The Treasure (7 page)

“Yes.”

“And I’m to be the pawn in this battle between you.” Her eyes blazed at him. “I
won’t
be a pawn. I won’t do this.”

“Very well. Then at nightfall tomorrow, we won’t go to the tower.”

“And what will happen?”

“He’ll send a man to get you and I’ll kill him. He’ll send two and I’ll kill them too.” He added quietly, “But I cannot fight all of them, Selene. Eventually they will kill me.”

“Nasim wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Perhaps they’d not mean to kill me, but I’m very good. They’d have to kill me to take you against your will.”

He meant it. “No, you should let them take me. Coupling is nothing. It would bring them no victory.”

“Perhaps not.” He added simply, “But I could not bear it.”

And he would die trying to prevent it, she realized in agony. “Is there no way to stop this? What if we go to the tower room and do nothing?”

He shook his head. “There’s a peephole in the chamber next door that allows Nasim to observe when he wishes.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve watched too. Many times. Sometimes watching is exciting.”

Heat stung her cheeks as she envisioned Kadar’s gaze on naked, writhing—“You’re as depraved as that wicked old man,” she said tartly.

“In this, I may have been more depraved. That’s why he wants to lure me back to the sport.”

“Sport? With women as prey?”

He swore softly, “What do you wish me to say? Yes, I was hunter and women were prey. But I’ve never treated you as prey.”

“But Nasim hopes you will.”

“Of course, and I won’t lie to you. I don’t know how I’ll use you if you agree to Nasim’s demand. It’s too easy to lose control in the tower room.”

“And satisfy that hideous man?”

“And satisfy myself. I probably wouldn’t be aware of Nasim or anyone else.” He fell to his knees and curled up on his pallet on the floor. “There’s no value in talking any more. I’ve given you your choice. Think about it and give me your decision in the morning.”

Choice? What choice? Kadar’s death or letting him have her body. She slipped into bed, pulled her gown over her head, and tossed it on the floor. Not only letting him have her body but having that loathsome old man watching them . . .

Her gaze went to Kadar on the hearth. His eyes were closed, but he was not asleep. She always knew when slumber took him from her.

Took him from her.

The thought had come out of nowhere. No one could take what was not hers, and she had rejected him. Thinking of Kadar in that manner was merely habit. They were not joined. She belonged only to herself, and so did he.

But if she went to the tower room, they would be joined in body if not in spirit. He would enter her as he did on that last night at Montdhu. He would touch her and ignite that odd, searing excitement.

But that excitement had not lasted long, and when he had left her body she was still Selene. The world had not changed because they had coupled.

But the world could change if Kadar was killed because she would not couple with him. If it meant so little, why was she refusing?

Because she feared getting closer to him in any manner, feared that the bond she had broken would mend itself. Well, then she would have to reinforce the barriers she had raised, because she could not face the alternative.

“Kadar.”

“Yes.”

“I will go with you to the tower room.”

She saw his muscles stiffen, but he made no response.

“But it must stop as soon as we see a way out.”

“What if you decide you don’t want it to stop?”

“I won’t do that.”

He turned his back to her. “Tell me that after a week in the tower room.”

The smell was sweet, musky, vaguely familiar, and coming from the tower room. Selene paused before she reached the top step. “What is that scent?”

“Hashish. Do you know what it is?”

“It smells . . . familiar.”

“It should. Nicholas offered me hashish when I was at the House of Silk. He smoked it on occasion. It’s said to relax and heighten sensation.”

“Did you take it?”

“No, I was there to buy you. I had to keep my wits, and I knew what hashish could do to a man.” He stopped before the heavy oak door. “Nasim keeps it burning in a copper brazier here. You cannot help but breathe it in. It’s not as potent as smoking it from a pipe, but it will affect you.”

“How?”

“It relaxes, increases sensuality, makes everything more vivid.” He looked down at her. “Are you ready to go in?”

“No.” Her hand was shaking as she reached past him and opened the door. “But I won’t be any better later.” She walked into the chamber. “If it must be done, let’s do it and get it over.”

The chamber was round and surprisingly luxurious compared to the austerity of the rest of the castle. Only two candles lit the dimness of the room, but she could see richly patterned rugs warming the coldness of the stone floor; a tapestry portraying a lion hunt in the desert occupied the wall across from the door, and two divans heaped with silk pillows were set facing each other in the center of the room. “It doesn’t look like a room that belongs in this castle.” Her gaze was drawn to the far corner and the large copper brazier Kadar had mentioned. “I think I’m getting used to it. I don’t smell it anymore.”

