"The master will be very angry."
"Then don't tell him."
"His orders were for you to be brought to him in that outfit."
Angelica placed her hands on her own hips, extremely conscious of her nudity but ignoring it.
"Well, maybe it's time for him to learn that not all his orders will be followed."
One of the women gasped. Angelica suspected the only reason the other woman didn't seem surprised was because she didn't speak English.
She marched away from them, snatched the silk coverlet from the bed and wrapped it around herself. She sat down, her arms crossed over her chest as she held the coverlet firmly around herself.
She had shown them she wouldn't be pushed around, she thought smugly.
Chapter Three
Angelica's smugness faded quickly when the women simply dragged her from the bed and led her through the hallways totally naked except for the cover she clung to.
They stopped in front of a heavy wooden door in a tall, arched doorway. The head woman knocked and the door pulled open. A tall guard greeted her and waved them inside. The women led Angelica into a large, sumptuous room filled with plush, upholstered couches and chairs piled high with silk and velvet cushions, all in rich jewel tones, and ornately carved, ebony furniture. They prodded her to the middle of the room and stood behind her. The guard left, but she was certain he would be standing right outside, ensuring she didn't run for it.
"What is this?" a familiar, masculine voice demanded.
She glanced around and saw Kadin, the sinfully gorgeous man who'd insisted she owed him a debt, and demanded she pay with her body. She opened her mouth to voice a protest at her treatment, but his dark, penetrating eyes stole her breath away.
His stormy gaze drifted over the blue silk coverlet cloaking her.
She straightened her shoulders, but tightened her hold on the fabric.
"They refused to provide me with decent clothes."
His eyebrows raised and he stepped toward her. She could read nothing in his coal-black eyes. His mood, whether foul or fair, was a mystery to her. His presence filled the room and, as he approached, she had to force herself not to cringe. Yet at the same time, her body buzzed with an alarming excitement.
Her body reacted to him far too easily. She reminded herself what might happen here tonight. Unfortunately, that kicked the excitement up several notches making her insides quiver.
"I see. So you decided to cover yourself with this." His tone, low and dangerous, sent alarm skittering through her.
Before she could comprehend what was happening, he grabbed the blanket and yanked it from her grasp.
Where she'd been hot a second before, now cool air swirled around her entire body. Suddenly, she stood totally naked before him. Actually, not totally naked, since the women had managed to put a necklace of beaded fringe around her neck when they'd dressed her in the costume. She hadn't noticed until she'd felt the beads brushing against her skin when they'd lead her along the hallway. She glanced down at herself in horror, her gaze latching onto the beads, the twinkling silver and gold mesmerizing her. The fringe circled her neck, growing longer toward the center, forming a point which caressed the crevasse between her breasts.
When she glanced back up she saw his stormy eyes had widened in surprise. Could it be he'd assumed she'd been wearing the costume underneath?
"Leave us." At his command, the women hurried from the room.
His expression returned to one of cool indifference as his gaze traveled leisurely down her body, in a slow, deliberate perusal. Her skin burned all over. She wanted desperately to cover herself, but she refused to cringe behind the too-brief shelter her hands would provide. Better to stand tall and proud.
Of course, that wasn't easy as she felt the heat of his gaze. It moved along her body like a hot feather lightly brushing her skin. Down her breastbone, sending goose bumps quivering along her skin. Sliding along the curve of her breast, to her nipples, which tightened and swelled erect at the unaccustomed attention. The longer he lingered there, the tighter they became. Slowly, his gaze drifted lower, down her stomach, past her navel, until he reached the dark curls.
Anxiety built within her, like lava inside an active volcano, until she felt ready to burst. Her hands clenched at her sides. She had to make him stop.
"Give me back the blanket," she demanded.
His gaze locked with hers, the edge of anger hardening his usually indifferent eyes.
"Please," she quickly amended. She was in no position to make demands, and she desperately wanted to cover herself.
His response was to thrust the blanket out of reach and step towards her, sending her anxiety level higher.
"Why have you chosen to defy me?"
She clenched her fists tighter, clinging to some shred of composure. "I couldn't wear the tiny costume you provided. It barely covered anything."
His eyebrows quirked up. "Yet it did cover something. Unlike your current attire." His finger stroked the bottom of the beaded necklace.
A jolt of electricity shot through her at the brush of his fingertip on her flesh.
He shrugged. "Certainly, an interesting choice on your part. I hope you don't get cold during dinner."
She stared at him in horror. "You don't mean … surely, you realize I didn't intend to ..."
"I do not intend for you to sit wrapped in a blanket all through dinner."
Her jaw dropped. "You're not going to leave me like this, are you?"
He thrust his finger out, pointing at a pillow-bedecked couch. "Sit."
Oh, God. He did. She sucked in a deep breath and stepped toward the couch, her back so rigid it felt like it might snap in two. She sank onto the cushions, the feel of the plush fabric against the back of her thighs an unwelcome reminder of her nudity.
She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. Lord, this was really happening. She was held prisoner by some crazy sultan who wanted to ravage her to pay for a crime she hadn't committed. She felt tears bubbling inside her, but forced them back. She would not let him see her vulnerability. Drawing on her inner strength, she told herself she would live through this. It would all be over soon.
Her chest felt so heavy she could barely breathe and her fingers felt stiff and useless. Here she sat before this man, this stranger, totally naked. Soon, he would strip her of more than her clothes. He planned to make love to her. No, have sex with her. As a punishment.
Her hands started to shake. Would he really force her? Would he throw her onto the bed and kiss her until she gasped for breath? Would he would crush her to his body, her naked breasts flattened against his hard male chest?
She drew in a quick breath at the horrible realization that this situation actually excited her.
Damn it. If he forced her, it wouldn't be like the romantic scene she'd just imagined. If he used force it would be rough and uncompromising. She might even get hurt.
A tiny voice suggested she actually cooperate with him. Maybe even encourage him. If it was going to happen, why not reduce the trauma? He was a very sexy man.
But she couldn't give herself to a man who would demand her body as a punishment, without any thought to her wants or needs.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivers traveling the length of her arms despite the heat.
"Why do you want to humiliate me like this?"
"There is no shame in revealing a beautiful body." His gaze caressed her breasts, resting on the protruding peaks, then glided down past her navel to the triangle of curls. "And your body is exquisite."
She felt her cheeks burn hotter. He stepped closer and leaned slightly toward her.
"You know, very soon I will see every inch of your body, close up … will touch every inch with my hands, my lips, my tongue."
She began to tremble. The image of his hands stroking down her belly as his lips caressed the tips of her breasts sent heat flashing through her. She could imagine him drawing her nipples into his mouth, teasing them, sucking them deep.
Kadin watched the various emotions fleet across her face. Her cheeks had flared bright red, then, when he'd reminded her he would be touching her soon, the color had drained from her face. He kept his gaze on her face now, trying to decipher her thoughts.
She was not what he expected. Western women were sophisticated, unshakable. After all, they walked the beaches, in full public view, wearing practically nothing at all. And sex. They thought nothing of having several partners before marriage.
Western women were nothing like the women of his country. And this woman had sat in his office with the simple, white gauze robe arranged on her body to enhance her attractions in a way that drove him wild. When he'd seen the front gaping open, revealing the swell of her breast, he'd had a hard time controlling himself. And she had chosen not to wear the cotton gown Dhiya had worn beneath for modesty. Thus, the gauze clung to her damp body, and the result was that she might as well have been wearing only her undergarments, as skimpy as they were, because they had clearly shown through.