sultan? What could she do to keep Jamal from releasing her father into the sultan’s custody? Was there nothing she could offer Jamal to keep her father safe?

The answer came to her, clear and concise and definitely unwelcome. She had only one thing to
offer Jamal… herself. She could surrender to his seduction and remain his slave forever. Even though permanent captivity would likely kill her, she’d do it for her father and all the people who depended upon him. Without Youssef to lead them, the Berbers would lose their fight against unfair taxation and might never regain their lost lands.

Her solution to the problem was not a simple matter and could not be decided upon without considerable thought. First she had to appeal to Jamal to grant her time alone with her father. She had to know how to best serve Youssef without endangering his life. If she must sacrifice her innocence to save her father’s life, then so be it. Jamal wanted her. And to be perfectly honest, she’d just as soon let Jamal be the man to give her that first taste of pleasure.

Jamal was waiting for Zara when she returned to the bed chamber. He was lying in bed, gazing absently out the window at the star-studded sky. He smiled at her and held out his hand.

“Come, you must be exhausted.”

“How did you know my father would come for me tonight?” Zara asked as she perched gingerly on the side of the bed. “Who betrayed him?” She needed answers before she could sleep.

“No one betrayed Youssef. I discovered the remains of a camp while hunting yesterday and put two and two together. Caravans never come this close to Paradise. It’s off the beaten path. I knew Youssef would come for you sooner or later and decided to keep watch every night until he showed up.”

“Let him go.”

“Are you mad? I’m not anxious to commit suicide. And that’s what it would be if I betrayed Moulay Ishmail. The sultan wants Youssef. Go to sleep, Zara. I’m too tired to do battle with you.”

“Do you want me, Jamal?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “More than you can imagine. But when I take you it won’t be a quick coupling in the middle of the night.”

“I wish to speak with my father. Will you allow it?”

“Ask me tomorrow. I may be more inclined to allow it then.”

His answer instilled little confidence in Zara. She had to speak to her father before he was sent to Meknes. She took a deep, steadying breath and said, “I am willing to bargain for the privilege of seeing my father.”

She finally had Jamal’s attention. His eyes opened slowly and he searched her face through narrowed lids. “You have very little to bargain with, sweet vixen.”

His voice was low and provocative, sending a shiver down Zara’s spine. “I have something you covet, my lord.”

“What I covet can be taken without your permission.”

Her chin rose fractionally. “By force, my lord. Is that how you would have me?”

“Nay, sweet vixen. I want you hot and willing. We will strike a bargain, you and I. One we can both live with.”

Chapter Seven

Surrounded by the warmth of Jamal’s body, Zara awoke slowly the following morning. The moment she opened her eyes she became aware of many things at once. His large hand cupped her breast and his body was curved around hers. She hadn’t fallen asleep until dawn, lying stiffly at Jamal’s side, waiting for him to reach for her. But he did not. His gentle snoring had finally lulled her to sleep.

“You’re awake.” His breath was warm against her ear. “Did you sleep well, sweet vixen?”

“Nay. I do not like your hands on my body.” Could he tell she was lying?

He pushed himself to his elbow and turned her to face him. “I like the feel of my hands on you. Your breasts are magnificent. Full and firm but not overly large. Your nipples stand out like ripe
cherries, my favorite fruits. I intend to feast on them until I am sated.”

Zara pushed his hands away. “We have a bargain to strike,” she reminded him. “When can I see my father?”

His eyes narrowed. “Aye, a bargain. Very well, sweet vixen, we shall strike another bargain. State your terms and I’ll state mine.”

“You want me, my lord. You may have me as a willing participant in your bed until you tire of me. In return, I ask only that you set my father free.”

Jamal gave a derisive snort. “Nay, Zara. I cannot free your father and you know it. Here are my terms. You may visit your father daily until he is sent to Meknes. In return, you will come to my bed willingly whenever I want you.”

“That is not acceptable, my lord.”

“You forget,” Jamal reminded her, “that you are my slave. I have no need to bargain with you when I own you body and soul. The reason I do so now is because I prefer not to force you to my bed. But you have made a shambles of my patience. You have no rights, sweet vixen. Accept my terms or your father will suffer the consequences.”

Zara bit the soft underside of her lip, her mind working furiously. Had she driven Jamal too far? Most men would not have put up with her defiance. They would have bedded her whether she wished it or not.

“You said I might visit my father while he is here.”

“That is true.”

“Then grant me one small boon. Do not send Father to Meknes right away. You will find me most appreciative if you hold him prisoner here instead of sending him to the sultan.”

“Sooner or later Youssef must go to Meknes,” Jamal contended.

“Make it later,” Zara pleaded. “The sultan doesn’t know Father is here yet, and as long as his caravans are no longer threatened, he will not care.”

“He will care. Ishmail wants Youssef’s head. But I will grant you this boon, my sweet. For the time being, Youssef and his followers will remain my prisoners. Do not ask more of me than that.”

