Iris Johansen - The Treasure

“The child may not really be his aim.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “He knows the tower will bring back memories of the old life. He knows that I don’t treat you as other women. If he forces me to treat you in that manner in that chamber, it will be a victory for him. He may think it will draw me further along the dark path.”

“Dear God, he’s a devil,” she whispered.

“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-”