“Where are we to go, Khalid?”
“To a secret little villa that I own along the seacoast. We shall spend our honeymoon there, free of friends and business.” He hurried her out into the cool night, stopping only to retrieve his cloak and to place one of mauve silk, lined in rabbit fur, about her. Before the house stood a great white stallion. Khalid el Bey leapt onto its back and, reaching down, lifted his bride and placed her before him on the saddle.
They rode down into the city and then to the sea, where they followed the beach for several miles. The moon dappled the water. Looking up into the velvety heavens, Skye caught her breath. The stars seemed so big, so near, and she was tempted to reach out and grasp a handful. Nestling in Khalid’s arms, her head against his heart, she felt its sure and steady beat. As they rode she became aware of a familiarity about the roar of the sea and the salty smell of the cool damp air. For some reason these sensations soothed her, though she had no idea why they did. Khalid was silent, and she dared not speak lest she break the spell.
Finally he turned the white stallion from the beach, and she could see the black outline of a building on one of the hills overlooking the sea. As they came closer, Skye saw that it was a large round kiosk. There was a pleasant air about it. Large brass lanterns with hand-blown Venetian globes, their beeswax candles twinking a welcome, hung on either side of the silk-draped entrance.
Khalid el Bey drew rein on his horse, gently deposited his wife on the lawn, and dismounted. “Welcome, my beloved! Welcome to the ‘Pearl Kiosk.’ There are three rooms within—our bedchamber, a bath, and a dayroom. It belongs to you now, Skye, for it is my wedding gift to you.”
She was astounded. His bride’s price to her had been overgenerous, and now he gifted her with even more. She felt quite humble in the light of such great love. Skye suddenly felt her heart contract painfully. Looking up at him, she said, “Khalid, I do care for you, you know. Were you a poor man I should still feel this way, for it is your love for me that warms my heart and soothes my spirit, not the gifts you give me, though I am grateful for them.”
“It is for just that reason that I enjoy giving you things,” he answered her. “You are not a greedy little creature. Come now, sweetness, let us go in, for the night grows cool. Are you not the least bit curious to see your new gift?”
The doorway of the Pearl Kiosk was hung with multicolored diaphanous silks and in the entry hall was a long, narrow reflecting pool. Looking up, Skye caught her breath, for in the roof above the pool was a glass ceiling that matched the pool in size and shape. Therefore, the still surface of the pool now appeared to be filled with twinkling stars. The foyer was lit by gold and crystal lamps similar to those on the front of the building.
They first moved through a doorway on their left, where Skye found a beautiful dayroom with a fireplace that blazed merrily, takingthe dampness from the air. The floor was lush with thick rugs. Colored glass lamps hung on thin chains from the gilded and beamed ceiling. Overstuffed furniture and pillows were covered in the finest silks and velvets, the colors like jewels—ruby, sapphire, emerald, amethyst, and topaz. The windows that faced the landside were small hand-blown rounds of pale-amber glass. There were low tables of inlaid mosaic tile and great brass bowls filled with red and yellow tulips. One small wall had a built-in bookcase filled with leatherbound volumes, the sight of which brought a glad cry to her lips.
“So,” chuckled Khalid el Bey, “my good secretary, Jean, was not wrong. Youcanread. In what languages, my beloved?”
She looked a trifle shamefaced. “Jean seemed so horrified that I could read that I did not wish you to know. I wandered into your library one day and, seeing the books, I picked one up and opened it. It was French. I find that I am also able to read Spanish, Italian, Latin, and the language Jean calls English.” She hung her head and said hesitantly, “I appear to possess another rather unfeminine trait. It seems I also write.”
Khalid el Bey burst into laughter. “Marvelous, my Skye! Simply marvelous! It seems that you are a very intelligent woman, and while most men might be shocked to find themselves with such a wife, I am not. The ways of Allah are indeed mysterious. I originally intended to make you my most famous whore, but now I find you are educated, so, beloved, I shall instead make you my partner! When we return to the city I shall teach you myself, and Jean will aid me. Should anything ever happen to me, no one will ever be able to cheat you.” He swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “What a delight you are, Skye!” he chuckled, and she felt warm and safe and very much loved. His amber-gold eyes twinkled. “We have yet to see our nuptial chamber,” he murmured, carrying her from the richly appointed dayroom across the foyer. He pushed open the carved and gilded double doors.
