Instead he clasped her hand in his. “Ready?”
She nodded, and they began walking toward the alabaster palace.
“It’s beautiful,” Leanna whispered, “but I keep wondering who lives there. The Wizard…or the Wicked Witch?”
It was a good question. Cam could only hope the answer would be the one they needed.
The palace gates released at a touch. A flagstone path led to wide marble steps that ended at a pair of huge bronze doors.
“Cam?” Leanna whispered. “Where is everybody?”
The bronze doors swung slowly open.
“Get behind me,” Cam said sharply, but the figure that appeared was far from threatening. It was a woman, slender and silver-haired, dressed in a flowing white robe. She made a deep curtsy, then rose, steepled her fingers and touched them to her forehead.
“Welcome, my lord.”
Her voice was soft, her English clear and only lightly accented.
Cam squeezed Leanna’s hand as he drew her forward. “What is this place?”
“You have arrived at the Palace of the Moon, my lord.” The woman smiled at Leanna. “And my lady. Welcome to you, too. You have had a long journey.”
“Thank you.” Leanna’s voice was strong but her hand trembled in Cam’s. He put his arm around her and drew her close.
“I am called Shalla.”
“Shalla,” Cam said politely. “You seem to have been expecting us.”
The woman gave a tinkling laugh. “Forgive me, sir. I should have realized you would have questions. Yes, we expected you. Our watchers in the turrets saw you approach. Besides, we are always prepared for the arrival of weary travelers. We are a sacred place, a haven between the dangerous lands of the western desert and the outer world.”
It was a good story, maybe even a true one. Cam knew that the myths and legends of antiquity were often grounded in reality.
“No one can come here to do evil, lord, unless that person is willing to bring down the vengeance of the gods.”
“We’re happy to hear it.”
Shalla gestured to the open doors. “Please, come in. I will show you to your rooms. You can bathe and rest while your dinner is prepared.”
Cam heard Salome sigh. It was the softest of sounds, but it held a world of longing. He couldn’t ask her to keep going without food and rest. If nothing else, they could stay here long enough for her to recover from their forced march—and for him to try and contact the outside world.
He nodded, and they followed Shalla into the great entry hall of the Palace of the Moon.
Half a dozen steps inside, Salome stopped and stared in amazement. “Wow,” she said softly.
She was right. Wow just about covered it. The only time Cam had been in a hall this large, he was twelve years old on a field trip to a museum.
The floor was black marble and shimmered with light pouring down from an open gold dome dozens of feet over their heads. Moorish arches stretched deep into the vast interior. A curved staircase climbed toward the second floor.
The palace was spectacular, a fantasy of color and texture, like something out of the Arabian Nights.
It was the kind of place a man brought a woman for days and nights of pleasure. He looked at Salome. Even now, her face smudged with dirt, her clothing in tatters, exhaustion burning like fire in her eyes, she was as beautiful as a dream.
How many other men had looked at her and thought the same thing?
And why in hell should it matter? He didn’t give a damn who she’d been with or who she’d sold herself to. He hadn’t sought out this place for some romantic fantasy. They’d stumbled across it out of sheer luck, and they’d make the most of their time here.
They needed rest. Food. Supplies. Most of all, he needed a plan that would get them back to civilization…
Cam’s mouth thinned.
Who was he kidding? What he needed most was Salome, moving under him in bed. Her legs, wrapped around his hips. Her body, his for the tak—
“My lord? If you would follow me, please?”
Cam blinked. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
This had to stop, he thought grimly, as they followed Shalla up the stairs. Salome was driving him crazy, and he didn’t like it. Distraction was the last thing a man needed in this kind of situation.
There was only one way to solve the problem.
And the sooner it happened, the better.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHALLA led them to a suite.
After two days in a filthy cell and a night trudging across the desert, Leanna would have seen paradise in anything with four clean walls and a window.
This looked like the top contender for Romantic Hideaway of the Year.
“Oh my,” she breathed.
Cam took her hand as they strolled from room to room. “You took the words right out of my mouth, darling.”
Darling? She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. He smiled, brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. The look he flashed her was sharp. Don’t argue with me, it said. Just go along with whatever I say.
The sitting room was elegant, bright with crystal vases and flowers. The bedroom’s focal point was a massive bed draped in crimson and cream silk. Even the bathroom was spectacular, with frescoed walls, a white marble floor, golden swan fittings…and a sunken, black marble tub the size of a small lake.
“I hope this is to your liking, my lord.”
Cam nodded, as if he’d expected to find such luxury in the tail end of nowhere.
