Sheik

by Mason, Connie

  Her words were met with silence. The messenger was gone.

  The next day passed far too slowly for Zara’s liking. She tried to keep busy but found herself staring at the high walls surrounding Paradise far too often. Where was her father now? she wondered. Her heart leaped into her throat when Jamal appeared and asked to have his horse saddled. He and Haroun were going hunting in the mountains.

  Zara’s first thought was that they would find her father. Then she chided herself for thinking such a thing possible. Youssef was too smart to be caught. He knew the mountains well and was as wily as a fox. Jamal would never find him.

  Tonight she would be with her people and never have to see Jamal again. Somehow that thought was not as comforting as she’d expected.

  Jamal’s mind wasn’t on hunting. His thoughts were consumed by the stubborn Berber vixen who fought tooth and nail to stay out of his bed. Was he so repulsive then? His concubines didn’t think so.

  “If your mind isn’t on hunting, Jamal, we are wasting our time out here,” Haroun commented dryly.

  “I needed to get away, my friend,” Jamal said testily. “As you have noticed, I’ve not been in the best of moods of late.”

  “Force the witch to your bed, Jamal,” Haroun advised. “You have been patient longer than most men in your place would be. Once you’ve feasted on Zara’s sweet flesh, you can turn your mind to more important matters. It isn’t like you to neglect your concubines. Had I a woman like Saha to pleasure me, I might never leave my bed.”

  Jamal grew thoughtful. “You covet Saha, my friend?”

  “Forgive me, my lord, I meant no disrespect. It is wrong of me to desire that which is not mine. I accept whatever punishment you deem proper.”

  “We have been together a long time, Haroun. I would not dream of punishing you for so minor an offense. Saha is a troublesome baggage who needs a firmer hand than mine to control her.”

  Haroun grinned. “I would tame her with gentle but unyielding patience were she mine.”

  “Why have you never married, Haroun?” Jamal asked curiously.

  Haroun flushed and looked away. He didn’t dare tell Jamal he could not marry as long as he coveted Saha so fiercely. “I have yet to meet a woman I wish to marry,” he said at length.

  Jamal let the subject drop. “Perhaps you’re right, I’m not in the mood for hunting. Let us return.”

  Suddenly Haroun reined his mount to a halt. “My lord, look! The remains of a campfire, a recent one. Who do you suppose travels this way?”

  “Caravans usually don’t stray so far off their normal paths,” Jamal mused as he dismounted to study the tracks visible in the sandy soil, “yet there are camel tracks. What do you make of it, Haroun?”

  “The camels were not carrying heavy burdens, my lord,” Haroun said, kneeling for a closer look at the tracks. “The hoof prints are smaller than those of the camels normally used to carry heavy burdens.

  “Racing camels,” Haroun and Jamal said, coming to the same conclusion at the same time.

  “Berber racing camels,” Jamal clarified. “And they are much too close to Paradise for comfort.”

  “Do you suppose Youssef comes for his daughter?”

  “’Tis my thought exactly. There have been no raids upon the sultan’s caravans since Zara’s capture. I received a missive from Ishmail just yesterday, thanking me for convincing him to spare the life of the cadi’s daughter. He is pleased with Youssef’s restraint since his daughter’s capture.”

  “We must prepare for a rescue attempt by Youssef. I will alert the guards and put out extra watches.”

  “Capturing Youssef will certainly please the sultan,” Jamal said. Yet even as he spoke the words, he imagined Zara’s devastation should her father end up as the sultan’s prisoner.

  “I suggest you move Zara back to the harem,” Haroun said. “You don’t want to make it easy for Youssef to find her.”

  Jamal gave the suggestion considerable thought before rejecting it. “Zara will remain in the stables. Moving her now might alert Youssef to the fact that we know of his scheme. Youssef will find a welcome party waiting for him when he attempts a rescue. We have plans to make, my friend. Plans that must be kept secret from Zara. The stable slaves need to be warned to keep out of sight tonight no matter what happens.”

