Mark Townsend - Slavetrader's captive

"I don't believe it!" Robert nearly shouted again. "She was brought here from outside the city not more than a couple of hours ago. Tell him that I know she's here!"

Feyadin placed her hand soothingly on his arm and squeezed lightly with her fingers. "I understand how you feel, Robert. But he swears by Mahomet that she's not here – at least not under that name. Perhaps she isn't alone?" she suggested, changing her tone slightly.

"Impossible! We were just married yesterday!" he blurted out. Then suddenly he remembered the sly hint the man at the motel had made. It was just barely possible that Penny had actually been with another man – perhaps she was making a desperate attempt to get back at him for doing and saying those things earlier in the hotel – especially his declaration that he was going out to find a good lay. Suddenly he didn't know what to think any more. "I just don't understand women," he admitted.

Feyadin noticed his sudden uncertainty and leaned over closer to him, her breasts, seemingly inadvertently, brushing against his upper arm. "Let's go away from the desk and talk alone for a minute," she whispered in his ear.

They moved to the other side of the room and she planted herself firmly in front of him, looking sincerely up into his eyes. "I can see that you and your new wife must be having problems," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to say anything over there, but it seems to me that the clerk was hinting that there was a woman who might have been your wife who came in a little over an hour ago – with a Turkish man."

She watched the glowering expression that seemed to close down over his face like a dark cloud. These Americans are so easily swayed in their emotions, she thought. She was glad that he was good looking; it made her job so much more interesting.

"If it's true," Robert began in threatening tones, "just wait till I get my hands on her again!"

"You're tired and upset. Don't come to a hasty decision until you know for sure what's happened," Feyadin tried to calm him. "I have a room here. Why don't you come up and rest, and perhaps I can make some discreet inquiries among the hired help."

Robert felt his shoulders drooping from fatigue and worry, and, not knowing what else to do, he gave in to the light pull she gave his arm and followed her into the hallway. At least I won't be alone for a little while, he consoled himself. He couldn't help but think as he watched her seductively swaying hips in front of him that she seemed more interested in him than just to help find his wife. He hoped so – he would love to get his hands on her appealing young body.

She led him through complicated winding corridors until finally they entered an older part of the hotel. Eventually she stopped outside a door and fumbled for the key hanging from a thin gold chain around her neck. She unlocked the heavy oak door, and Robert followed her inside. He was amazed at the opulent luxury of what seemed to be a large private apartment.

"You like it?" Feyadin asked him, watching his face with interested amusement. It was obvious he had never seen such plushness except in movies. The floor was covered with thick Persian rugs, and all the furniture was upholstered with highly ornate Moroccan leather. The low tables were covered with objects of chased brass and gold left over from wealthier days when sultans ruled the country.

"This is what I call living in style," Robert managed to blurt out. "Are all the rooms here this luxurious?"

Feyadin laughed deep in her throat, a husky sensual sound that made his loins ache with desire. Here was a woman he could really get to like if he were given half a chance.

"No, this is my own special apartment," she answered with pride. "It used to be for a rich man's favorite mistress, but I have lived here nearly five years now."

Robert wondered how a young Turkish girl could afford such an expensive-looking place, but he didn't ask any questions. It was possible that she, too, was able to stay there only because she was the kept woman of a wealthy man, and she might be sensitive about it.

"Make yourself at home," she told him. "I'll be back in a minute." Then she disappeared into another part of the apartment and Robert amused himself by looking over the room. A large water-pipe was near the low-lying couch, and he wondered briefly what, if anything, Feyadin smoked in it. He finally decided it was probably just a decoration. He ran his fingertips over the thick animal skins scattered around on the furniture, enjoying the sensuous quality of the furs.

Before long he began to wonder what was taking her so long and sat down on one of the divans. He suddenly realized just how tired he was and leaned back to rest his eyes. For a moment he lay there letting his mind go blank, but then again he found himself wondering about his lovely young bride. He hoped that she was all right and wished vaguely that he had been able to catch up with her before this. Then he was suddenly annoyed with her again for disappearing like that, and after deciding that he had done as much as he could for now, he relaxed and dropped off into a light sleep.

In another part of the huge hotel, Penny was slowly recovering from the effects of the drugs Osman had put into her drink earlier. Nisli had turned her unconscious form over to an old woman-servant who was plying the dazed young wife with thick black coffee while she lay soaking in a sunken marble bath filled with hot water and perfumed oils. She felt completely drained and utterly exhausted. However, the groggy blonde was slowly beginning to return from the hazy dream world, where she had been lost for what seemed an eternity, back to the world of reality. The hot coffee and the warm water were helping to revive her, and now that she was regaining consciousness she was becoming more and more aware of her surroundings and beginning to wonder where she was.

The old woman held up a hammered copper coffee pot, but the confused young wife made a sign to show that she had had enough and the servant bowed and silently left the room.

Penny took the opportunity to crane her neck and look around. She was trying to figure out how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was getting into bed back at the motel, and after that it seemed she had been dreaming and dreaming for ages. She couldn't help but recall the previous events that had led to her running away from Robert and the hotel bridal suite, and she wondered about her husband – she felt a little sorry for him. He was probably worried sick. Well, she thought, let him worry. Tomorrow, she would return to their hotel and maybe by then Robert would have learned a lesson. She had decided the whole thing was silly. If only he would try as hard as she would, surely they could work the whole thing out.

She peered curiously from the tub out through the open arched doorway. The building looked like a palace from where she was sitting, and for a split second she considered the possibility that she was still dreaming. Otherwise, how could she explain her presence here? But she could feel the warm wetness of the water on her skin and still taste the cloying sweetness of the coffee in her mouth.

No, she definitely was not dreaming. Then what had happened? Could it be that Robert had found her at the motel, and somehow, without waking her, had moved her to this luxurious palatial apartment? She was suddenly sure that was it, and she was about to call his name, when she heard softly padded footsteps in the other room. That's probably him now, she thought, coming to surprise me with his cleverness at finding me after I ran away without leaving even a note. She smiled to herself and expectantly watched the doorway.

"Hello, my dear. Are you feeling better?" Nisli asked.

Penny gasped and shielded her exposed breasts with her hands, sinking down into the bubble bath as far as she could.