“It’s fine, thank you.”
Leanna cleared her throat. “Actually…actually, I was wondering if there was a second bedroom somewhere in—”
Cam’s fingers tightened on hers. “It’s all right, love. I suspect Shalla has already figured out our secret.”
She blinked at him. “Our—”
“I’m sure we’re not the first lovers to elope and find shelter here. Isn’t that right, Shalla?”
The silver-haired woman smiled. “You are correct, lord, and we are delighted by your presence. I will, of course, arrange for clothing and food to be brought to you.”
“My lady and I are overwhelmed by your generosity. Isn’t that right, darling?”
Only a fool would have disagreed. “Overwhelmed,” Leanna replied.
Cam’s smile disappeared as soon as he shut the door. “Alone at last,” he said pleasantly, but his eyes were still filled with warning.
“Lovers? Eloping lovers? Are you cra—”
She gasped as he gathered her into his arms and kissed her. “Not another word,” he whispered, his mouth against hers, “until I check things out.”
“You mean, you think—” She bit her lip. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” His smile was glacial. “Oh.”
She followed him from room to room, watched him examining the furniture, the lamps, even the moldings until he was satisfied.
“No bugs. No cameras. We’re okay.”
“You think Shalla lied about this being a sanctuary?”
“I think we’d be fools to take anything for granted.”
“You’re right. I should have thought of… What are you doing?”
“Getting undressed. I want a bath.”
“Well, yes. So do I. But…”
“But,” he said calmly, “you want to go first.” He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No problem, Salome. The tub’s more than big enough for two.”
“I am not taking a bath with…” Her breath caught. He was tugging his shirt free of his jeans. “Must you do that?”
“Do what?” He spoke calmly, but there was a tightness in his words.
“Get undressed as if I weren’t here. It’s—it’s not polite.”
“Give me a break, baby. I’ve had you beneath me with my hand between your legs. You really think I’m going to believe the sight of me taking my clothes off is too much for a lady like you?”
Her face blazed. “You’re disgusting!”
&
nbsp; She was right. He was going out of his way to offend her, and he was damned if he knew why…unless it was because he’d had it with her act, the way she pretended to be innocent when it suited her, then going wild in his arms when that seemed a better choice.
There was only one way to settle the tension between them, and he’d be damned if she was going to talk her way out of it.
“Come on,” he said as he dumped his T-shirt on the floor. “Unbutton that shirt and…” His eyebrows drew together. She was staring at his left arm. “It’s a tattoo. An eagle. Didn’t you notice it before?”
Her eyes flew to his. “No.”
“Take a closer look. It won’t bite.” A sexy smile angled across his mouth. “I might, but if I did, you’d like it.”
He strolled toward her, deliberately flexing his arm so she could see the tattoo on his bicep in fuller detail. Naked to the waist, he was a magnificent sight.
Completely, gloriously male.
The eagle, wings spread, talons extended, golden eyes blazing, suited him to perfection.
“Well?” His voice was husky. “What do you think?”
Leanna tore her gaze from his and stared at the tattoo again. The eagle was a beautiful, deadly-efficient predator. Seeing it, she suddenly knew how its prey would feel as it swept down from the sky, the bone-deep realization that what came next was inevitable, that nothing in life could ever have as much meaning as being chosen by him, taken by him…
“Salome.”
She jerked her head up. The look on Cam’s face was as primitive as the pounding of her blood. He dropped the shirt, took a step forward, speared the fingers of one hand deep into her hair, tilted her head up and kissed her.
“No,” she whispered, but she was already lifting herself to him, winding her arms around his neck, parting his lips so he could slip his tongue into her mouth.
“Like that,” he said, bringing her closer, moving against her so she could feel how much he wanted her. “Just like that.”
Her head fell back and he dipped his head and kissed the long line of her throat, nipped at the tender flesh, then soothed the tiny wound with a kiss.
Cam framed her face with his hands. Took tiny, biting kisses of her willing mouth. Swept his hands down her arms, then gathered her into a fierce embrace.
“Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me, Salome. Tell me this is what you’ve waited for.”
Leanna trembled. He was right. She wanted him. Wanted this. Had wanted it from his first caress. He was her knight, and she was—
She was his Salome.
That was the woman he wanted. A seductress who lived for the pleasure of the flesh, who could play the game with him and never look back.
Was that the kind of man she wanted to take her virginity?
“No. Cam.” She twisted against him, but he didn’t stop. His hands were under her shirt, cupping her backside, lifting her, lifting her… “Stop it,” she said, her voice sharp with panic. “I don’t want to do this!”
