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Jennifer Colgan: The Concubine’s Tale

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Separated in time. United by forbidden passion… When an ancient papyrus scroll comes up for auction, gallery curator Cait Lang draws the distasteful task of notifying her boss’s favorite client, Grant Pierson. The rare art and antiquities collector’s arrogance grates on her nerves, but most of all she resents her own weakness for his athletic body and deep brown eyes. It’s the hieroglyphic scroll that draws Grant to a private, after-hours showing at the gallery. But the lovely Cait’s narration of the erotically charged story captures his interest. Determined to hear the rest of the tale-and spend more time in Cait’s company-he convinces her to join him for dinner. The intricate, sensual tale transports Cait’s and Grant’s imaginations into the past. And the depictions of sexually charged temple rituals inspire them to explore their own hidden passions-in Cait’s apartment. Even as Grant succumbs to Cait’s charms, the drive to own the scroll hums in the back of his mind. If he isn’t careful, though, he’ll not only lose the chance to hear the end of the story, he’ll lose something more precious. The missing piece of his own life-Cait.

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Nayari leaned closer to the next pictograph. This was a portrait of the god, a tall man with a beautiful face and a strong physique. Protruding from his waist at the juncture of his closed legs was the longest, straightest erection Nayari had ever seen.

He held his arrow-like member in one hand and pointed it at a group of worshippers who offered him sheaves of wheat in return for his blessing.

The paintings and carvings held Nayari’s attention and made her think of Ammonptah. Her master was the only man she’d ever seen in such a state of arousal, and his penis was certainly no match for that of the god.

Warmth rose to her cheeks when she found herself wondering if Ammonptah’s member was normal or unusually small for a man of his age and stature. She thought of the warrior, with his bulging muscles and glistening dark skin, and wondered if his cock might look more like Min’s, long and straight and powerful.

“You’ll sleep here.” One of the women gestured Nayari into a small room set off the corridor at the back of the temple. “We will bring you food and help you bathe.”

“When will Ammonptah be coming?” she asked in a hushed voice. While she respected the sanctity of the temple, Nayari’s insides trembled at the thoughts she’d been having about the warrior. She covered her mouth with her fingers, as if that might quiet the giddiness in her voice.

“We will inform you,” the other woman responded. “Rest now.”

Nayari turned to survey her quarters and frowned. The small bed held rough blankets and a thin mattress. She sniffed at the musty odor of it. An oil pot sat on a ledge carved into the far wall, and a small wick burned within it. The rushes on the floor looked wilted as though they’d not been changed before her arrival.

This is only temporary, she told herself with a sigh. Ammonptah will be here soon.


Cait looked up from her dessert, a decadent chocolate confection laced with liquor-soaked fruit. She felt Nayari’s anticipation and her fear, wondering if her master would come for her and see that she was properly blessed by the fertility god, and at the same time entertaining forbidden thoughts about the dark warrior.

Grant filled her wine glass and studied her intently. His gaze was languid and warm. “What was the warrior doing while she waited in her little temple room?”

Gaining control over her emotions, Cait smiled wickedly and took another succulent bite of dessert. “He was thinking about her and trying not to betray the trust Ammonptah had put in him.”

“He wanted her.”

Cait nodded. “The sultry atmosphere of the temple didn’t help. The rites of Min were thought to be quite explicit.”

Grant leaned closer again, and Cait floated on the heady scent of his cologne. She smiled when he loosened his tie and wondered if the rest of her tale would have a greater effect on him.

“The warrior took up his post outside of Nayari’s room as he’d been instructed. Only a woven screen covered the doorway, so he could hear what went on inside. The women returned to bathe her, and his imagination ran wild. By the time he encountered Nayari again, he was half out of his mind with desire.”


When the female acolytes returned, they brought a bowl of perfumed water, cloths to bathe her, and a tray of bread and roasted meat.

Nayari helped herself to some of the food while the women unlaced her sandals and removed her belt. She sighed as they bathed her feet and legs, and the glorious scent of jasmine enveloped her and calmed her rattled nerves. She lay back against one woman while the other opened the top of her dress and rubbed a fine cloth over her arms and her breasts.

“Ammonptah will be pleased,” Nayari murmured, trying to keep her thoughts centered on her master. It was difficult, with the sensual feel of the cool cloth riding over her skin, to think of her master’s touch. His hurried movements during the times she’d been called to his service always made her wonder if he truly enjoyed coupling, or if it was more of a chore for him, as it often was for her.

If Ammonptah had ever touched her like this, bathed her, smoothed her hair, she might long for him now, not as the man who owned her and had the power to send her back home where she belonged, but the man she loved and wanted. Once again, unbidden, her thoughts turned to the warrior. His hands were twice the size of Ammonptah’s, rough from hard work and dark from days spent under the sun. Together his hands could span her waist, and she had no doubt his arms could lift her without effort to settle her over his cock. He could hold her hips in his hands, his long fingers inching between her buttocks as she rode him-

“You’re trembling,” one of the women said with a light laugh. “And look, Min calls to you.”

Nayari’s face burned when she realized her nipples stood hard and erect. She hastily pulled her dress up around her. “Leave me. I’ll await Ammonptah alone.”

“Of course.” The women bowed and left with knowing smiles. They took the bathing water with them, but left the remains of the food. Nayari stared at it and willed herself to take another bite, but her appetite had fled.

Perhaps someone else might want the food. It would only attract flies if left in her room all night. Carefully, she lifted the heavy tray and padded barefoot across the floor. She turned and let herself out of the room, backside first to push the reed mat out of the way. When she collided with a warm body, she nearly dropped the tray.

She whirled around and glared up into the face of the warrior. He gave her a curious shrug. “The food isn’t to your liking?” he asked.

“I…was going to give it to the oxen.” She raised her head in defiance of his tone, but then shifted her arms to cover her chest, aware that her strange excitement still showed in the hard peaks of her nipples that raised the thin fabric of her dress. A cool current of air stirred the hem of her skirt, and a tingle raced up her legs to her inner thighs.

“The oxen have plenty of food,” he said. His voice rumbled in his chest, and he stared over her head as if he wished to avoid looking at her.

“Then perhaps you would like it.”

“The priests have brought me food.”

Nayari sighed. “Then take it away before it rots.”

Now his gaze dropped to hers, and she held herself still under his blazing scrutiny. “I am not a maidservant,” he said.

“Neither am I.”

Their gazes held, battled for a moment, and Nayari swore a faint smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I’ll alert the acolytes. Go inside and wait for them to return.”

Nayari wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. She leaned back against the cold stone wall and looked up at him. With his arms crossed over his chest and his brows lowered over those onyx-colored eyes, he looked far more imposing than a god. She should have cowered in fear, but instead he made her feel strong and defiant. She had absolute certainty he would never harm her, even if she provoked him.

“Where is Ammonptah? Please tell me.”

“I do not know.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I don’t. He merely-”

Nayari stepped forward, craning her neck to meet his gaze. “He what?”

“Gave me instructions to follow, and that’s what I will do. That and nothing more.”

“Tell me your name.”

“No.”

Annoyed beyond reason, Nayari whirled around and flung herself back into her room. She plunked the tray onto the shelf and fell into the bed, which creaked under her meager weight. The musty odor of it crawled into her nose, pushing aside the sweet smell of flowers that had lingered on her skin since her bath. How would that do? she thought. To smell of mold when Ammonptah came to claim her would be unseemly. He would be angry with the priests and acolytes for not taking proper care of his property.

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