Zara felt a surge of joy. As long as Youssef remained, she knew she could find a way to free him. Obtaining her father’s freedom would be worth the loss of her innocence. She had retained it longer than most women; thirteen was considered the ideal age for brides and concubines.

“Very well, I agree to your terms.”

Jamal gave her a slow, provocative smile. “Allah be praised. My patience is about to be rewarded. In my arms, sweet vixen, you may be as wild as you like.”

“I wish to see my father,” Zara said, refusing to return his smile. Her decision gave her little joy.

“I will arrange it. You have this day to prepare yourself for me. After your visit with your father, Hammet will take you to the harem. Nafisa will take care of you.”

The moment Jamal spoke his name, Hammet entered the chamber. “Are you ready to break your fast, my lord?”

“Aye, bring enough for two. Zara will share my repast.”

When Hammet left, Jamal rose naked from the bed. The sight of him took Zara’s breath away. His legs were long and strongly made; his torso rippled with muscles and tendons beneath smooth golden skin. His entire body bespoke power and supple grace. Hands on hips, legs spread apart, he faced the open window and drew in several deep breaths before glancing at Zara.

“Come, we will bathe together before our food arrives.” He held out his hand. “Come.”

Zara placed her hand in his and followed him into the
hammam
. Fresh soap and drying cloths had been laid out and the tub sparkled with fresh, clean water. Hammet’s doing, she supposed. Jamal removed Zara’s caftan and led her into the water. Then he reached for the soap.

“You have a lovely body,” Jamal said as he rubbed jasmine-scented soap over her torso. “Tonight I will explore you thoroughly. Before night’s end you will know my body as intimately as I will know yours.”

His hands slid provocatively over her breasts, stomach and hips, and then he turned her around to soap her back and buttocks. “Sit on the edge of the tub,” he requested.

Zara dared not disobey, lest he change his mind about her father. When she was seated on the lip of the tub, he reached down for her right foot. Lifting it from the water, he soaped her foot and leg, his hand straying into the damp tunnel between her legs. Zara gasped and squirmed. Jamal
seemed not to notice as he finished with one leg and reached for the other. By the time he was done, Zara was trembling.

“Now you may bathe me,” Jamal said, “but not with jasmine-scented soap. I prefer something less feminine.” He handed her a jar that smelled of pine and spices.

Zara wanted to throw the soap in his face but thought better of it. As long as her father was Jamal’s prisoner, she was vulnerable and totally under Jamal’s control. He knew she would do anything to keep Youssef safe. Dipping into the soap, she began to spread it over his body. She was surprised to find that she enjoyed the feel of his flesh beneath her fingertips, so smooth and firm, so hard beneath the velvety surface of his skin. She was startled when his muscles jumped in reaction to her touch. Did her hands on his body give him the same kind of pleasure as his hands on her body gave her? she wondered dimly.

Zara skirted around Jamal’s half-aroused manhood as she spread soap down his legs. When she finished she stepped back and said, “I am done, my lord.”

Jamal was puzzled by her shyness. Had she never touched her bandit lover’s body? “Soon, sweet vixen, you will be as comfortable with my body as you are with your own. You have much to learn despite your experience. Unfortunately, there is no time now to teach you. Come, let us break our fast together.”

Hammet had their meal set out when they returned to the bed chamber. Zara ate quickly of
the boiled eggs, flatbread, fresh fruit and yogurt. She couldn’t wait to see her father.

“I’m finished,” Zara said, setting down her fork.

“I have just begun my meal,” Jamal complained. “I know you’re anxious to see your father so I’ll have Hammet take you.”

Once again Hammet appeared as if by magic. Did he read his master’s mind? Zara wondered. She watched carefully as Jamal removed a brass key from a small casket sitting atop an ebony table inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

“Slip my
djellaba
on over your caftan,” Jamal told her as he handed Hammet the key. “You must dress modestly in public, Zara.”

Zara did not object. Indeed, she was grateful for the encompassing garment. Without proper undergarments, the caftan was fit only for the harem.

Hammet led Zara through the courtyard to a row of one-story buildings built against the south wall of the compound. He stopped before the first squat building and fit the key into the lock. The door opened and Zara stepped inside.

The single window high in the wall admitted a dim beam of light. Zara spied her father immediately. He sat cross-legged on the dirt floor, his back resting against a bench that also served as a bed. Before him on a low table were the remnants of a meal and a jug of water.

“Father!”

Youssef rose to his feet and held his arms out to his daughter. Zara rushed into them, hugging him fiercely.

“I’m sorry, daughter. Things didn’t work out as
planned. Now we are both Sheik Jamal’s prisoners. I cannot think who could have betrayed us.”

“No one betrayed us, Father. Jamal saw camel tracks and signs of a recent campsite while in the hills hunting. Caravans rarely come this way. He suspected that you and the Blue Men were in the vicinity. There could be only one reason for you to be here, to rescue me. He set a trap for you.”

“I have failed you, Zara. I am as good as dead. The sultan wants my head and will likely have it once I’m sent to Meknes.”

“You’re not going to Meknes, Father,” Zara said, lowering her voice. She knew Hammet was just outside the door and didn’t want him carrying tales back to Jamal.