“I do.” He reached out and unfastened her cloak. It slipped from her shoulders to the floor. “Undress.”

She stood unmoving. “Is he watching us?”

He was swiftly disrobing. “Probably.”

“From where?”

“The tapestry. The lion’s eyes.”

She wheeled to face the tapestry. In the dimness she couldn’t discern anything but an outline of the lion. “Are you sure he’s there?”

“No, but I’m sure he’ll be there sometime tonight.”

Nasim was there, watching. Now she could see a moist glittering where the lion’s eye should be. The helplessness she felt suddenly changed to fury. She would not let him win this victory. “I don’t care. Do you hear me, Nasim? I’m not doing this because you force me. This is by
my
will.” She pulled her gown over her head and kicked off her sandals. “I feel no shame. The shame is yours. Watch all you please, you foul old man.”

“Selene.” Kadar was behind her. His hands fell on her naked shoulders. Warm, hard hands that sent a shock through her.

She whirled and buried her head in his chest. The dark triangle of hair felt springy against her cheek. “I hate this,” she whispered. “He makes me so angry I want to punch a stick through that tapestry right into his eye.”

“Ignore him.” He lifted her head and looked into her eyes. “Or show him that he truly has no power over this.”

“Of course he does. I was lying.”

“Then make it truth.” His head lowered slowly until he was only an inch away. His tongue touched her lower lip. “Help me and I promise you’ll forget he’s watching.”

Her lip felt strange under the warm moistness of his tongue; heavy, swollen. Her breasts, pressed against him, were beginning to feel the same heaviness. “What do you want me to do?”

“Be at ease. Relax.” He pulled her closer, his hands sliding around to knead her back. “It will be easier if you—”

“You’re not relaxed.” She could feel his arousal pressing against her, hard, demanding.

“I don’t have to be. You’ll recall, it’s vitally necessary that I’m not.”

His hands slipped down to cup her buttocks. “I’m going to lift you. Put your limbs about my hips.”

“Why—” She instinctively clasped him with her legs as he sank deep within her. Her eyes closed and she lost her breath. The sensation was tight, stretched, hot. “What a peculiar—” He was walking. She grabbed hold of him. “Where are—”

“Here.” He pressed her back against the tapestry. “Nasim can’t see here. Only straight ahead.”

Nasim. She should be grateful he couldn’t see, but she couldn’t seem to think. She was only aware of Kadar inside her and the soft tapestry against her buttocks.

And then she was aware of nothing but sensation, as Kadar began to lunge in and out of her with frantic force.

Need. More. Move.

She was making soft, frantic cries deep in her throat as the fever grew.

He reached between them, his thumb seeking, finding.

Her teeth bit into his shoulder to stifle a scream as his thumb pressed, teased, rotated. “Ah, you like it?”

She couldn’t answer. The muscles of her belly were tensing and releasing with every movement, and the tension was mounting, growing.

“Kadar, it’s—”

“I know.” His hand left her and he was driving harder, faster. “Let it go,” he said through his teeth. “I’m trying, but I don’t know if—”

Release. More fiery and climactic than anything that had gone before. She clutched him tighter. Tears streamed down her face.

“Good,” he gasped. “Oh, God.” He plunged to the quick.

She was vaguely aware of him shuddering, flexing within her, as she desperately held on to him.

His chest was laboring as he fought for breath. “Are you all right? Did I—hurt you?”

She didn’t know if she was all right or not. She felt as if she had been through a storm that had uprooted everything she knew and tossed it to the winds.

“Selene?”

“Not hurt. I’m—It was—”

“Hush. It will be fine soon.” He left her body and shifted his hold. He was carrying her toward the divan.

Softness beneath her. Kadar beside her, cradling her.

“Before it was pleasant,” she whispered. “That was not—pleasant. It felt—I was not myself. I didn’t know it would be like that.”

“No,
pleasant
isn’t the word. Much too tame.” He brushed his lips across hers. “But I think your pleasure was as intense as mine.”

Yes, it had been pleasure, she realized. The sensation had been so intense that it had been hard to identify. “Will it be like that again? Is that what you feel all the time?”

“The pleasure is deeper with you.” He cupped her breast. “But it will be like that again every time.”

“Then I can see why you rutted with every woman in Scotland.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad for your understanding.” He bent and ran his tongue over her nipple. “But I fear you’ve spoiled me for other women.”

Her breast was swelling beneath his touch and she could feel a tingling between her thighs. “Are we going to—”

“Soon. But the urgency is gone.” His fingers were delving between her thighs. “I thought we’d play a little first.”

