Her hands fisted at his chest, burrowing into his shirt.
“Jinan,” he said louder and with more firmness. He needed to get fluids into her. When she was filled with water and broth, he’d let her sleep as the doctor ordered.
“Amir?”
Her voice came out as a croak, not that he expected it to be any better since they’d left his ship. He almost hadn’t caught whom she asked after until she said it again. It made jealousy flare in his stomach. Why was it always Amir she called after? And who the hell was Jonathan? That was the last name she’d whispered before sleep had overwhelmed her earlier. He couldn’t remember her husband’s name, but he did know it hadn’t been Jonathan.
Still, it was another man she called after. Had Griffin not shown her how gentle and kind he was over the past few months? Did she think Amir so kind when he owned and auctioned his women off as no better than slaves? There was no kindness in reducing women to harlots.
Nor was kidnapping her to make her see his reason a kindness, he admonished.
He clenched his jaw and swallowed his pride. In time, she’d see how much more he had to offer. He vowed he’d prove it to her. “No. Amir’s not here.”
He placed a cool glass to her lips. She took it in small mouthfuls.
She pushed the glass from her when she’d had her fill. Her eyes remained shut. He knew she suffered a headache of massive proportions—a nasty side effect of the opiate. What she needed was to get some broth in her. Two days without food and fevers ravaging her body was too long.
With less of a catch in her voice, she asked, “Where is Amir?”
So she still played the princess speaking her Persian tongue. No more games, he was bloody well sick of games.
“Jinan”—he wrapped his hand around hers and held tight—“you well know Amir isn’t here. You are at my villa.”
She looked at him through squinted eyes for a long moment. He’d closed all the curtains in here so she wouldn’t be pained by the midmorning light. Whatever comfort she asked for, he’d give her. To an extent, of course.
“Where is your villa, exactly?”
Her fingers rose to her own face. Griffin hated to admit it, but he was used to the scrap of silk covering her features. It didn’t seem important to remove it when he knew damn well who she was. She sighed in what he could only imagine was relief when her fingers found the cloth still tightly secured through her knotted hair. “Has anyone else seen me?”
“No. I’ve kept your veil in place. Here. Drink this, it’s broth. It will give you some of your strength back.”
He brought the warm bowl up in his free hand. She shook her head, refusing.
“If I leave it on the table here, and give you a moment to collect yourself, will you drink it?”
She only stared at him through narrowed, sleepy eyes. “You need something nourishing, you were sick on the trip here.”
“The boat—”
“Yes, we came in my clipper. We only traveled for a couple days.”
“I cannot travel by boat.”
“I’m well aware of that.” He gave her a small, reassuring smile. “So we will start with light fare. It’s a celery-based broth, not meat. I don’t know if you even eat meat.” With a gentle squeeze to her hands he stood from the bed. “Please drink the broth. You’ve had me worried, and I just want to know you are on the mend. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He didn’t go much farther than the sitting room of his apartment. He couldn’t leave her for long, he was sure she’d try to escape. And in her state, that could be dangerous. He paced back and forth, his hand tangling in his hair as he silently cursed himself for being all kinds of a fool.
What was he going to do with her? Damn it, why did the first words out of her mouth have to be her owner’s name, and his whereabouts?
He went into the bathing room. A maid sat at the side filling the tub. He wanted to sink into the inviting water with Jinan, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate that sort of attention right now. He so badly wanted to hold her, reassure himself that she was well.
The maid ducked her head. “It’ll be ready in a minute, my lord.”
He backed out of the room and paced the sitting room again. The dull thud of the bowl told him Jinan was done, and he went into the bedchamber to check on her.
She sat up without the support of the pillows. She hadn’t bothered to cover her bared skin. The silk of her scarves had shifted to cover the naked flesh between her thighs. It pleased him that she wasn’t a skittish miss. That she could sit baring her body so freely. And it made him hot and aroused at a most inconvenient time. Did she tempt him purposely? Or was he that much of a cad? Oh, how he knew the answer to the second question.
She pointed at the curtain-covered window. “Where have you brought me?”
Still in Persian—not that he expected otherwise.
“We are in Italy.” He leaned against the chaise off to the side of his bed, giving her space but not too much.
She cocked her head to the side in question. “Italy? What did you do to me?”
“Laudanum.”
“Laudanum,” she repeated. The English word rolled off her tongue with the ease and intonation only an English woman would use. “You must take me back to Amir.”
He frowned. He had to remember to be patient. It was most certainly a shock for her to find out she’d been stolen away from the only home she’d known for God knew how long.
“I’m afraid I cannot do that.”
“You must. He will find me here, then he will kill you.”
He wasn’t buying that excuse. Did she think to frighten him into releasing her? Patience, he reminded himself. “He doesn’t know where here is, Jinan.”
“He will find me,” she said with a hint of defiance. “We can never leave the palace.”
“You are free now. You never have to go back to him.” He moved to the bed, perching himself on the edge.
All the air seemed to escape her lungs on a rushed exhale. Quicker than he thought she could move in her weakened state, she threw herself at his feet on the floor. “Please. You must take me back. Before it is too late.”
