Page 29 of Kismet

The horses covered the distance quickly, and in moments they were met by a welcoming party of armed men who escorted them into the camp. Women and children rushed out to meet them just as they had at Nassar’s camp. The sight made her sag wearily against Jamal as they came to a halt. Lithely dismounting from his horse, he gently lifted Allegra to the ground. Her legs wobbly from the exhausting ride, she leaned against him for a moment. Seconds later, strong arms swung her upward to rest against a solid chest. The heat of him sank into her aching body, warming and relaxing her sore muscles. It was a soothing sensation and for an instant, she allowed herself to relax against him. Horrified by her reaction, she stiffened and pushed against the hard wall of his chest.

“Put me down.” Her voice was too hoarse to sound even remotely commanding.

“You can barely stand, let alone walk.”

“I’d rather crawl than have you touch me.” The bitter words didn’t even cause him to falter, but she knew he was angry from the hard line of his set jaw.

“Take care with your tongue, helwa jahannam meshsh,” he growled.

“Why,” she rasped. “Will you punish me like Nassar did?”

She glared up at him, her rage feeding the bitterness inside her. As he carried her into a large tent, he dropped her unceremoniously to her feet. Caught off guard, she had to brace her hands against his muscular arms to steady herself. Looking up at him, she flinched at the icy fury carving his features into stone.

“I’ll have one of the women draw you a bath,” he said grimly.

Without another word, he left her alone. Burying her face in her hands, she fought back the tears. She needed to think—come up with a plan. That helpless feeling coiled around her again, and she stared around the spacious tent. Unlike Nassar’s tent, there were no silken cords or tassels hanging from the tent walls. Instead, white sheepskins covered the bedding, while colorful pillows littered the floor around a large silver tray sitting on top of a basket.

Two trunks were set off to one side, their leather lids covered with woven rugs trimmed with brightly colored tassels. The one extravagance in the tent was the carpet lining the floor. It was a beautiful mosaic of color that cushioned her feet even in the leather slippers she wore. But nothing about the tent made it any less of a prison.

The soft rustle of clothing caught her attention, and she turned to see three women entering the tent with a large leather object, which they proceeded to unroll and erect in one corner of the tent. One of the women looked up to smile shyly at Allegra before returning to the task of setting up the portable tub. They finished just as two young boys entered the tent and proceeded to dump water into the vessel. Another woman entered the tent carrying soap, towels, and clothing. In silence, she offered the items to Allegra before ordering everyone out of the tent with a clap of her hands.

Uncertainty flooded through her as she approached the bath the women had prepared. Would someone return to bathe her as they had in Nassar’s camp? Her nerves stretched thin and raw, she waited for someone to burst into the tent. Several minutes passed before she realized there would be no invasion of her privacy. Setting the towels and clothes aside, she bent over and swept her hand through the bathwater.

It was lukewarm, but the water would feel wonderful against her hot, sticky skin. For a brief second, she considered foregoing a bath purely as a matter of protest. It was a fleeting thought, and she hurriedly removed her clothes. Citrus brushed across her senses as she sank into the water with a soft splash. Outside the tent, she heard female voices and tensed with fear. When no one entered the tent, a shudder wracked her body and she reached for the soap.

With a harsh stroke, she scraped the square bar of rough soap across her skin. She repeated the motion. Steady and precise, she scrubbed her skin. A tear slid down her cheek as she increased the pace of her bathing. Another tear rolled down her face as she scoured her body as hard and fast as she could.

Rana’s taunting features fluttered through her head, and she rubbed the soap over her skin that much harder in an effort to shed the memories of her captivity. The rough edges bruised her arms and legs as the memory of Nassar’s vile threats churned her stomach.

Rubbing the soap between her hands in a vigorous motion, she worked up a glob of lather and ran it over her head. The short, spiky points of hair undid her completely. Hunkered down in the tub, she wrapped her arms around her legs, rested her forehead on her knees and sobbed quietly. She wasn’t sure how long she cried, but after a time her tears became dry sobs. Inhaling a deep breath, she sat upright and forced herself to finish her bath.

She’d just stepped out of the leather tub, when the flap of the tent flew open and Shaheen strode in. Frozen where she stood, she simply stared at him in mute surprise.

“Christ Jesus,” he rasped. “They assured me you would be dressed.”

In the back of her mind, she acknowledged he was speaking English, but it was only a passing thought as she struggled with the way he was looking at her. His liquid brown gaze was a hot wind across her skin as he studied her with a look she’d seen on the faces of many different men. She swallowed hard at the heat suddenly pulsing through her body. Not one of her past lovers had ever affected her this way with just a look. As their eyes locked, fire skimmed over her skin. If it were possible for a man to devour her with his gaze, this one could.

She looked away from him. What was wrong with her? The man had traded his horse and accepted gold coin for her. How could she be attracted to him? And yet she was. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own the way her senses hummed in his presence.

Infuriated at responding so easily to him, she bent over to retrieve a towel from the floor. One of the first skills Madame Eugenie had taught her was to rejoice in the beauty of the human body. Since learning the skill she’d never felt uncomfortable standing naked in front of a man—until now. This man made her feel vulnerable, and she didn’t like it. Nonetheless, the skills she’d learned in the brothel stood her in good stead as she forced herself to ignore him and dry herself off with a nonchalance she didn’t feel. He cleared his throat in an obvious sound of unease as she dried the water off her skin. The sound returned a precious sense of control back to her.

“I’ll”—he paused for a fraction of a second—“come back in a few moments.”

“There’s no need. I believe it’s customary for a buyer to inspect his purchase.” She didn’t try to keep the bitterness out of her words as she slid a pair of aquamarine sherwals up over her hips.

“It wasn’t like that, goddamnit,” he bit out with a fury that increased the already warm air inside the tent. “I didn’t have any other choice.”

“Then tell me what it was like,” she sneered.

Wearing nothing but the wide-legged pants, she turned to face him. His eyes flashed with an emotion she knew well. Her sense of power and control grew as he closed the distance between them to tower over her. The warmth of him enveloped her body. It was far too pleasant a sensation. She breathed in quickly at the fire blazing in his eyes. It stirred something deep inside her—an emotion she knew better than to feel. She swayed slightly on her feet and his hands seared her arms as he steadied her.

“You misjudge me, ma belle.” The instant the back of his hand glided along her bare shoulder she trembled. With one seductive caress, he’d stolen back the sense of power and control she’d regained just moments ago. “I didn’t buy you, Allegra. I bought your freedom.”

“I don’t recall you saying anything to that effect when we left Nassar’s camp or when we arrived here.” She shook her head partly in denial and in a half-hearted effort to ignore the hypnotic way her name rolled off his tongue.

“Believe what you want, but it was your freedom I bought, not you.” Desperately she fought to keep the flame of her anger burning inside her as the palm of his hand glided over her skin to the base of her throat.

“Then I’m free to go?”