Page 7 of Kismet

“I could purchase a mare from one of the traders in Marrakech and then breed her with your horse. I would pay you a fair price.”

She turned back toward him with a hopeful expression on her face. For a moment, he couldn’t believe his ears. The woman wasn’t propositioning him; she wanted to conduct an ordinary business transaction. In the next instant, he realized he hadn’t just expected her to propose a liaison, he’d been hoping she would.

Frustrated by the traitorous thought, he silently berated himself. The only reason he wanted her to offer herself to him was so he could prove she was no different than Frances. But she hadn’t done that. No, she was more interested in discussing the possibility of breeding Abyad. And to make matters worse, he didn’t enjoy coming in second to his horse. Any horse. He stepped completely out of the shadows and he watched her green eyes widen. In the moonlight, her gaze was darker and more mysterious than he’d expected.

Although her features were rather ordinary, she had a mystique about her that made her exquisite. With the tip of his forefinger, he lightly traced the line of her jaw. Beneath his touch, she quivered before she abruptly tipped her head away from him. But not even the dim shadows of the terrace could hide the way her breasts rose and fell at the same rate as her rapid breathing.

That he affected her shouldn’t have given him any pleasure, but it did. The best course of action would be to tell her to stay away from Hakim and leave her on the patio. He chose to ignore his own advice. Instead, acting solely on impulse, he reached out to touch her again. The smoothness of her shoulder was like a rich, lustrous satin beneath his fingertips. She immediately put distance between them at his touch. Her reaction made him smile.

“Tell me why I should say yes, chérie?”

“Because it will be a profitable venture for you,” she said in breathless voice. There was a guarded expression on her face as she met his gaze.

“Hmm, perhaps.” He took a step closer, but she stood her ground.

“I’m certain we could reach an agreement on a sum you’d find acceptable.”

Excitement lit up her face and she leaned toward him ever so slightly. His gaze took in the myriad of emotions dancing in her eyes as she waited for his answer with a touch of impatience. She clearly understood the significance of Abyad’s pedigree, otherwise she wouldn’t be so insistent on settling for the opportunity of offspring. The fact impressed him.

He didn’t want to be impressed. He didn’t want anything to do with her. The lie stabbed at him with vicious glee. With a jerk, he turned back toward the moonlit garden. Damn it to hell, he was insane. Why draw out this ridiculous barter session? It accomplished nothing when he knew full well he had no intention of accepting anything less than a night in her bed. He didn’t like admitting it, but he wanted her.

“I must refuse, mademoiselle. I believe you will consider my price too high.”

“I think you should let me decide whether or not I have the funds to meet your price.”

The fresh scent of honey and lemon made his nostrils flare as he breathed in the essence of her. She’d moved closer, her expression filled with the hope that he would agree to her request. It was the fact that she didn’t even attempt to use her charms in any way that made her even more persuasive.

Her manner indicated nothing more than an earnest desire to convince him their transaction would benefit them both. The smell of her was soft and enticing as she leaned into him, creating an overwhelming desire to give her what she wanted. Sweet and warm, her breath brushed his cheek as her hand touched his arm. Electricity pulsed from her fingers through his gambaz and into his body. He immediately stiffened at the shock of her touch, while alarm bells clanged wildly in the back of his head. His attraction to the woman was far more dangerous than he’d realized. The sooner he ended this farce, the better.

“All the same, if what I’ve heard is true, you will not agree to the transaction, ma belle,” he murmured, and she abruptly took two steps away from him. He turned his head and saw her face was devoid of emotion. That she was still even on the patio told him how badly she wanted Abyad to sire a foal. A tiny sliver of guilt nicked at his conscience, but he shoved it aside. She was a courtesan. She gave herself to men for other things, what made this transaction any different?

“What do you want?” She held herself rigidly, her voice icy and distant.

The answer was immediate. He wanted to see her naked on top of him, riding him with abandon. The erotic image tugged the air out of his lungs as he pictured his sun-darkened hands sliding across the lusty curve of a peach-colored hip and thigh. His fingers dug into his arms as he fought to destroy the sudden blast of desire barreling through him.

“One night, chérie.” He clenched his jaw as he realized it might take more than one night to ease his lust for her.

Her gaze slid over him with a scathing look he knew was designed to humiliate him. It didn’t work, but he begrudgingly admitted to himself that if looks could maim, he would be bleeding heavily. A small voice in the back of his head told him it would be no less than he deserved.

She turned her head away from him, a frown marring her features as if she were in deep contemplation. There it was again, that air of vulnerability he found puzzling. Intriguing. Perhaps he’d been judging her unfairly. He crushed the thought. Silence stretched between them for a long moment before she pulled in a deep breath as if reaching a decision. The change in her was instantaneous. The vulnerable woman vanished, replaced by a creature so sensual and enticing, she was breathtaking.

“One night?” Her voice was a low, beguiling whisper that wrapped its way around him with gentle yet relentless persuasion. “No more than that?”

The witch thought to turn the tables on him. She was doing a damn good job of it, too. Tension flowed through him as he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. Experience had taught him to avoid this type of temptation, and yet each passing moment in her presence made it difficult to do so. He hadn’t experienced lust this strong in years.

“One night,” he bit out, not about to admit that he should have asked for more.

“And what is it you want for this one night, monsieur?” Her voice was soft and seductive, but he could still hear a hint of anger behind her words. He forced himself to smile if only to keep her from realizing her attempt to tie him into knots was succeeding. But he refused to give her the upper hand.

“I’m not one for games, Allegra. We both know what I want.”

She stepped forward and brushed her fingertips across his mouth. Her touch was light, almost nonexistent, and yet his entire body grew taut with need. The seductive smile curving her lips signaled her confidence in her ability to tempt him. Slowly, she leaned closer and the heat of her breath warmed his ear.

“You want me,” she whispered.

Instantly his cock was hard as iron. With the grace of one of the Sultan’s dancers, she put several feet between them before facing him again. The moonlight draped its softness over her entire body and he was certain the move was a calculated one. Somehow she knew the pale light would only heighten the sensuality of her figure. Silently, he watched her fingers brush across the side of her neck in a slow stroke. It was the same type of caress his own hand itched to perform.

Lips parted in a small, knowing smile, she closed her eyes and allowed her hand to fondle her skin in a light caress. Mesmerized, he watched her continue the stroke downward to the base of her throat and beyond until two fingers slid into the valley between her full breasts. With a leisurely stroke, she caressed the darkened slit in an up and down movement that had his body howling for release. He dragged in air between his clenched teeth in a soft hiss, and she opened her eyes at the sound.