“Play?” At Nicholas’s there was no play. The coupling she had watched was quick, brutal, and then the man left the house of women as if his partner no longer existed. “What are you going to—”

She arched upward with a cry as his fingers entered her and began to move. “You see?” Kadar whispered. “Play, Selene.”

“You’re very good at this,” Selene said drowsily as she cuddled closer. “I believe I approve of your apprenticeship at that house in Damascus.”

“I’m glad.” He brushed the top of her head with his lips. “At least one episode in my iniquitous past meets with your approval.”

“But just because I liked it doesn’t mean anything has changed. It merely makes this . . . tolerable.”

“Very tolerable.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“I wouldn’t presume.”

A sudden thought struck her. Nasim. She had completely forgotten him. She glanced beyond Kadar’s shoulder at the tapestry. “Is he still there?”

“No, not for hours.”

She was indifferent, she realized in surprise. Kadar was right; by not allowing Nasim to matter, they had won a victory.

“How do you know?”

“I always feel when he’s near.”

That terrible dark bonding between them. “When we were coupling?”

“No, not then.” He chuckled. “I feel nothing but you.”

“That’s good.” She relaxed against him again. “Should we go now?”

“Not until dawn. Are you not comfortable?”

Too comfortable. She was enveloped in a lazy haze of contentment. Strange to remember how nervous and fearful she had been when they opened that door those many hours ago. “Is it that hashish that makes me feel so happy?”

“Partly.” His arm tightened around her. “Only partly.”

He meant it was also because they were together. She shook her head. “It doesn’t change—”

“Hush.” Two fingers touched her lips. “Rest now. I wish to show you one more road to pleasure before we leave here.”

“Another? I didn’t dream there were so many.”

“Did I forget to tell you of the whore from India who claimed that there were over a hundred ways of pleasure?”

“I think she lied. It’s not possible.” She yawned. “And I’m too tired.”

“Then sleep.” His voice was a deep, soothing murmur in her ear. “I’ll wake you at dawn.”

She nodded, nestling her cheek against his shoulder.

“Or before.” He whispered, “For she did not lie, Selene.”

“YOU LOOK . . . ROBUST.” Haroun tilted his head, studying her.

“Do I?” Selene moved her bishop.

“You have fine color. I cannot see how this foul place can so agree with you.” The “fine” color deepened. “It does not agree with me. I hate it.”

“So do I.”

She glanced up from the chessboard. “Has it been very hard for you these last weeks?”

“Not hard. You are kind, and Lord Kadar lets me go riding with him every day.” He bit his lower lip. “But it’s an evil place. I wish we could go home to Montdhu.”

Poor Haroun. Why had she not noticed his distress and been more sympathetic?

Foolish question. She had been aware of little going on around her. It was as if during the day she existed in a silken cocoon, sewing, spending time with Haroun, and . . . waiting.

Waiting for the moment when Kadar would hold out his hand and they would walk up the curving stairs.

When she would shed her gown and go into his arms.

When he would show her another way to pleasure.

“Lady Selene,” Haroun prompted, gazing at her in puzzlement. Oh, God, she must look as weak-kneed and meltingly soft as she felt. She hurriedly lowered her gaze to the chessboard. “Your move.”

“I already moved.”

“Oh, I see you did.” What was wrong with her? She felt as if she were seeing, feeling everything through a veil.

Everything but Kadar.

Kadar was holding out his hand.

“We should talk,” she said.

“Later. It’s almost nightfall.”

Nightfall. The tower. Pleasure.

Instinctively she rose to her feet.

He took her hand. “Come.”

He was smiling, but she could feel the tension in his body. It was as strong as the tension that gripped her own. Her breasts were swelling and the tingling between her thighs was beginning, although he had done nothing but touch her hand. Sometimes no touch at all was needed. He would look at her and she would be swept away in a storm of sensuality and anticipation.

This was not good. She must force herself to think as well as feel. “I don’t see you anymore during the day. Where do you go?”

“Anywhere.” They began to climb the steps. “Away from you.”

“Why?”

“I find I cannot draw the line at the tower. I can think of little else except coupling. You have to have some rest.”

She lost her breath. “I do not think this . . . healthy. I’ve never—Is it Nasim or the hashish?”

He shook his head. “It is the two of us. I always knew it would be this way.”

“It’s madness,” she whispered. She added haltingly, “I can think of little else either. Body should not rule the mind. It must stop.”

“Tomorrow.” He opened the door of the tower room. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Hashish.

Silk.

