“Well?”
He saw no hope for it and continued in the most expressionless of voices, “Khar El-Din had purchased a young virgin from the Caucasus, captured by the Turks and sold at auction for an incredible sum. The pirate had such lust for her that he did not allow her time to forget her humiliation and accept him as her master, and as a result, she fought him like a tigress. He became obsessed with her, though each night he had to struggle with her to possess her. At the time I was visiting, she had been with him for some three months, and he confided to me that he was at his wits’ end. To Khar El-Din, a woman’s capitulation and pleasure at his hands was a point of honor, and he was so vexed he was considering having her throat slit. When I had the temerity to intercede for Joseph, Khar El-Din came up with a most ingenious wager.”
“Yes?”
“I would spend one night with the girl with Khar El-Din watching. If I could bring her to pleasure, Joseph would be freed. If I did not succeed, then it would be I who would wield the knife.”
He eyed Cassie closely at this disclosure and saw to his delight that her lips had tightened into a thin line. “I take it,” she said, “that you succeeded, my lord.”
“Yes, I succeeded, much to Joseph’s relief, I might add.”
“I don’t suppose,” Cassie said, amazed at the cold anger she felt, “that the girl’s name was Zabetta.”
He grinned at her, and Cassie’s hand itched to slap him.
“What a memory you have, cara.”
“And she named you the English stallion.”
“Yes,” he said, modestly.
“Well, I do not think you a stallion, my lord. An ass, perhaps. I am glad that you saved Joseph, though.” She frowned, remembering their confrontation with the pirate. “Khar El-Din did not seem to be such a good friend when he boarded the yacht.”
“Our relationship has deteriorated by the year.”
“Why?”
“Because, Cassandra, Khar El-Din regretted his wager. It would have given him great pleasure to take you from me. If it had not been for your quick wit in taking advantage of his Moslem aversion to madness, he would have exacted a very sweet revenge indeed.”
Cassie was beginning to believe that perhaps she was mad, for a quite inexplicable anger was washing over her. “How much you must have gloated after forcing that girl to pleasure.”
“Actually,” he said with disarming candor, “there have been few times in my life when I was more wishful that I had kept my mouth shut and minded my own affairs. And the point of the wager, cara, was that I was to force her to do nothing.”
“Miserable wretch.” She attacked him, smacking her fists against his chest.
“So my lady wishes to play, does she?”
His laughter rang in her ears. In a very short time, or so it seemed to Cassie, he had stripped off her dressing gown and flung her on her back.
“Our party lasted far too long,” he said, still laughing, and before she knew what he was about, he grasped her legs and pulled them over his shoulders.
“What are you—” The rest of her question remained unspoken as he buried his face in her woman’s softness, holding her hips so firmly in his large hands that she could not move. She felt his tongue, and went limp, a deep groan of pleasure tearing from her throat. His mouth closed over her, lightly caressing her, teasing her, and she gave herself over to him. He straightened, her legs still upon his shoulders, and slowly thrust his full length into her. She cried out, and he quickly eased back, cursing himself. She was too small to hold him thus.
“Oh, please do not.”
“I have no wish to hurt you, cara.”
“You do not hurt me. I will tell you if it is otherwise.”
“By your leave then, my lady.”
When he was again deep within her, he watched her face carefully. While her eyes darkened in pain, he felt her thighs tensing in pleasure.
“I love you, Cassandra,” he said. Her eyes widened, and he thought that her lips moved, but he could not be certain. In the next instant, she was writhing beneath him, pulling them both to release.