The room into which they now entered had walls painted to resemble an oasis, with graceful palms, the mysterious desert dunes beyond, and above, on the ceiling, the wonderful black velvet North African sky had been recreated, complete with twinkling stars done in gold luminescent paint. Skye would discover that in the sunlight the false night sky was actually bright blue and that the stars were not visible at all. To continue the illusion, the rugs were of thick gold and cream wool, large potted green palms were placedstrategically around the room, and the bed was partially draped to resemble a tent canopy. The room was very softly lit by tall lamps that resembled lotus flowers and burned scented oils.
Without a word he slid the sleeveless violet bodice from her. Then his hands pushed the pantaloons over her hips and, when she had stepped from them and pushed the little mass of silk away with her foot, he slid to his knees. She stood still while his elegant hands fondled her breasts. Then, moving to grasp her by the waist, he covered her torso in hot kisses. She caught at his head and pressed it against her wildly fluttering belly. The time for words was long past. For a moment he simply knelt there enjoying the silken feel of her wonderful skin, then swiftly standing he stripped off his own clothes and they walked to the bed.
It was the beginning of an incredible week. Skye had never been loved so tenderly, so passionately, so expertly, so completely. There was not a part of her he did not explore and worship, and he encouraged her to do the same with his body. Gradually she lost her shyness, became bold and caressed him in subtle ways that left him moaning. They made love in the early hours of the dawn, in the heat of the afternoon, in the dark of night. They swam naked in the foaming azure sea. They hunted antelope from horseback with their hunting cats, beautifully trained panthers, loping by their sides. Another discovery had been made by then—Skye could ride astride quite expertly. Once again he gifted her, this time with an exquisite golden Arab mare.
In the time they spent at the Pearl Kiosk they were provided for and waited on by an army of invisible servants who saw to every need. Delicious meals magically appeared, as did fresh clothes. When they desired to hunt, their horses and cats awaited them at the Kiosk front. Hot, scented baths were ready upon their return. Everything was done to make this time together perfect.
On the night before their return she lay half awake, exhausted by their lovemaking, content to listen to Khalid’s even breathing. Suddenly she was aware that she had never been so happy. He surrounded her with love, security, everything she could want. Why was it, then, that she could still not give him her heart?
They rode back into the city of Algiers on the following morning. They were dressed identically in white. The sleek black panthers were by their sides, leashed, but nonetheless causing a stir as they moved through the crowded streets of the lower city. That same day, when they had resettled themselves, Khalid el Bey took his wife into the library where Jean sat working.
“Ho, Jean! I bring you a pupil.”
The little Frenchman looked up with a smile. “Welcome home, my lord Khalid! Welcome home, my lady Skye! Who is to be my pupil, and in what?”
“I want you to teach the lady Skye the intricacies of my business. Should something ever happen to me she would be helpless without a thorough knowledge of it. Since she can already read, write, and speak in four languages it should not prove difficult as long as she can grasp simple mathematics.”
“What are mathematics?” asked Skye.
“Here, mistress,” Jean wrote a simple sum on a parchment. “If you take one hundred dinars and add to them another fifty dinars you have—”
“One hundred and fifty dinars,” replied Skye, “and by the same token if you have one hundred and fifty dinars and take or subtract from them seventy-five dinars you will have remaining seventy-five.”
The two men looked at each other in complete surprise, and Skye said, “Is that not correct, Khalid? Have I made an error?”
“No, my Skye, you have not made an error. You are quick and quite correct, is she not, Jean?”
“Indeed, my lord. Indeed!”
The bey laughed. “I think I leave you in good hands, my love. Do not be too hard on my good Jean, for he is invaluable to me.” Khalid walked from the room, laughing softly to himself.
Skye seated herself demurely at the library table and looked expectantly at Jean, who was suddenly a little fearful that he had that rarest of creatures on his hands—an intelligent woman. Drawing a deep breath, he plunged into the business at hand.
For the next few weeks Skye spent most of her days with Khalid and Jean, closeted in the library, and she suddenly understood the true nature of her husband’s business. She was shocked for a while. Then, realizing that Khalid had not invented prostitution, she accepted it.