  Zara noted Jamal’s return with apprehension. He and Haroun had bagged no game, which seemed unusual in an area abounding with wild animals. Nothing seemed amiss, so she assumed that her father had remained safely hidden during the sheik’s foray into the mountains. She saw Jamal and Haroun speaking quietly to Ahmed and chafed with curiosity. There was no reason, however, for them to suspect a rescue attempt by her father tonight.

  Night came too slowly, but when it finally arrived, Zara’s excitement escalated. So as not to raise suspicion, she crept into her stall at her usual time and feigned sleep. Fearing to close her eyes lest she fall asleep, she stared into the darkness, anticipating a sweet reunion with her father.

  Zara did not hear the soft whisper of nearly silent footsteps as Jamal and Haroun entered the stables and melted into the shadows. Guards were stationed beneath the walls, at various sites near the gate and outside the stables. These precautions were to be observed nightly, until Youssef appeared. Jamal had a gut feeling it would be tonight.

  The Blue Men slipped over the walls as silent as wraiths, nearly invisible in the blue-black darkness of night. Jamal watched from the shadows as they hit the ground and crept toward the stables. He counted six of them. Obviously they meant to slip in and out of the compound without creating a disturbance. It was a daring rescue attempt, albeit one doomed to failure.

  “They’re coming,” Haroun whispered into Jamal’s ear. “Give the signal and my men will make short work of them.”

  “Nay, we do not yet know which is Youssef. If he is among them, I want him alive.”

  Jamal and Haroun sank deeper into the shadows as one shadowy figure crept into the stables. The other Blue Men remained watchful just outside the entrance, unaware that they were under surveillance.

  Zara heard a whisper of sound and sprang to her feet. “Father, is that you?”

  “Aye, daughter, ’tis I. We must leave quickly.” Youssef pulled a blue robe from beneath his clothing and handed it to her. “Put this on. You’ll be less conspicuous in the moonlight.”

  When the blue robe was in place, Youssef said, “Take my hand, we will leave together.”

  Zara placed her trembling hand trustingly in her father’s.

  “That foul beast hasn’t hurt you, has he? My spy said you appeared well.”

  “I’m unharmed,” Zara assured him. “I’ll be better once I leave this accursed place. We must go quietly; there are others sleeping in the stables.”

  They moved toward the door, guided by a sliver of moonlight. Zara’s hopes soared. Freedom was within sight. They were going to make it! They had but to negotiate the short distance to the wall and use the ropes that had been lowered to hoist themselves up and over to the other side.

  A voice echoed in the darkness, issuing a crisp order. “Now!” Immediately a dozen armed men rushed from their hiding places to challenge the Blue Men, cutting off their escape.

  “Nay!” Zara cried. “We’ve been betrayed!”

  “’Tis no betrayal, sweet vixen,” Jamal said, stepping out of the shadows.

  Youssef sheltered Zara behind him, facing Jamal squarely. “Let my daughter go, Sheik Jamal. You have me. You no longer need Zara.”

  “You are wrong, Youssef, I do need Zara. You can’t imagine how desperately I need her. As for you, my fine bandit, the sultan has plans for you. Your fate is in his hands now.”

  “Nay!” Zara cried, stepping out from behind her father. “Would you have my father’s death upon your conscience?”

  “Youssef has broken the law, Zara. Now he must pay.”

  “All the Blue Men have been rounded up, my lord,” Haroun reported. “Do you want them executed imme
diately?”

  Zara gave a strangled cry and clung to her father.

  “Nay,” Jamal said, “lock them in an empty storage room until I decide what’s to be done with them. ’Tis the sultan’s right to dictate punishment.”

  “Move,” Haroun said, prodding Youssef with the tip of his scimitar.

  Zara’s chin rose stubbornly. “I will go with them.”

  “Nay, you will not,” Jamal said with quiet authority. When Zara ignored him and tried to follow her father, Jamal grasped her arm, pulling her toward the house. “You, my lovely Berber warrior, will stay where I can keep an eye on you.”

  He dragged her through the inner courtyard and into his chamber.

  “Is all well, my lord?” Hammet emerged from the shadows holding an oil lamp that he had just lit in anticipation of Jamal’s return. He set it down on the table and turned his gaze to Zara.

