The goddess of Mavisu

by Rebecca Stratton

  She lay in his arms at last, her hands still about his neck, caressing the smooth golden skin where the dark hair began, and her eyes were softly green, her mouth still tingling erotically from his kisses. Kemal studied her in silence for a while, his dark eyes glowing, then he kissed her mouth lightly, one hand smoothing back the wisps of red-gold hair from her forehead.

  `You remember the customs of the yoruks, bebek?' he asked, and Delia frowned briefly over his meaning, then she laughed a little lightheadedly

  and shook her head.

  'I don't think I remember anything except you,' she confessed, and Kemal shook his head at her in mock despair.

  He glanced across at the camp where, for the moment, their presence was being politely ignored, possibly because they had parked some distance away and it was taken for granted that they wished to remain in their own company. Then he kissed her again with infinite gentleness and looked down at her seriously for a second before he spoke.

  'Sometimes a young man will carry off the girl of his choice, do you not remember?' he asked in a deep, soft voice that played havoc with her already chaotic senses, and she nodded.

  'Yes, I do remember,' she said. 'He carries off the girl and

  'And when they have presumed to have been together for one night,' Kemal finished quietly, `no one objects to their marrying, you remember?'

  'I remember,' Delia agreed huskily, and caught her breath on the sudden erratic beating of her heart.

  Kemal traced the shape of her mouth with one long finger, gently pulling down her lower lip before he kissed her. 'Your uncle, Clifford Aitkin and Sadi Selim, my grandfather, all think that I have driven you to the airport,' he confessed. 'Only Tante Yvette knows yet that I have carried you off, my love.'

  'Kemal?' Delia looked at him for a moment, startled and not quite sure if she fully understood

  him. 'What—what will they think?' she asked, but already knew that whatever he had done she would go along willingly with it because she could not bear to be parted from him again.

  Once more Kemal studied her for a moment before he answered her, his dark eyes deep and fathomless, then he bent his head and his mouth pressed warmly to the small throbbing pulse at the base of her throat. `Do you love me, Delia?' he asked softly as he raised his head again, and he found his answer in her eyes and in the eager arms that drew his head down to her kiss. 'Tame Yvette told me the truth,' he said, moments later. 'I could have taken physical revenge on Clifford Aitkin for his lies, my anger was so strong, but instead I have carried you off, my love, in the manner of the yorfiks!'

  Delia searched his face, briefly anxious again. 'And no one knows where you are?' she asked, and Kemal nodded.

  'No one save my aunt, and she will not betray me, I think.'

  'But—' Delia looked at him uncertainly, 'surely when we go back

  Kemal leaned more closely against her, pressing her back against the seat, his body so warm and vibrant that she shivered at the excitement it invoked in her. It was so difficult to think about anything at all when he was so close.

  'Your uncle would like you to marry Clifford Aitkin,' he suggested, 'and Clifford himself is surely not in favour of your marrying anyone but

  himself, my beloved. My grandfather has a great affection for you and he will accept you into his family if he is honour bound to do so, though his choice would have been a Turkish girl.'

  'Like Suna Kozlu,' Delia suggested, unable to restrain herself, and Kemal shook his head firmly.

  'Not like Suna,' he denied firmly. 'She is too independent by far for the traditional Turkish taste. I love you, my beautiful Delia, and I mean to marry you even against the opposition of your uncle and my grandfather, so that I see myself in much the same position as one of those hot-blooded young yoriiks who has been denied the girl he loves. I can let you go out of my life and do nothing about it, or I can make sure that the opposition is removed —the conclusion of the story is in your hands.'

  Delia gazed at him for a second, wondering for the first time just how strong the opposition was to their love, then she looked out of the window briefly at the nomads' camp. `So you—you kidnapped me?' she said, and played with the idea for a second or two.

  Kemal's big right hand cupped her face, the thumb caressing her soft cheek in sensual persuasion. 'Or we have eloped, bebek,' he said softly. 'It depends upon you.'

  'Does it?' She looked up at him, her eyes soft and glowing. 'Where do we go from here, Kemal?'

  He searched her face for a moment, as if it was not quite the reply he expected. 'Tante Yvette has a friend with a house not far from here,' he told her. 'You will stay in her house tonight, my love.'

  Delia's heart was thudding so hard she could scarcely breathe and she gazed at him for a moment, only half believing this could be happening to her. Then she ran the tip of her tongue nervously over parted lips. 'And you?' she whispered.

  Kemal's eyes glowed darkly for a moment and she held her breath on his answer. Then he leaned down and kissed her mouth lightly, almost teasingly. 'I, my darling,' he told her softly, 'will be staying at the hotel in that last village we passed through—well away from temptation. Unless,' he added with a sudden wolfish smile, 'you wish to follow tradition to the letter?' His laughter mocked the sudden swift warmth that flooded her face and she pursued her bottom lip reproachfully. 'Now, my little temptress,' he demanded close to her ear as he held her close, 'have I kidnapped you? Shall I take you to the airport after all? Or have we eloped in the traditional way and you will marry me?'

  Delia stirred contentedly in his arms, her voice muffled when she gave him her answer. 'I like to follow tradition,' she said.