Twice Upon a Time (3 page)

“Okay,” Reece said, glancing around with a sudden seriousness. “Let's assess the situation here. Your clothing would lead me to believe that you're very rich.” He took her hands and eased her to her feet. Dozens of golden bangles jingled together. “I mean, you're a walking jewelry store. Look at you. Mmm. Look at you.” He stole a kiss.

“Which
me
are you looking at?”

“The good lookin' one.”

She gave him a reproachful look.

He chuckled. “Don't tell me you're jealous of the foxy harem girl who hangs out with eunuchs.”

She lowered her eyes. It was foolish, but she was jealous of the harem girl. Reece took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and urged her to look up at him.

When their eyes locked, he said, “I'm not looking at the harem girl. I’m looking at Lara Kensington and I find her body delectable, her face beautiful, her wit delightful, and her jealousy charming, though completely unnecessary.” He kissed her lips again, very gently and then nibbled on the lower one before soothing it with his tongue.

“You think I'd be safe from this kind of assault when in the company of a eunuch,” she said, ducking her chin to hide a grin.

He groaned. “Low blow, sweetheart.”

“Can eunuchs get...” She glanced down at his crotch, now hidden behind a gauzy red cloth. “Can you get...”

“Get what?”

“Hard?” She glanced pointedly at his crotch.

“So you
do
want to have hot monkey sex in the sand. I was starting to worry that I’d lost more than my woobles.”

She laughed. “Stop it. I’m serious. Can you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you see what you can do?” She took a step closer to him. Damn, he was hot.
It
was hot. The sun reflecting off the sand. Hot. Yeah. That’s why she was on fire. Sure. Lara ran a hand down the muscled ridges of Reece’s abdomen. Something in his improvised pants twitched.

“Is that a camel in your pants or are you happy to see me?” He laughed. “I don’t think it’s a camel. Might be a cobra.”

“So you can get excited. Can you come?”

“Lord, I hope so.”

“Me, too.” She stepped away. They’d have to test out the equipment later. She was too feckin’ hot to actual y consider sex. “So where and when are we? Any ideas?” He glanced around and then appraised Lara more closely. “Rich, gorgeous, young woman in the company of a eunuch out in the middle of the desert with no travel provisions. I think we’re somewhere in the Middle East or northern Africa. There were eunuchs that served and guarded harem women during the Ottoman empire. Fifteenth through the nineteenth century.”

“There were also eunuchs in India who served royal women.” Being a history major finally had a useful purpose.

“You look royal, but not Indian. Maybe we’re in Ancient Greece.”

“In the desert? What are we doing out here in this wasteland with no provisions?”

“I might say we were out on a walk, but more likely we're running from something.”

“Such as?”

“I have no idea, but at least we didn't land in the middle of a battlefield this time. It’s a nice change of pace. It might be hot, but at least it’s non-violent.” A low rumble could be heard off in the distance. Lara glanced up at the sky, expecting thunderheads, but the only thing in the clear, blue sky was the blazing sun.

The sound grew louder. She checked the broken amulet around her neck, which hummed when it was activated, but it was silent. She tucked it inside her garments.

Reece pointed over her shoulder and she turned. A cloud of dust was heading in their direction. In front of the cloud was cavalry of Ottoman soldiers, recognizable by their distinctive tufted helmets.

“I spoke too soon,” Reece muttered.

The cavalry drew to a halt several yards from Lara and Reece. One of the soldiers, likely the leader, urged his horse forward.

“You are lucky we found you, Princess Farima,” the soldier said in Turkish.

Lara gaped at him. Even though she understood his words, because the body she shared (
Farima
) understood the words, Lara couldn't think of a single thing to say. She was too busy staring at the broom-thing attached to his helmet. Did he just cal her a
princess
? Not as a sentiment or an insult but because she actually
was
a princess?

Whoa. Surely that had some perks. The knight moved his gaze to Reece. “What are you doing here, Nasir? I thought you accompanied Governor Ashar to Mecca.”

“I was charged to protect the princess in his absence,” Reece said in heavily accented Turkish. It apparently wasn’t his native language.