Mellow candlelight falling on the divan where they took pleasure.

“Yes.” She slowly moved into the chamber. “Tomorrow.”

He smiled. “After all, it’s only pleasure. What harm can—My God.”

Her gaze followed his to the divan. “What is it?”

“Nasim.”

A slender whip with leather thongs lay on the soft cushions.

Kadar walked slowly toward the divan.

“Why is it here?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer. He reached down and picked up the whip.

“Kadar.”

“Get out of here,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Why? What do you mean?”

He whirled toward the tapestry. “By God,
no
, Nasim.”

He hurled the whip at the tapestry.

The next moment he had grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the door. “Out.”

The door slammed behind them and he half-pulled, half-pushed her down the curving staircase. He was cursing softly, venomously.

“What’s happening?”

He paid no attention to her.

She stopped at the foot of the steps. “I’ll not go another step. Tell me.”

He drew a deep breath, struggling for control. “We weren’t proving amusing enough to Nasim. He wanted me to use the whip on you.”

“He wanted to punish me?”

“He didn’t—It’s a form of coupling.”

“What?”

“Sometimes pain increases the intensity.”

She stared at him, shocked. “For you?”

“I’ve never liked it. Even with a woman who did.”

“I cannot believe anyone would like it. As a child I felt the whip often and—”

“I know. Just believe me. Some women do like it.” He pushed her toward the door to her chamber. “Lock the door. I’m going to talk to Nasim.”

She remembered the rage with which he had hurled the whip. “He’ll be angry with you.”

“Yes.” He gave her a nudge. “Go on.”

An angry Nasim would be formidable, and Kadar would bear the brunt of his displeasure. “I’ll let you do it.”

“What?”

She tried to smile. “It won’t be the first time I’ve been beaten. It is nothing. I’ve enjoyed everything else you’ve done to me; perhaps this will not be so—”

“No.” He took a step closer and cupped her face in his hands. He looked down at her with a tenderness that took her breath away. He kissed her forehead. “Absolutely not.” He dusted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Never.”

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away.

“You treated me with disrespect,” Nasim snapped as soon as Kadar walked into the hall. “I should have your throat cut from ear to ear.”

“But then you’d have no one to accomplish your task.”

“I wanted to see how she’d respond to the whip.”

“And I had no desire to use it on her.”

“I
want
it.”

“No.” He held Nasim’s gaze. “I’ve done everything else you’ve asked. I won’t do this.”

For a moment Kadar thought Nasim would persevere, but then Nasim shifted his glance and shrugged. “It is of no importance. I just thought it would be amusing. You’ve done everything else to her.”

“I don’t find it amusing.”

“But you find her amusing,” Nasim said. “She is . . . remarkable. You lied when you said she was of no interest.”

“Every woman is of interest in the tower room.”

“Hashish? I think not.” He smiled. “Do you think you’ve gotten her with child?”

“How should I know? It’s been only a fortnight, and she tells me it’s not time for her flux.” Kadar changed the subject. “And no word from your messenger Fadil?”

“Not yet.”

“Will he come by sea?”

“Yes.” He arched a brow. “You’re so eager to start your journey?”

“A man grows bored without a challenge.”

“Particularly you, Kadar. You always needed to find new ways to negotiate old paths. However, this challenge may prove too much for you.”

“But it will be worth it.” He smiled. “A treasure beyond price.”

Nasim frowned. “My treasure. Don’t forget.
My
treasure.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to remind me.” He turned to leave. “In the meantime, I’ll not return to the tower room. My mind must be clear and I need rest for the journey.”

“It’s true you’ve been very strenuously occupied.” Nasim chuckled. “Very well, I admit you’ve done everything possible to assure that she is with child. You may rest until we see if your seed has taken hold.”

“Many thanks,” Kadar said with irony.

“Impudence.” Nasim gestured a dismissal. “I’m astonished I permit it from you.”

Kadar started to leave.

“But I still think the whip would prove interesting. If she’s not with child, we will try it the next time you go to the tower.”

Kadar didn’t bother to argue. Nasim always had to win, but Kadar had bought a delay. By the time the issue emerged again, the messenger might have arrived.

Now he must consider what action to take when that occurred.

“What happened?” Selene asked as soon as she unlocked and threw open the door.

“Nothing of importance.” Kadar came into the chamber. “We no longer have to go to the tower. At least, not for a while.”

Shock and another emotion less identifiable surged through her. “Why not?”

He smiled crookedly. “I pleaded weariness. He doesn’t want me to be overtired when I start my journey.”

