Sheik

by Mason, Connie

“More than life itself,” Zara admitted.

  Zinab’s eyes grew round with wonder. “You must flee immediately and save yourself. There is nothing you can do to help Jamal. It is too late.”

  “I refuse to accept that.” She lowered her voice. “I can save him, with your help. You are young, Zinab, and can’t possibly know what it is like to love a man so deeply that you would risk your life for him.”

  “How I long for a love like that.” Zinab sighed wistfully. “But we both know that’s impossible. I will die in the palace without ever knowing true love. My body belongs to the sultan and whomever he chooses to give it to, but I will never know fulfillment. I’ve been here so long I cannot even remember my parents. They were poor and sold me as a slave when I was but a child.”

  “Will you help me, Zinab? Let me take your place with Jamal. My father and Jamal’s lieutenant will attempt a rescue tonight. Jamal must be told about our plans so he will be ready.”

  “I am to be locked in the room with Jamal tonight. The door won’t be opened until noon tomorrow. What will happen to me if Jamal escapes? The sultan will demand my death. I would help if I could, Zara, but I am too young to die.”

  “You needn’t die, Zinab,” Zara contended. “Wouldn’t you like to be free, to find the love you seek? Let me go to Jamal in your place. You can slip away through the women’s gate and go to my father. I will tell you where to find him. He will protect you. Jamal will reward you for your help. You’ll have the means to go and do whatever you wish. By helping me you can free yourself from the sultan’s vicious moods forever.”

  “If only it could be so,” Zinab said wistfully. “The first obstacle is the women’s gate. ’Tis locked at night and I wouldn’t be able to get out.” Suddenly her eyes lit up. “I know the guard who tends the gate. I think he’d let me out if I agree …” Her words fell away and she dropped her gaze.

  “Then you’ll do it?” Zara asked.

  “The sweet taste of freedom makes my mouth water. Once I leave Meknes, I hope to journey far away, where Ishmail cannot find me. I doubt Ishmail will stir himself over the loss of a lowly slave.”

  Elated, Zara leaned closer and said, “Let us make our plans.”

  Jamal regarded the high wall surrounding the garden with misgivings. He’d spent the better part of the day examining the structure for toeholds but he’d found only smooth surfaces. Discouraged, he turned away.

  Dusk sat heavily upon the earth and Jamal knew it wouldn’t be long before Zinab arrived to ease his last moments on earth. The sultan had displayed yet another facet of his depravity when he permitted Jamal to taste ecstasy one last time before suffering a cruel death. It was clear to Jamal that Ishmail’s generosity was another example of his sadistic nature.

  Jamal thought of the young girl who would soon enter his room. Zinab was sweet but she hadn’t Zara’s depth or fire. Still, he would have the company of another human being to ease his last hours.

  Suddenly the door opened and a woman stepped into the room. She was dressed in flowing robes, her face heavily veiled. She carried a tray from which arose a tempting aroma. Jamal thought it strange that he could still be hungry with one foot in the grave. He watched with appreciation as Zinab glided into the room and placed the tray of food on the table. A guard stood in the open doorway, admiring the seductive sway of her hips.

  “The door will remain locked until the hour of noon tomorrow,” the guard said. “Make the most of your last hours, Sheik, for you will take no pleasure in the painful death planned for you.” He chuckled at his own wit as he closed and locked the door.

  A subtle tension moved over Jamal’s tall, solid form as he watched Zinab. He hadn’t bothered to light a lamp. Except for a bar of moonlight spilling through the open windows, the room was veiled in shadowy darkness. Jamal sensed a subtle different in Zinab but couldn’t put his finger on it. He moved to the lamp and struck a light. A soft golden glow flooded the room, enveloping the quiescent female in a nimbus of mystery and beauty.

  “Share my meal, Zinab,” Jamal invited, breaking the tense silence.

  Zara drifted forward, drinking in the sight of Jamal, her anxious gaze searching for injuries. When she found none she allowed herself to breathe again.

  “You are quiet tonight, little one. Remove your veil. I’d like to look upon something lovely to take with me to my death.”