The soldier didn't look convinced. “In the desert?”

“Wherever she happens to be at the moment.”

“I guess it is up to the governor to straighten this out. You better hope your claims are true. If you kidnapped her—”

“He didn't,” Lara insisted. “He was trying to convince me to return home.” She knew it was a lie. She could feel Farima's upset, and her need to protect Nasir. While she couldn’t read her host’s thoughts, she could sense her feelings. Lara was certain the princess and the eunuch had been running away together. The guy must be a great listener or something, because there was no way he was any good in the sack. Seeing as he was completely lacking in the sac department.

“Let's go,” the soldier said, and reached for Lara. “Your husband will return soon and will be upset to find you missing.”

Husband?
The princess had a husband?

But, but, but… what about Nasir?

She tried to catch Reece’s eye, but he had his attention elsewhere. Mostly on the long spear aimed at his chest. When she was seated safely in front of the lead knight, Reece mounted up with another of the soldiers. The company turned and headed back the way they'd come. Within a mile of travel, a palace seemed to appear at the edge of the sand. Apparently, Farima and Nasir weren’t very good at plotting escapes.

Lara knelt on a cushion at the feet of an elegant, middle-aged woman. She peered down her nose at Farima for a long moment and then released a weary sigh. “Farima, are you not happy here?” she asked.

Lara tried to analyze the feelings of the young woman she was sharing a body with.

No unhappiness. Mistrust. Fear. Lara had no idea who or what Farima feared—maybe the imposing woman staring down at her—so Lara merely shook her head. She’d learned in her last few leaps not to say things that might get her host into trouble. Or committed to an asylum.

The woman gnawed on her lower lip and stared at the tiled ceiling as if it held all the answers. “The caravan to Mecca is once again under attack and your husband must tend to that situation. He will deal with you when he returns. I do not have the energy for this foolishness, Farima. You are to be isolated in his chambers until his return. His other wives are demanding your death for betraying him. You will be safer away from the harem.”

You don’t say.

Lara bowed her head at the woman. The last thing she wanted was to be isolated from Reece. Wel , second to last. Being dumped in a harem with a bunch of wives who wanted her dead didn’t sound appealing either. “My guard…”

“He will continue to protect you, so long as you do as you are told. Even though I am suspicious of Nasir, Ashar continues to defend you both and seems to think you are without guilt. My son does have a blind eye when it comes to you, Farima. He’s so proud to have the sultan’s favorite daughter as his wife that he can’t see the dissention right under his nose.”

Lara was having a hard time grasping the dynamics here. The palace belonged to her husband, who was a governor. She was a princess, not because she married him, but because she was the sultan’s daughter. This woman was apparently her mother-in-law. She had no idea how Nasir, the eunuch, fit into this. He was her guard, yet he had some connection with her husband. She wondered how long Farima had known Nasir.

Was this a new love or one that had begun before she’d wed? And why did the harem women want her dead? Farima obviously wasn’t happy here. Maybe she’d been trying to return home to her father and Nasir had agreed to help her. She had romantic feelings for Nasir. She felt that clearly. Farima loved Nasir. She also seemed to be worried about her husband, but was it because she cared about him, or because she was afraid of what he’d do upon his return? Lara couldn’t tell.

This being dumped into a body without understanding the situation was more than a challenge. Staying quiet and being obedient seemed her best course of action until she had more information.

Lara squirmed upon the cushion before the imposing figure of her mother-in-law trying to come up with a safe thing to say. “I am sorry for running away. I was frightened.” That felt right. She was frightened. And so was Farima. “I will do as you ask so long as Nasir is there to protect me.”

“You should be honored that my son keeps you as his favorite wife. He has not visited the harem since you arrived.”

That might explain why the rest of the harem women thought she deserved to die.

Lara nodded, keeping her head bowed and her eyes downcast.

“We are happy to have you here. This union forges a strong political connection between this state and the capital in Istanbul. A child will solidify that connection. I’m sure you understand why my son keeps you in his bed.” So that’s why she was married to this Governor guy. It was a political union, not one forged out of love. Lara felt a keen sadness for Farima. She had been used as a tool.