  “Extremely well, Hammet. Youssef has been captured.”

  “Shall I take this … er … rather smelly person to the harem, master?”

  “I’m sorry the smell of horse dung offends you, Hammet,” Zara said sweetly, “but I find the scent far more pleasing than the stench of your master’s chamber.”

  “Shall I fetch the bastinado?” Hammet asked, startled by Zara’s defiance.

  “Not just yet, Hammet,” Jamal said, sending Zara a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “Tonight Zara will share my bath and my bed. You may seek your own bed.”

  “Are you sure you won’t need my help?” Hammet asked, reluctant to leave his master at the mercy of the Berber vixen.

  “I can manage, thank you. It will take more than a razor-tongued female to do me harm.”

  Hammet left reluctantly. Once he was gone, Zara rounded on Jamal. “What are you going to do to my father?”

  “Your father is a bandit. The sultan, not I, will be his executioner.” That said, he pushed her toward a slatted partition at the far end of the room. “Come along, you are long overdue for a bath.”

  Jamal pushed her behind the partition and Zara found herself in a hammam no less elegant but on a smaller scale than the one in the harem. The huge sunken tub was surrounded by cushions and couches and gleaming white tiles.

  “Take off your clothes. You must bathe if you are to sleep in my bed.”

  “I’d prefer to sleep on the floor,” Zara argued. “We have struck a bargain, remember?”

  Jamal gave her a smile that was far from comforting. “Things have changed. Your father is my prisoner now.”

  “Nothing has changed!” Zara charged.

  “We’ll discuss it later. Do as I say. Undress and get into the bath. There’s soap in the jar next to the tub.”

  Muttering to herself, Zara undressed quickly and sank into the tub. The water was warm and felt delicious against her skin as she immersed herself to her neck. She closed her eyes and laid her head back against the rim, unable to restrain the sigh that slipped past her lips.

  She sensed him watching her, felt his burning gaze upon her. The piercing heat seared her every place it touched. He made no move toward her, just stood there watching.

  She opened her eyes and stared back at him, startled by the intensity of his desire. “Must you watch?”

  He did not answer as he turned abruptly and returned to his bed chamber. He was back seconds later with a caftan. “When you’ve finished your bath, put this on and come to bed. You’re safe with me tonight, or what’s left of it. Neither of us would enjoy the experience. You’re too worried about your rather.”

  The charged atmosphere quickly cooled after Jamal left her to enjoy her bath in private. As Zara soaped and rinsed her body, then tackled her hair, her thoughts grew dark and dismal. What would become of her father? Would he be put to death by the sultan? What could she do to keep Jamal from releasing her father into the sultan’s custody? Was there nothing she could offer Jamal to keep her father safe?

  The answer came to her, clear and concise and definitely unwelcome. She had only one thing to offer Jamal… herself. She could surrender to his seduction and remain his slave forever. Even though permanent captivity would likely kill her, she’d do it for her father and all the people who depended upon him. Without Youssef to lead them, the Berbers would lose their fight against unfair taxation and might never regain their lost lands.

  Her solution to the problem was not a simple matter and could not be decided upon without considerable thought. First she had to appeal to Jamal to grant her time alone with her father. She had to know how to best serve Youssef without endangering his life. If she must sacrifice her innocence to save her father’s life, then so be it. Jamal wanted her. And to be perfectly honest, she’d just as soon let Jamal be the man to give her that first taste of pleasure.

  Jamal was waiting for Zara when she returned to the bed chamber. He was lying in bed, gazing absently out the window at the star-studded sky. He smiled at her and held out his hand.

  “Come, you must be exhausted.”

  “How did you know my father would come for me tonight?” Zara asked as she perched gingerly on the side of the bed. “Who betrayed him?” She needed answers before she could sleep.

  “No one betrayed Youssef. I discovered the remains of a camp while hunting yesterday and put two and two together. Caravans never come this close to Paradise. It’s off the beaten path. I knew Youssef would come for you sooner or later and decided to keep watch every night until he showed up.”

  “Let him go.”