“Has the messenger arrived?”

“Not yet.” He pulled his mantle over his head and walked naked to the pallet. “Nasim said we will wait until we see if you’re with child. If you’re not, we must return to the tower room.”

“I see.” She moved slowly across the room toward the bed. It was the first time since they had started going to the tower that she had thought of the possibility of a child. The pleasure of the act itself had overwhelmed all else. “What if I am?”

“We must hope you aren’t. The tower room is the lesser danger.”

“We may not know for a while. My flux is often late.” She took off her gown, blew out the candle, and climbed into bed.

A child . . .

She lay staring into the darkness. She had thought only of the danger of refusal, not of the babe itself. A child born of Kadar and her. Perhaps a boy like Thea’s babe, Niall. Gurgling laughter, soft, and silken smooth as—

A baby Nasim would either take or kill.

Panic soared through her. A child born in this dark place and taken from her. Nasim would—

“For God’s sake, stop shaking.” Kadar was sitting on the bed beside her.

How had he known she was shaking from across the room? But Kadar always knew. She reached out and clutched his hands. “I won’t let him take my baby,” she said fiercely. “He can’t have it.”

“We don’t know that you—”

“I don’t care. I’ll kill him before I let him—”

“Shh.” He lifted the covers and slipped into bed beside her. “It will never happen.” He gathered her into his arms. “I promise you he’ll never touch any child of ours.”

A little of her terror eased. “It’s just . . . I never thought of it before. The possibility seemed so far away. . . .” And now it was too close. A week or two and she would know if—

“Will you stop trembling?” he said gruffly. “You’re tearing me apart. I’ve never seen you this frightened.”

“It’s not for me. It’s the babe. We had no right. A babe is helpless and cannot—”

“But we’re not helpless. If necessary, we can protect him.” He held her closer. “Now forget this and go to sleep.”

Yes, he was right. They could protect their child. Kadar and she could do anything together. She relaxed against him even as she said, “You shouldn’t be in my bed. You said Nasim would know . . .”

“Nasim may go to hell.”

“He would be at home there.” She was silent for a moment, thinking. “I’ll not stay here without you.”

“I never intended to leave you or Haroun here.”

“Then what will we do?”

“Would it be too much to ask you to stop worrying and leave the matter to me?”

“Yes. I can’t stop worrying.” She paused. “But you know Nasim better than I do. I will listen to your suggestions.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She yawned. “Now I’m going to sleep. It seems I haven’t had a good slumber in—”

“Weeks?” Kadar chuckled. “I wonder why?”

She didn’t want to think of the reason why, nor of the sensual, passionate Kadar of the tower room. Right now she felt comfortable and treasured and safe. “You know why. Please have the courtesy to stop talking about it.”

He brushed his lips across the top of her head. “Yes, my lady. Anything you command. Whatever you wish.”

Not very likely, she thought drowsily, but she was too tired to refute him. She would tell him tomorrow that never in their acquaintance had she had everything entirely as she . . .

______

She slept so soundly she didn’t hear the thundering at the door a few hours later.

She lifted her head drowsily as Kadar slipped from the bed. “What is it?”

Kadar didn’t answer as he moved across the room and threw open the door.

Nasim strode into the chamber.

Selene hurriedly sat, jerking the cover up to cover her breasts.

A futile effort. She might as well have been invisible for all the attention Nasim paid her.

“My messenger has come.” The old man set the candle on the nightstand, his dark eyes glittering with excitement. “By Allah, I was sure he’d be sent back to me in pieces, but he came riding in only an hour ago. You must set out at once.”

“May I clothe my nakedness first?” Kadar asked dryly as he pulled his tunic over his head. “And who is chopping up your messengers?”

“Tarik. He guards the treasure. A clever, dangerous man.” He smiled grimly as he watched Kadar slip on his shoes. “And he does not like my people.”

“How many have you sent?”

“Five over the past twelve years. My most clever and talented of assassins. This is the only man who has ever returned.” He frowned. “I have to wonder why he was permitted to come back unscathed.”

“Perhaps this Tarik is no longer as formidable as he was once. Men weaken as years pass.”

“Tarik would not weaken. You’ll still find him most formidable.”

“If he let your messenger return, it could be he found him more than he could deal with. Send Fadil back to get your treasure.”

“Fadil is good, but he’s no match for Tarik. I would be a match for him. No one else.” He paused. “Except you.”

“Then you’d better break your silence and tell me where I’m going to find this treasure.” Kadar was at the washbasin, splashing water in his face. “And how you think I’m going to accomplish this.”