  Zara didn’t move. She could tell by Jamal’s tone of voice that he thought highly of Zinab. Had Zinab found ecstasy in Jamal’s arms? She and Zinab hadn’t spoken of what had passed between them.

  “What is it, Zinab? What’s wrong? You seem different. I sense—” He could not name what he sensed, for he couldn’t bear the disappointment if he was wrong.

  “What do you sense, my lord?”

  Jamal went still. Hope and fear warred within him. It couldn’t be. Yet… His hands were shaking when he reached out to whisk away the piece of filmy cloth covering her head and face. Jamal’s eyes widened with shock when a curtain of silken blond tresses fell free and Zara’s beloved face floated before him in all its golden-skinned beauty.

  Cold, raw fear nearly stopped his heart. “Allah, no! It can’t be. Am I dreaming? What cruel trick is this? Zara is safe aboard my ship. I could not bear it if it wasn’t so.”

  “You are not dreaming, Jamal. Did you think I’d let you go to your death without a fight? Father is here, too. So is Haroun. We will not let you die.”

  Zara’s sacrifice brought tears to Jamal’s eyes. Didn’t she know there was no escape for either of them now? They would die together. Their gazes met and clung, and suddenly she was in his arms. He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead, and returned to her mouth. They did not speak, savoring the intimacy without words. Finally Jamal pulled away.

  “You have written your own death warrant, my love. Why did you do it? I could have accepted death knowing you were safe. How did you escape Haroun? What is your father doing in Meknes? If he is recognized …”

  “You heard the guard, Jamal. The door will remain locked until noon tomorrow. Father and Haroun are even now making plans for our escape. They will bring swift horses to the east wall during the darkest hours tonight.”

  Jamal shook his head, struck by the irony of it. “The wall can’t be scaled. I’ve already inspected every inch of the structure. It’s topped with jagged shards of glass—we’d be cut to pieces even if it could be scaled. It’s all for naught, love.”

  Suddenly Jamal brightened. “Perhaps all is not lost. You will leave this room veiled, just as you arrived. No one but you and I need ever know that the woman with me tonight wasn’t Zinab. By the way,” he wondered, “what happened to Zinab? How did you get her to agree to this? You have not harmed her, have you?”

  A worm of jealousy burrowed beneath Zara’s skin. “Zinab is in no danger. You seem inordinately fond of her.”

  “Zinab is a sweet child.”

  “A worldly child,” Zara corrected.

  Jamal grinned despite the gravity of the situation. “Jealous, my love?”

  Zara regarded him with exasperation. “This is no time to speak of such things. Just know that I will not leave this room without you. Now, are you prepared to listen?”

  “I will listen, but nothing is going to change. The wall can’t be scaled.”

  “Father will find a way to get us out of here. I trust him and Haroun implicitly. They have many hours yet in which to study the situation and arrive at a solution. There is nothing for us to do but while away the hours and await their signal.”

  “Ah, Zara, your unshakable faith is refreshing. You can’t begin to know how much I love you.”

  Zara went still. “What did you say?”

  “I love you, sweet vixen. It may be too late for us, but when you leave here I want you to carry the memory of our last moments together.”

  He pulled her into his arms and she rested pliantly against him, bemused by his declaration of love. Did he truly mean it or was he merely uttering word
s he thought she wanted to hear?

  “I made you my slave but I was the one enslaved,” Jamal whispered against her lips. “Lie with me, sweet vixen. Let me love you. I want to fill myself with your sweet essence. I want to die with the taste of you in my mouth and the scent of you filling my nostrils.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Zara said fiercely. “I won’t permit it.”

  Jamal chuckled. “My ferocious warrior woman. If your father and Haroun succeed in their endeavor, I’ll never doubt you again. Meanwhile, let us claim this night for ourselves and make it one to remember.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jamal dragged Zara against him, raining kisses on her mouth, her eyelids, her cheeks, her chin. Zara moaned as he took her mouth again. Fire raced through her blood, settling low in her belly.

  “I’m going to love you, sweet vixen, for all the hours we have left to us. The memories we create tonight will have to last you a lifetime. Should I die tomorrow, I want you to remember that no one will ever love you as I do.”