  “Are you mad? I’m not anxious to commit suicide. And that’s what it would be if I betrayed Moulay Ishmail. The sultan wants Youssef. Go to sleep, Zara. I’m too tired to do battle with you.”

  “Do you want me, Jamal?”

  He sighed and closed his eyes. “More than you can imagine. But when I take you it won’t be a quick coupling in the middle of the night.”

  “I wish to speak with my father. Will you allow it?”

  “Ask me tomorrow. I may be more inclined to allow it then.”

  His answer instilled little confidence in Zara. She had to speak to her father before he was sent to Meknes. She took a deep, steadying breath and said, “I am willing to bargain for the privilege of seeing my father.”

  She finally had Jamal’s attention. His eyes opened slowly and he searched her face through narrowed lids. “You have very little to bargain with, sweet vixen.”

  His voice was low and provocative, sending a shiver down Zara’s spine. “I have something you covet, my lord.”

  “What I covet can be taken without your permission.”

  Her chin rose fractionally. “By force, my lord. Is that how you would have me?”

  “Nay, sweet vixen. I want you hot and willing. We will strike a bargain, you and I. One we can both live with.”

  Chapter Seven

  Surrounded by the warmth of Jamal’s body, Zara awoke slowly the following morning. The moment she opened her eyes she became aware of many things at once. His large hand cupped her breast and his body was curved around hers. She hadn’t fallen asleep until dawn, lying stiffly at Jamal’s side, waiting for him to reach for her. But he did not. His gentle snoring had finally lulled her to sleep.

  “You’re awake.” His breath was warm against her ear. “Did you sleep well, sweet vixen?”

  “Nay. I do not like your hands on my body.” Could he tell she was lying?

  He pushed himself to his elbow and turned her to face him. “I like the feel of my hands on you. Your breasts are magnificent. Full and firm but not overly large. Your nipples stand out like ripe cherries, my favorite fruits. I intend to feast on them until I am sated.”

  Zara pushed his hands away. “We have a bargain to strike,” she reminded him. “When can I see my father?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Aye, a bargain. Very well, sweet vixen, we shall strike another bargain. State your terms and I’ll state mine.”

  “You want me, my lord. You may have me as a willing participant in your bed until you tire of me
. In return, I ask only that you set my father free.”

  Jamal gave a derisive snort. “Nay, Zara. I cannot free your father and you know it. Here are my terms. You may visit your father daily until he is sent to Meknes. In return, you will come to my bed willingly whenever I want you.”

  “That is not acceptable, my lord.”

  “You forget,” Jamal reminded her, “that you are my slave. I have no need to bargain with you when I own you body and soul. The reason I do so now is because I prefer not to force you to my bed. But you have made a shambles of my patience. You have no rights, sweet vixen. Accept my terms or your father will suffer the consequences.”

  Zara bit the soft underside of her lip, her mind working furiously. Had she driven Jamal too far? Most men would not have put up with her defiance. They would have bedded her whether she wished it or not.

  “You said I might visit my father while he is here.”

  “That is true.”

  “Then grant me one small boon. Do not send Father to Meknes right away. You will find me most appreciative if you hold him prisoner here instead of sending him to the sultan.”

  “Sooner or later Youssef must go to Meknes,” Jamal contended.

  “Make it later,” Zara pleaded. “The sultan doesn’t know Father is here yet, and as long as his caravans are no longer threatened, he will not care.”

  “He will care. Ishmail wants Youssef’s head. But I will grant you this boon, my sweet. For the time being, Youssef and his followers will remain my prisoners. Do not ask more of me than that.”

  Zara felt a surge of joy. As long as Youssef remained, she knew she could find a way to free him. Obtaining her father’s freedom would be worth the loss of her innocence. She had retained it longer than most women; thirteen was considered the ideal age for brides and concubines.

  “Very well, I agree to your terms.”

  Jamal gave her a slow, provocative smile. “Allah be praised. My patience is about to be rewarded. In my arms, sweet vixen, you may be as wild as you like.”

  “I wish to see my father,” Zara said, refusing to return his smile. Her decision gave her little joy.