And at some point had fallen for Nasir, though she was married to another.

“Now return to my son’s quarters. You are to stay there until you are directed elsewhere.”

She nodded. The woman clapped her hands and a large, African man appeared at her elbow.

“Escort the princess to her husband's apartments,” the woman said. “Be sure she does not get lost on the way there this time.” She pinned the man with an icy glare.

“Yes, madam.”

The man stood inches from Lara's elbow and guided her from the chamber and through the opulent palace without actual y touching her. He used his personal space to direct her through the maze of corridors. Lara gawked at the intricate tile work and the carved arches that supported the tall ceilings. Blue and green and white tiles formed beautiful, geometric patterns on every surface. They entered a set of pavilions and passed many beautiful women—most wearing near-transparent garments undoubtedly due to the oppressive heat, all sending hateful looks in Lara's direction. The fear she felt was not feigned. Her concern was real. These women wanted her dead. She could sense it. The governor was doing Farima no favor by picking her as his favorite.

They entered a final corridor and the man guiding her stopped outside a door. He bowed to her and then turned to face the other direction, obviously standing guard.

There was another African man on the other side of the double doors. She assumed these doors led to the apartment of Farima’s husband. Lara pushed the door open, hoping she wasn't supposed to knock first. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but the quarters were like a series of suites in a luxurious hotel. She wandered through the rooms, which were empty except for the occasional guard standing in the shadows. She found an enormous private bathing pavilion, lounging rooms, various bedchambers, and finally a large private dining room. Upon the low table, Lara found a banquet of fragrant pilaf, roasted meat—lamb perhaps—platters of sliced vegetables decorated with olives, arugula and feta cheese.

She glanced around nervously. Was this for her? She was hungry, but more than that, her tongue felt like a salted slug within her mouth. She could really use a drink.

Lara sat at the table and one of the servants fil ed her plate with food and her goblets with water and wine. One of the eunuchs stepped beside her and took a drink of her water before she could start chugging it down. He hesitated before reaching for her wine and sampling that as well. Lara was too stunned to cuss him out. What kind of rude person drank from another’s glass? He then began tasting the food on her plate.

She could not believe his audacity until after taking a bite of every dish on the table, he nodded and went to stand by the wall again. She realized he was making sure she hadn’t been poisoned. Heart thudding, Lara reached for her glass of water, watching to make sure the man who’d tested her food didn’t start frothing at the mouth before she took a timid sip. Her thirst won in the end and she downed the entire glass before moving on to the heavenly smelling dishes on her plate. The exotic flavors delighted her taste buds and she sampled each available dish, deciding the pilaf was her favorite though the succulent lamb was a close second.

When she’d had her fil , she leaned back into the comfortable cushions and covered her belly with one hand. The dishes she'd been using vanished from the table within seconds, carried by a lovely dark-skinned woman dressed in little more than gauzy scarves. Understandable since air conditioning had yet to be invented. The young woman smiled at her with familiarity. Lara smiled back. Lara didn’t know who the girl was, but Farima did. Lara could feel Farima’s affection for the servant and her happiness at seeing her. Now full and no longer thirsty, Lara stood to wander the apartments. She was surprised when she found Reece standing before one of the bedchamber doors.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a harsh whisper. He was bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of loose-fitting pants and golden bracelets around his nicely shaped upper arms. The right cuff drew her attention to the tribal tattoo on his shoulder.

She suddenly wanted to trace it with her tongue.

“Apparently, I'm supposed to keep an eye on a troublesome princess until her
husband
returns.”

“Poor, Farima. I think she's in love with Nasir.”

“What's not to love? A pretty boy with no nuts. Isn't that what every woman wants?” Lara slapped him in the arm. “Be nice.”

She entered the suite of rooms that were to be hers. “You know, I could get used to a place like this if I wasn't treated like a prisoner in my own home.”

“I was instructed to keep the other harem women away from you, never let you out of my sight and exist with you in seclusion. Apparently, this includes pampering you, bathing you and seeing you naked. Not a bad trade off for a slightly used pair of—what did you call them? Weebles?”