  “You’re not going to die!” Zara reiterated. “When we leave here, it will be together.”

  Jamal sent her a wistful smile. “So fierce, my lovely Zara. I love your passion, sweet vixen. Give it to me now.”

  Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the narrow couch, setting her on the edge and kneeling at her feet. He lifted each foot in turn and removed her boots. His hands were gentle as he untied her sash and tugged down her trousers. Zara lifted her hips and bottom as Jamal slid the trousers down her legs and tossed them aside. Smiling into her eyes, he began to explore her abdomen, continuing downward to stroke her legs and the insides of her smooth, golden thighs, stopping just short of that soft, smooth triangle.

  His touch set her aflame. Liquid fire flowed through her veins. “Jamal, please.”

  “Spread your legs for me, sweet Zara.”

  She did it blindly, joyously, desperate for his touch, aching for it. She felt his hand slide upward along her leg, testing the smoothness of her skin. She felt his long, skillful fingers part the petals of her sex and tease her tiny, sensitive jewel. She moaned when he slipped his fingers deep inside her. Searing flames set fire to the flesh that he caressed; her whole being strained toward the ultimate pleasure she knew he would give her.

  His fingers moved in and out along the silken crevice as Zara raced toward release. But Jamal was not ready to release her yet from the erotic pleasure he was inflicting. Abruptly he pulled his fingers away. Zara cried out in protest.

  “Patience, sweet vixen.”

  Moving downward, he buried his face between her legs. Zara arched violently into his intimate caress as his mouth closed over her. Then his tongue dipped inside her, gliding in and out of her hot, wet sheath, savoring her sweet nectar. He felt her muscles begin to contract and knew she was on the brink of fulfillment. One last thrust of his tongue brought her to a gut-wrenching climax. Her cries of completion were the sweetest music he had ever heard.

  Long moments passed before Zara gained her wits. When she did, she saw that Jamal had shed his clothing and was lying naked beside her, idly stroking her breasts as her tremors subsided. His manhood was still engorged, still pulsing with life, still unappeased. Zara looked askance at him.

  “My turn will come,” he promised, reading her mind. “We will eat first, then bathe. Come,” he said, offering his hand.

  Zara would have followed him to the ends of the earth, had he asked. She loved this man with a fierce, enduring passion. That he returned her love was a miracle.

  Naked and unashamed, they devoured the food sent for their enjoyment. When the last morsel had disappeared, Jamal swept Zara into his arms and carried her to the hammam. He walked into the knee-deep water and let her slide down his body to her feet.

  “I will wash you,” Zara said, reaching for the jar of scented soap at the edge of the tub. Dipping her fingers inside, she spread soap over his shoulders and torso.

  Jamal gave a growl of pleasure as Zara’s hands slid over his smooth flesh. She sent him a mischievous smile, dipped her fingers into the jar again and began to lather his hips and legs. When her hands closed around his staff, Jamal gave a hoarse cry and staggered backward. Zara dropped to her knees before him, wrapped her arms around his thighs and opened her mouth to him.

  Jamal felt her hot, wet mouth close around him, felt her tongue sliding up and down and around the smooth head, and bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep from ending it too soon. He let Zara have her way until he felt his juices rising and knew he could bear no more.

  “Enough, sweet vixen, you’re driving me wild. ’Tis your turn. Now I will bathe you.”

  Zara closed her eyes as Jamal’s strong hands traversed her soft body, spreading soap and fire with every stroke, each caress. By the time he finished, Zara was groaning and shuddering. Abruptly he lifted her from the bath and carried her back to the couch. He dried her tenderly with a soft drying cloth and lay down beside her. Then he kissed her, a long, thorough searching of her mouth with his tongue.

  She was gasping for breath when he left her mouth and shifted his lips downward, briefly touching the pulse point at the base of her throat with his tongue. His mouth continued its downward path, spreading a trail of fire to her breasts, where he licked and sucked her nipples into erect peaks.

  “Had I silver balls, I would intensify your pleasure, sweet vixen,” Jamal whispered. “But alas, I have nothing but my hands, lips and mouth with which to pleasure you.”

