So why was this woman blushing like a virgin? And he was certain he'd seen fear cross her lovely features.
When she had first been apprehended and brought to the palace, he had assumed she'd been involved in a plot to kidnap Dhiya. Probably working with the Englishman, Drake. After watching her answer the questions his men threw at her, then talking to her himself, though, he wasn't sure what to believe. She had been captured too easily and seemed a little too shaken to be a professional. The alternative, that Dhiya had asked for her helped, seemed the most likely.
Either way, her actions had brought dishonor to him and his family. He could not let that go unpunished, but how severe should the punishment be?
Before he'd confronted her in his office, he'd skimmed the books she'd had in her handbag, wanting to understand something of the woman. All three had themes of captivity, one actually a collection of stories specific to the topic. In the first story of the collection, which he'd read completely, the hero had taken the heroine prisoner and forced her into his bed. She'd fought him, but deep inside she'd wanted him as badly as he'd wanted her.
Clearly, the idea of being forced to submission excited this woman, so he'd decided to use her own fantasies against her. His suggestion had been designed to intimidate her.
And, he had to admit to himself, to arouse her. From the moment he'd first set eyes on her, he'd been consumed by an overwhelming need to take her in his arms and ravage her. Under other circumstances, he would simply have asked her to dinner and proceeded to convince her to spend the night. Maybe several nights. A woman as beautiful as her would be quite experienced. Maybe they'd both learn something new.
But she had wronged him and he couldn't just treat her as a guest. All afternoon, however, he had thought of nothing but the possibility that she might actually agree to a night of passion, his suggested punishment proving an aphrodisiac to her. An image of her hardening nipples clearly visible through the white gauze when he'd made the suggestion came unbidden to his mind.
He had walked in here ready to see her in the sexy costume he'd sent for her, hoping the evening would play out to a satisfying conclusion. For both of them.
But looking at her now, he wondered if he'd misjudged the situation.
He handed her a silver goblet of wine.
"Here, drink this."
When she sipped it, he saw her hand shaking. When she put down the glass, he noticed that shivers shook her whole body.
Damn. She looked so vulnerable. He had intended to leave her like this, her lovely body on display. He had assumed she had intended this as part of a game, perhaps a ploy to get the upper hand with her allure. Clearly, that was not so.
"Now that you've had time to consider your options, would you like to wear the outfit I sent to you after all?"
Her face flushed red again. "It isn't really wearable right now. I … tore it."
Anger shimmered to the surface. The intricate beadwork had taken several days of his best craftswoman's time.
"Is that what you do with everything you don't like? Destroy it?"
"N ... no. The women tried to stop me taking it off. There was no other way. I d ... didn't mean to ruin it."
The thought of that tiny bra supporting her round, firm breasts jolted into his head, then her tearing open the fabric until they burst free. His throat went dry. Involuntarily, his gaze dropped to her breasts and, instantly, his mood lightened at the same time as his groin tightened. Her nipples, fully erect, strained forward. It certainly wasn't because it was cold. It was cooler here than in most of the palace because of the overhead fans, but it was still in the eighties. Clearly, this woman, Angelica, was excited by the whole situation, after all.
He imagined Naja, Jazlyn, and petite Rasha trying to stop this headstrong woman from tearing off her clothes, and he started to laugh. Her arms stiffened at her sides, her hands balling into fists.
"What's so funny?" she demanded.
"I only wish you would tear your clothes off in an effort to please me rather than to defy me."
Angelica tipped her head and stared at him, totally confused. She'd never seen him laugh and it only made him more devastatingly handsome.
"Now, I absolutely must punish you for that," he declared.
Chapter Four
Angelica stiffened as his strong hands encircled her wrists and he pulled her to her feet.
"But … I don't understand," Angelica protested as he dragged her into another room.
Heaps of cushions in luxurious textures lay scattered around the room. He dragged her past them to the wall, then pulled aside silky, draped fabric revealing chains on the wall.
Her eyes widened and she gasped.
"No," she wailed as he clamped first one wrist, then the other into the heavy iron bands.
Although the metal was cold and uncompromising, the inside was cushioned with soft velvet. He grasped one of her ankles and pulled it sideways, clamped a band around it, then did the same with her other ankle. Now she stood, spread-eagled and naked in front of him.
His hands on his hips, he stood and stared at her, a half-smile on his lips. His gaze traveled down her body, then circled her breasts, watching the nipples pucker and push forward. Damn them for reacting that way!
His gaze slipped downward and he stared at her dark curls. It was sheer torture standing there while he gazed at her so intently. She felt her insides melt and liquid heat pool inside her.
Oh, God, what would he do now?
He stepped toward her and she pressed herself tight against the cool stone of the wall. He raised his hand to her cheek, then stroked lightly. His touch sent tremors through her. She could imagine those big, masculine hands traveling over her body, cupping her breasts, stroking between her legs to find the slippery, welcoming moisture waiting for him.
She felt faint. He eased forward, until his face, and his lips, were a mere inch from her own.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to rush this. I intend a little … torture … before pleasure."
Torture? She trembled.
He smiled and turned around, then strode from the room. She collapsed against the wall, fearful of what he had planned. He returned five minutes later, a smile lighting his face. He sat on a pile of cushions a few feet away and watched her. Three women entered the room, wrapped in shimmering veils, one in crimson, one in turquoise, the last in iridescent violet.
Music filled the room, wafting in through the doorway. The women began to dance, twirling around the room. They shimmied and swayed, spinning in circles, while slowly loosening their veils until they swirled in beautiful trails of color. The dancers wore intricately beaded bras and belts with circular skirts that twirled high when they spun around. The sound of the beaded fringe, edged with tiny bells, tinkled melodically, like the laughter of fairies. The delightful veils caressed the air as they responded to the dancers arm movements, then they fluttered to the floor as the women released them.
The music slowed and the women's hips swayed from side to side. The woman in crimson slowed and sank to her knees, her arms undulating in front of her. She arched backward, her head brushing the ground behind her, her breasts curving upward. The woman in turquoise sank to her knees beside Crimson and stroked her back.
No, she wasn't stroking Crimson, Angelica realized, as the bra came free and Turquoise removed it from her companion. Crimson began a shoulder shimmy and her breasts, full and round, quivered. The nipples tightened, thrusting upward. Angelica couldn't pry her gaze from them.
"They are beautiful, Azima's breasts, don't you agree?" Kadin said.
Angelica glanced toward him. Her gaze locked with his, then veered away. Involuntarily, she nodded.
She became acutely aware of the beaded fringe still draped around her neck. The fringe danced across the top of her breasts, teasing, making her long for a lover's hands. For Kadin's hands.
The other two dancers sank to the floor beside Crimson and began stroking her quivering belly. Their hands fluttered melodically to the music as they progressed upward, toward her breasts. Angelica's breath held as the women cupped Crimson's full breasts in their delicate hands. Crimson stopped her shoulder shimmy and started a belly roll, her abdomen undulating up and down as her friends stroked the tips of her breasts. In unison, the two women arched over her and drew her nipples into their mouths. Angelica felt her own nipples ache with need. She glanced down at them. They were hard and distended. Her gaze flicked to Kadin and she glanced away quickly when she saw he was watching her.
Despite the erotic scene playing out in front of them, she could see in her peripheral vision that his gaze remained locked on her. Both Turquoise and Violet removed their bras and cast them aside, then raised their hands high and shimmied their hips. Their breasts, just as full and round as Crimson's, quivered with the movement. Still on their knees, they each shifted to their left, Turquoise positioning herself at Crimson's head and Violet at Crimson's knees.