She stayed on her knees with her hands gripping one of his shoes as she pleaded.
“Jinan,” he said, trying to gently remove his foot from her hold. She only grasped it tighter.
“You must take me back. Amir will be very angry. You don’t know what you’ve done. You can’t possibly understand.”
“You are free, Jinan. He won’t find you. I won’t let him find you, do you hear me?”
“You don’t understand. I cannot stay here.” He heard the tears in her voice now. What had Amir ever done to make her fear leaving the island so much? At least it was Amir that made her cry, not him. At least not yet.
“Jinan”—he hooked his hands under her arms and hauled her up to stand in front of him—“stop this line of questioning. I’ll not take you back. I can’t.”
Tears trailed down her face, wetting the veil so it stuck to her trembling lips. “Take me back before Amir does not forgive me. Take me back before it is too late.”
Maybe it was the defeated look in her eyes. Maybe it was the tears flowing so freely down her face. Maybe it was his damned idiotic adoration for her. Whatever it was, he couldn’t stand to see her so torn and scared of her owner, who kept whores aplenty. She was safe here. And if there was one thing he could prove to her, it was that no harm would ever befall her under his protection.
“I’m sorry you are upset.”
“You are not. You can’t possibly understand the wrong you’ve committed.”
“Then explain it to me.”
She looked at him for some minutes, wiping the back of her hand against her cheek to remove the wash of tears. “You’ve taken me from the only thing that has ever mattered to me. You’ve left my son behind.”
Had he not been holding her still, she would have crumpled to the ground with the admission. Had he not been sittin
g, he probably would have gone down with her weight. A son. He’d bloody well screwed this up. How was it she had never mentioned the child before now?
“Your son?”
“You must bring me back to him.”
“It’s too late.” He watched tears wash down her face. “I’m so sorry. Why did you not tell me sooner?”
“How could I? We had a three-month contract. There was no reason to tell you.”
“What of the things I shared with you? Did it not occur to you that I could help both you and your son get out of the harem?”
He set her on the bed beside him and took to pacing the floor. Shitfire. What had he done? This was a disaster. This was unexpected. Brushing his hands roughly through his hair, he tried to think. What was he going to do? Jinan still cried, although her sobs were silent as she watched him pace to and fro with an expectant look in her sorrowful eyes.
“I would assume this is a younger child we are talking about?”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry. God, Jinan. I don’t know what else to say. I will find a way to fix this.” Which meant facing the man he’d stolen property; although Griffin did not think of Jinan as property.
He raked his hand through his hair again. “Come, we’ll get you washed. We can’t do anything right now. You are tired and worn from the trip here. You need sleep and food so your body can heal from the ordeal. I need to rest, too. I haven’t since you’ve fallen ill, and I’m afraid I’ll fall over from exhaustion soon. We’ll take care of your son as soon as we are both fit to.”
“These things are unimportant. You must take me home.”
“I can do nothing about it right now, Jinan. Had you been more forthcoming with your circumstances, I would have moved heaven and earth to take your son out of there with you. Do not test my temper right now.”
Because he was in a right fit. He wanted to hit something. Wanted to release some rage from such a simple yet stupid act. Had he listened to his gut instead of his prick, this wouldn’t be a problem. No, he’d not been thinking with his cock, he’d been thinking with his heart when all along she didn’t give a damn about him. Certainly not enough to tell him she had a child.
She came to her feet and pushed her finger into his chest. “This is your fault. How dare you do something so despicable, so awful to me! You are a beast of a man and you need to right this immediately!”
Temper finally getting the better of him, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bath. He’d had enough of her desires for Amir, and her equal dislike for himself. She should be thanking him! The man who had saved her from a life of prostitution. Had she given him more to go on, he would have removed her son, too. What part of that promise did she not understand?
“You won’t be going anywhere right now, Jinan.” His next words took him more by surprise than her. “If you won’t listen to reason, then hear me now. You belong to me. Not Amir. Me! I’ll find a way to get your son out of the harem. Trust me, please.”
She hissed in a breath as he set her on her feet on the tiled floor of the bathing room. She looked at the water in the tub with wide eyes.
“The water is warm,” he offered in apology. Though it was going to take more than a warm bath to apologize for what he’d done. Goddamn it. How was he going to get the child out of there? It must be Amir’s because she’d been careful about preparing her body to avoid pregnancy the whole time he’d been with her.
Her head whipped up and she stared at him with terror. What was the problem now? She had never had a problem bathing in front of him before. She’d done it often enough in the public bathhouse on the island.
She tried to make a dash past him, but his arms came around her, lifted her, and before he could temper his fury, he dumped her into the water. She needed to wash off the smell of sickness and sweat. It was that simple. She landed with a splash. The water spilled over the rim and even more spilled as she tried to scramble out of the tub.
It infuriated him that she insisted on this disobedience, when he did nothing more than try to help her.
“Jinan, I’m a patient man. But you are testing my tolerance to the utmost.”
“It is standing. I cannot be in standing water.” Her voice was high-pitched, scared.
He held her down and dumped water over her head with the pitcher. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Hold still or I will join you in there.”
