Silk and Secrets(69)

When she finished with Ross's right hand and released him, somehow his fingertips slowly stroked across her palm with such sensual effect that she almost jumped from her skin. So much for being dispassionate.

She gave her husband a suspicious glance, but he was conversing with Saleh and Murad and paying no attention to her ministrations. That erotic caress must have been an accident—but she took care that it didn't happen again when she was cleaning his left hand.

Juliet frowned at what she found under the dust and dried blood, for several of the deeper cuts were still bleeding and needed further treatment. She glanced at Murad, who was about to extinguish the small fire they had used to make tea during the match. "Leave the fire."

Burnt hair was a classic and effective treatment for small cuts. Juliet would have been happy to use her own, but whipping her coppery tresses out from under the tagelmoust would do her disguise no good, so she took her knife and trimmed a handful of the long black hair that curled beneath her camel's long neck.

She laid the hair on one of the fire rocks and placed a coal on top so that the strands flared into brief, pungent flame. After the burned hair had cooled into delicate ash, she scooped it up, then crossed to Ross, who was watching her curiously.

Juliet crumbled some of the ashes and sprinkled them across the deepest laceration. Immediately the blood coagulated.

"Interesting," he commented. "Is this a Persian remedy?"

"Afghan," she said as she treated the next gash. "Burned hair is suitable only for small cuts, but it stops the bleeding and reduces the chance of infection. Any sort of hair will do."

"So much more civilized than cauterization. Speaking of which, how is your arm?"

"Fine. I've almost forgotten about it," she said truthfully as she finished treating Ross's hands. Though now that she was reminded of the injury she had sustained just a few days before, she realized that her arm was throbbing. In the excitement of the bozkashi match, she hadn't noticed.

The ride back to Merv was much more relaxed than the journey out had been. Occasionally some locals would pass by and call out an admiring remark about the match, which seemed to have been witnessed by every man in this part of the Kara Kum. The process of Ross becoming a legend was well under way.

The road followed the river of Merv for the last stretch. Narrow and rush-lined, the channel wound through the desert in lazy curves, its banks incongruously green against the barren sandscape. When they came to a place where the river pooled by some willow trees, Ross reined in Julietta, regarding the water longingly.

"You can go on to the caravansary without me," he said to his companions. "I'll be back later."

After dismounting, he divested himself of boots, shirt, and bozkashi hat and dropped them in a mound on the sandy bank. Then, with a whoop of pleasure, he dived into the river.

The sight of Ross's half-naked body immediately unraveled all of the progress Juliet had made in controlling her inconvenient lust. The day was already blisteringly hot, but now a wave of heat swept over her so intensely that she felt faint.

Ignoring Ross's suggestion that the others continue without him, Murad said enthusiastically, "A splendid idea, Khilburn. We shall join you." He guided the camel he and Saleh shared over to the riverbank. Then he couched the beast, scrambled out of his pannier, and began peeling off his clothing.

Saleh also climbed out of his pannier, then removed his sandals. Glancing at Juliet, whose camel had followed the others to the river, he suggested, "If you do not swim, wade with me in the shallows."

More slowly than the others, Juliet dismounted. She was feverish, on the verge of burning up, and the water beckoned like paradise, but joining her husband in the river was unthinkable.

Ross glanced over and tossed a teasing handful of water in her direction. "Yes, Jalal. At least get your feet wet."

Wordlessly she shook her head. It would have been best to return to the caravansary alone, but at the moment the effort was beyond her. Spinning on her heel, Juliet strode along the riverbank until she was out of sight of her companions.

Her breathing harsh and irregular, she kept on until she found a small secluded pool veiled by willows and high rushes. No longer able to maintain even the faintest semblance of control, she folded down on her knees in the sandy soil at the edge of the water and dragged off her tagelmoust with trembling hands.

Since leaving Serevan, she had been swathed in layers of fabric day and night. Iin her present fevered state she felt as if she would suffocate if she wore the veil any longer.

She dropped the tagelmoust beside her, then used her cupped hands to splash water onto her face and throat. The blessed coolness was soothing to both mind and body.