  Zara smiled dreamily. “Not true, my love. You have a mighty lance that brings me the greatest pleasure I have ever known. Come inside me now. I am more than ready.”

  “Praise Allah, for I can wait no longer.”

  He raised himself to his knees and grasped her buttocks, lifting her hips as he shoved his rigid length into her with one swift, powerful thrust. Zara moaned at the incredible feel of it, trembling all over as he drove in and then out with long, measured strokes. Jamal’s hands on her hips were not gentle, nor were the strong, forceful thrusts that drove deep and hard inside her, one pounding thrust after another. But Zara did not want gentleness as wracking spasms shook her slender body and she gave herself up to pleasure.

  “More,” Jamal urged hoarsely as his hips moved like pistons against hers. “Come to me again. Give me everything, sweet vixen.”

  Zara couldn’t believe it when a second climax rivaling the first shook her. The room tilted and she hurtled into space. Then she felt Jamal go rigid, felt the scalding rush of his seed inside her and heard his shout of ecstasy. He remained inside her a long time, easing his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her. Finally his strength returned and he eased his body off her.

  “I can die a happy man now,” Jamal said, looking deep into her eyes.

  “No one is going to die,” Zara claimed. “When father and Haroun come—”

  He stopped her words with a kiss. “Promise me one thing, Zara,” Jamal said after kissing her into silence.

  “If I can,” she said warily.

  “If we’re still in this room when morning comes, you’re to leave when the door opens and never look back. Go with Haroun to Tangier. My ship will carry you to safety, to England, where my mother will look after you.”

  She stared at him. “You ask too much of me.”

  “What can you promise?”

  She gave him a brilliant smile. “To love you till the end of time. Together or apart, I will always love you.”

  “If you hadn’t resisted me, you might have come to that conclusion long ago. Think of all the time we wasted.”

  “I’m much too proud to endure life as a slave. Or be dominated by a master. I wanted you to treat me as an equal, not as a captive. I’m a Berber princess, my freedom is important to me. I wanted to be free to choose my own mate.”

  “You are no longer a slave, Zara. In my heart I freed you long ago. Now my words have freed you.”

  Zara gave him a saucy grin. “Your generosity over
whelms me, my lord. In my heart, I never considered myself a slave.”

  “Vixen,” Jamal said, returning her grin. “There are still many hours left before your father and Haroun arrive.”

  “Have I convinced you, then, oh skeptical one?”

  Jamal shrugged. “Why not? I have nothing to lose by believing I am to be rescued, and much to gain. With you in my arms I can believe anything. Let’s not waste a moment of precious time. I’m ready to love you again, Zara.”

  “Oh, yes, Jamal, please.”

  He aroused her slowly, lavishing tender nipping kisses over her body, using his hands and mouth to make her body sing. She returned his ardor caress for caress, kiss for kiss, until he was hard as stone and rigid with need.

  “Turn over,” he urged.

  She obeyed blindly. Then he raised her hips and positioned himself behind her. When he finally came inside her feminine passage she thrust back against him, urging him on with small, desperate cries. He leaned over her, his hands free to explore her breasts, to tease her nipples into hard peaks.

  Sweat dampened his skin and desire pooled hot and heavy in his loins. The scent of hot female flesh and sexual excitement filled his nostrils as he drove himself harder, deeper, into her slick passage. Then his hands moved lower, finding her swollen jewel and massaging it gently with the pad of his thumb. Muffling her scream with a pillow, Zara began to shake.

  “Hang on, sweet vixen. Soon we will soar together.”

  Zara was already soaring as she felt her soul leave her body and fly upward to meet the moon and the stars. Jamal climaxed violently, then collapsed beside her.

  They must have dozed, for Jamal awoke a short time later with the certain knowledge that they were not alone. He pulled a cover over Zara’s nude body and sat up, peering into the shadowy corners of the room. A figure cloaked in concealing black robes stepped into the room from the open doors facing the garden and bowed.

  “Allah be with you, my lord. Are you and the princess ready to leave?”

  Jamal leaped to his feet, unmindful of his naked state. “Haroun? Is that you?”