“You do not understand anything.” She flung her arms out, giving him a good thumping on his chest, knocking some of the air out of his lungs. “Stop this!”
He paused, gazing down at her. She wasted no time in pulling herself out of the tub to stand beside him on the marble floor, dripping everywhere. She was breathing heavily, one hand holding on to the lip of the tub as she panted out, “This is bad luck. I do not bathe in standing water. You have ruined everything in my life today. Leave me be.”
He knew it for the truth so said nothing, just ground his teeth together and gave her a long look. Could she be so immersed in Turkish culture and the life of the harem in general that she’d forgotten what it was like to be English? He stood, his pants and shirt sopping wet, both sticking uncomfortably to his legs and arms.
She must have read anger instead of frustration in his stance because she backed up until her back was firm against the wall. “Send me a slave, and I will do as you wish.”
“There are no slaves here, Jinan.” He closed his eyes for a brief second and took a calming breath. “I know you know this. You are no longer a slave. Do you understand me? I won’t have you playing these games now that you aren’t in the palace.”
“There is nothing to understand. You will take me back to Amir once I can travel by boat again. I will bathe, and you will go pen a note. If you will please send me someone to help with the bathing.”
Griffin pursed his lips. There was a time to argue, and a time to cede what wasn’t important. He would do as she asked. Straightening his clothes, he gave her a slight bow, then left the bathroom, making sure to close the door firmly behind him. The hinge on the door creaked, so the second she opened it, he would know.
He went and changed his trousers. That gave them both some time to calm their tempers.
Then he went about finding help for Jinan. A maid was bound to walk by his room sooner or later, so he stuck his head out to see who happened in this direction. There wasn’t a chance of him leaving Jinan alone, not yet anyway.
“Donata, come here, I have a task for you.” He motioned the maid into his suite. She came quickly forward and had fresh linens in hand. Perfect.
“My lord.” She curtsied before walking through the door he opened wide for her entry.
He wondered if she already knew that a lady of questionable values occupied his chamber. The butler had been present when Griffin had carried in Jinan.
“I require your attention in the bath. Jinan speaks no Italian that I know of. She needs someone to help her with her hair and bath, and well”—he shook his head, not sure if he could explain what Jinan’s needs were—“you will see.”
When he opened the door to the bathroom, Jinan sat on a bench opposite the bathtub, staring at the water as though it would jump out and pull her under at any moment. The maid’s inward hiss told him she hadn’t yet heard about his guest. Or, at least, the strange overall appearance of said guest.
“Jinan,” he said, switching back to English, “this is Donata. She will help you with whatever you need.”
Griffin turned back to the maid and spoke in Italian. “Jinan cannot bathe in standing water. She’ll not accept help from a man. Some strange custom of hers, I’m sure. So, she requires your help.” He looked over to Jinan again, her fists clenched in her lap, her eyes narrowed in resentment. “Drain the tub for her, so she doesn’t fear it any more than I’ve given her reason to.”
Jinan looked up before he could retreat. “This woman is to help me? She does not look like a personal attendant. She will not understand my words o
r the ways of my people.”
“Tell me what you need, and I will relay your message before I leave. She’ll be most obliging. Besides, I think it is better she does not speak a common language with you. I’m sorry, Jinan, I didn’t mean to frighten you by tossing you in. I have grown weary after such a long trip and after hearing the news you waited so long to enlighten me with. Though I don’t deserve it, I beg your forgiveness.”
Jinan stood there staring at him a moment, gave one succinct nod, and then pointed to the bathtub. “It must be drained.”
“I have told her as much. Do you need help removing your scarves?” He looked pointedly down to her bared belly and what he could see of her curvaceous hips.
“No,” she said, defiance making her voice harsh as she pulled a thread that held the delicate silk together.
No wonder he couldn’t find the knot that bound it around her hips. It pooled in a silken mass of blue waves at her feet. She stood there naked as a babe, her henna markings clearly visible around her lower legs, the rust-colored paint that stained her mound and nipples further attesting to her status as a lady of pleasure. Had he been in a better mood, he would have smiled at Jinan’s brazenness. She only demonstrated the willfulness she had kept under rein all these months.
He had a feeling she’d rebel against him at every given opportunity. God, he needed to sleep. Then he’d be able to better deal with her and process everything that had happened in the last few days.
She made no move to take down her veil. He turned to Donata. “She will require help with her hair.” Skimming his gaze down the front of Jinan, he let the delectable image she presented sink into his mind. He’d sleep with that image in mind tonight. “I’m sure you two can figure things out,” he said with a careless shrug.
He left them, clicking the door softly shut in his wake.
So, she was a fighter.
He had the best of intentions where she was concerned. He’d convince her of those good intentions when they both had rested and were of clearer mind.
While he figured out a way to get her son out of the harem, how was he to convince her she was, indeed, free? Convince her she was no longer just a mistress? Perhaps he should make it clear he wished them to spend the rest of their days together. Maybe then, she’d change her tune. Hard to say, since she never gave him reason to believe this was, in fact, something she might want.
The Surrender of a Lady Page 17