“How can that be?”

“I’ve persuaded Jamal to keep you here for the time being. That will give me time to find a way to free both of us.”

Youssef was no fool. “You
persuaded
Sheik Jamal?”

“I struck a bargain with him.”

Youssef frowned. “You have no bargaining power, daughter.”

“You’re wrong, Father.” She flushed and looked away. “I have something Jamal wants.”

“You mean he hasn’t already taken what he wants from you?”

“Nay, he has taken nothing from me. I was not willing, and he would not force me.”

Youssef appeared confused. “You are his slave, are you not? He has the right to do with you as he pleases.”

“You don’t know Jamal, Father. He is … not
like most men. Perhaps his English mother influenced him, but he is not a man who enjoys taking a woman by force.”

“You can’t sacrifice yourself for me,” Youssef argued, appalled. “I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop me. Jamal won’t hurt me, I’m certain of that. I know I can find a way to free us once I earn his trust.”

“It’s too dangerous. You must not do this. Have you forgotten your betrothed so soon?”

“Nay, I’ve not forgotten. But I won’t let you lose your head without doing everything within my power to prevent it.”

Suddenly the door opened and Jamal stepped inside. He sensed the tension between father and daughter but did not remark upon it. “As you can see, Zara, your father is well. He has been neither starved nor beaten. Go with Hammet; he will take you to the harem.”

Zara wanted to protest but dared not. For her plan to work, Jamal must learn to trust her. “I will return tomorrow, Father.”

Jamal’s gaze followed Zara out the door. Then he turned his attention to Youssef. “Your daughter has pleaded for your life.”

“I thought my fate was up to the sultan.”

“So it is, but it pleases me to grant Zara’s wish, at least for the time being. You are to remain here as my prisoner until such time that I decide you are no longer of use to me.”

“By that I take it to mean that you will keep me alive for as long as my daughter pleases you in bed. When you tire of her, you will send me to
Meknes. What will become of my daughter then, Sheik Jamal?”

Jamal frowned. Youssef’s accusation came too close to the truth for his liking. “What did Zara tell you?”

“That you have not harmed her, and that she has struck a bargain with you. Zara is a beautiful woman, and few men would leave her untouched. I thank you for that. But ’tis not my wish that she sacrifice herself for me.”

“’Tis no sacrifice, Youssef. What Zara and I do will be for our mutual pleasure. Count yourself lucky to have such a caring daughter. Whatever happens, Zara will not be made to suffer for your sins. She and I have struck a bargain. I am a man of my word.”

“You are a man who wants a woman and will go to any lengths to get her,” Youssef charged. “I cannot like what Zara is doing. Take her to wife if you want her that badly.”

“Wife?”
Jamal nearly strangled on the word. “Zara is my slave, nothing more. I have three concubines. I do not need a wife. I am at sea for long periods at a time, and a wife would be a hindrance. Besides, your daughter has already had a lover. She knows a man wants a wife who’s had no others before him.”

Youssef nearly choked on his anger. Jamal deemed it expedient to leave and did so while Youssef was still raving over Jamal’s unjust accusation.

Zara wondered what Jamal and her father were talking about as she followed Hammet into the
courtyard where the three concubines were taking their ease. Leila sat at the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in the water. Saha sprawled on her stomach on a nearby bench, popping sweetmeats into her mouth while Amar sat at her feet, strumming a stringed instrument. When Zara appeared, all activity came to a halt.

“The Berber witch is back,” Saha said disparagingly. “Why does Jamal subject us to such a violent person?”

“She has bewitched our master,” Leila said.

“What is that offensive slave doing here, Hammet?”

“I but follow my master’s orders,” Hammet said, shoving Zara before him. “I’m to take Zara to Nafisa. Zara is to entertain Jamal tonight in his chamber.”

“What!” Saha cried, eyes blazing. “How can Jamal want someone like her when he can have us? You must have heard wrong, Hammet.”

“My hearing is perfect, Lady Saha. It is not your place to tell our master whom to bed.”

“Why would Jamal prefer a bad-tempered stable slave when we are all eager to please him?” Leila asked with a pout. “’Tis as I said, Saha, the Berber slave has bewitched Jamal.”

“I am no witch!” Zara denied hotly.

“Inside with you,” Hammet said, pushing Zara through the door into the harem. “Pay them no heed. They are jealous because Sheik Jamal has been sorely neglecting them since you arrived. I will leave you to Nafisa but will return later to escort you to the sheik’s chambers.

“Make Zara presentable, Nafisa,” Hammet said
to the old woman, who met them at the door. “She is to entertain the sheik tonight.”

Nafisa’s weathered face broke into a knowing grin. “So Jamal will finally have you. I wondered how long you would hold out. He is brave and handsome and an extraordinary lover, I am told. You have caused much contention among Jamal’s concubines. He summoned Leila to his bed chamber then sent her away without giving her a chance to pleasure him. They blame you for his lack of interest.”

“’Tis not my fault,” Zara claimed. “I would rather mate with a camel.”