At first, she thought he hadn’t heard her, or didn’t want to hear her. Then, after what seemed a long, long time, his arms dropped to his sides.
“You play dangerous games, Salome.”
His eyes were as cold and hard as green glass. For the first time since he’d tossed her out of the Hummer, Leanna felt a curl of fear in her belly, but she knew better than to show it.
If you weren’t strong enough to fight off an eagle’s attack, you needed the courage to face it.
“I made a mistake.”
“Damned right, you did.”
“I realized that—that I didn’t want to do this. I want—”
She cried out as he grasped her wrist and jerked her arm behind her back.
“I know exactly what you want,” he growled. “Me, crawling up the wall because you’ve teased me so long my brain’s turned to mush.”
“You’re wrong!And you’re hurting me.” Desperately, she tried to wrench free. “Let me go! If you don’t—”
“What? You’ll scream?” He laughed. “No matter what Shalla hears coming from this room, she won’t do a thing. Nothing’s changed in this part of the world in a thousand years, Salome. Mention women’s rights around here, you’ll draw a blank look.” His smile faded; he lowered his head until their faces were inches apart. “I’m in charge. You’re disposable. Got that?”
Salome’s face had lost all its color. She was trying her best to stand up to him but she was shaking like a leaf.
Hell, he thought, and let go of her with an exaggerated lifting of his hands, as if he’d just realized he was touching something he’d never intended to touch.
“I’m finished with this crap, Salome. Take your bath, do whatever the hell you want. Just be sure you keep away from me because if you try playing games again, I promise you, I’ll win.”
A sob burst from her throat as she flew past him.
He almost laughed.
Anybody watching this little scene would have thought she was a virgin running for her life. And that he, without question, was the villain.
The bathroom door slammed. The bolt shot home, loud as the crack of a rifle. Who gave a damn? It was a meaningless gesture anyway. Did she really think a lock would protect her if he changed his mind?
Cam folded his arms and glared at the door.
How come he couldn’t hear the water running in the tub? Because, he thought grimly, because she was probably leaning against the wall, laughing now that he’d tumbled for her latest routine.
She’d been turning him on and off like a machine since he’d first set eyes on her.
A muscle knotted in his jaw.
And he’d been idiot enough to let her do it.
He swung away from the locked door, paced the bedroom like a tiger trapped in a cage. Too bad he hadn’t been keeping score. By now, it was probably zero for the home team and one hundred for hers.
Still no sound of running water. She was in there, laughing at her latest victory and he was out here, leaving footprints in the carpet.
But it would get old, after a while. She’d tire of enjoying herself at his expense. She’d turn on the water and take off her tattered clothes. The shirt. Then the thong. She’d pin up that silken mass of hair that tumbled in golden waves over her breasts.
Suddenly the room seemed airless.
If he believed the sultan, he’d saved her pretty neck from the chopping block. He’d gotten her out of Baslaam. And how did she show her thanks?
He glared at the locked door.
By teasing him until he was as desperate as a teenage boy with one hand on a Playmate centerfold and the other on his—
Cam roared with rage and slammed his shoulder into the door. Once. Twice.
The wood gave way and he burst into the room.
Leanna came at him like a wildcat. He feinted. Ducked. Grunted as she caught him in the gut with an elbow. She was quick and strong and maybe she could have fought another man off…
But not him.
He was crazed with anger, with frustration, with needing what he had been too long denied. In some dark recess of his mind, he knew he’d crossed that thin line between civilization and the jungle but he didn’t care.
Nothing would stop him from finishing what she had started.
“I’ll kill you!” she panted. “So help me God, you do this and I’ll—”
He caught her wrists in one hand, pinned them above her head and used his body to jam her against the wall. He plunged a hand into her hair, wound a thick length of it around his fist and took her mouth with his, kissing her mercilessly, nipping her tender flesh, thrusting his tongue between her lips when she gasped for breath.
She fought hard, sank her teeth into his bottom lip and drew blood, but it didn’t matter. Tonight, at last, he was going to get what she’d promised.
“Bastard,” she hissed. “No good, rotten ba—”
She cried out as he pushed his knee between her thighs, lifting her off the floor so that the
long, thick ridge of his erection pressed against the female heart of her.
“Remember what I asked you that first time? I’m asking it again. How do you want this? I can make it good for you, or I can take you hard and fast, zip up and walk away.”
A shudder raced the length of her body. “Oh, God! Cameron—Cameron…”
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