Now as he buried his face in her warm breasts, she sighed. Her golden orbs grew hard as his mouth drank first from one and then from the other. His tongue circled the nipples again and again until she begged him to take her. He laughed. Niall had recognized the wanton in her, and now he was curious to see how far he might drive her.
His warm tongue licked her soft, fragrant skin, moving downward from her navel, stopping, then moving up each leg from the knee, stopping again. She thrashed wildly, her blond hair tangling. Fascinated, Niall let his lips and eyes wander to the soft defenses of her womanhood. With gentle fingers he parted the plump folds to stare in fascination as her tender little button grew stiff and throbbing. His mouth fastened about it, and tasted its sweetness.
“Ohhh, dear God, don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”
Twice she climaxed under the ministrations of his demanding mouth. At last, unable to bear much more himself, he drove his root into her warm and fertile body. She cried out her pleasure, wrapping her legs tightly around him, moving fiercely with his rhythm, clawing at his back in her passion as he emptied himself into her.
Rolling off her, he saw that she was in a semiconscious state. He gathered her into his arms gently so that her return would be a warm and safe one. He was delighted with this marvelous, passionate creature to whom he was wed. It was almost too good to be true, and yet it was true. He had found the perfect mate, the woman from whose loins the next generation of Burkes would spring. Constanza stirred faintly in his arms. “Good-bye, Skye, my dear true love,” Niall whispered softly, and turned to face his new young wife.
CHAPTER 12
THE WIFE OFKHALID ELBEY WAS THE MOST FAMOUS WOMANin the city of Algiers. Three nights each week she presided, unveiled, over her husband’s banquet table. The all-male guests were shocked at first, but they quickly recovered, for the lady Skye was charming, witty, and gently spoken. It was said that she knew as much about running her husband’s businesses as he did, but no man gave that rumor serious consideration, for it was too absurd. Allah had fashioned women for man’s pleasure, and for birth, but nothing else.
All envied Khalid el Bey his beautiful wife, but none envied him more than Jamil, the captain of the Casbah fort. The Turkish soldier had quite a respectable harem, for he was known to be sexually insatiable. Favors from Captain Jamil were easily bought simply by presenting him with a beautiful, skilled slave. Still, Jamil lusted after Skye, desperate to possess her. She had intrigued him greatly by refusing his overtures. He bribed the women of Skye’s household to smuggle in gifts of jewels, flowers, and comfits. All were returned, their wrapping not even opened. Furious, he managed to separate her from her guests on two occasions, only to be rebuffed, even insulted. Never in his life had Jamil been refused so strongly, and the insult rankled. He was determined to possess Skye.
Tonight he lay sprawled on a couch in the House of Felicity, watching with Yasmin through a two-way mirror. On the other side of the mirror was one of the city’s most respected merchants, who lay naked and tied while two lovely young girls serviced him. One crouched over his head, her plump little pussy rubbing against his open mouth, while the other sucked frantically on the merchant’s small, flaccid manhood. Finally, as their simultaneous efforts resulted in success, the girl at the lower end mounted the man and rode him to glory.
Jamil laughed heartily. “Poor darlings, he’s not worth their effort. Send them both to me later and I’ll reward them with a real workout.”
“I thought you intended spending the night with me,” she pouted. “I do not give my favors to just anyone.”
“Would you deny me an appetizer before a gourmet meal?” he flattered her.
Yasmin almost purred. She enjoyed Jamil. He was the best lover she’d ever had—next to Khalid. Khalid, damn him, had ceased his visits since falling in love with Skye. A look of anger flashed across her beautiful face. Jamil caught it instantly.
“What is it, my pet?” he queried. “You have been increasingly irritable of late. Tell Jamil, and he will make it better.”
She hesitated before admitting, “It is my lord Khalid. He is so changed. I do not know him anymore, and it is all the fault of his wife.”
“She is quite beautiful,” he said wickedly. “But of course, I do not know her.”
“I wish to Allah she were dead! Then my lord Khalid would come to me again.”
“Perhaps,” he mused, “it could be arranged, my dear.” He continued smoothly despite her startled look. “Of course, I should expect certain remunerations from you for my help. But what difference should the death of one woman make to anyone? Especially a woman with no memory, no powerful connections.”
Yasmin was fascinated in spite of herself. “But, how?” she asked.
“If I wanted someone dead I should chose the time and place carefully, and then I should wield the blade myself. The fewer people involved the better, would you not say? Who would suspect you if we were seen to enter your chambers together on the night in question?”
“When, Jamil? When?”
He smiled. “Tomorrow night, my dear Yasmin. The sooner the better. I shall send a message to Khalid el Bey asking that he meet me at the Casbah fort. Afterward I shall simply deny that I sent any message. You and I shall be seen entering your rooms. I shall stay the night. You will slip out and walk to Khalid el Bey’s house. Enter through the garden. The lady Skye should be alone, possibly even sleeping. Strike quickly, check to be sure you have succeeded, then leave.”
“Why are you so willing to help me?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.
“We are friends, Yasmin. Khalid’s woman means nothing to me, but you do. If my plan seems harsh, my dear, you need not act on it. The choice is yours.”
“No! You are, as always, Jamil, direct and to the point. I will do it!”
The captain smiled toothily as Yasmin rose. She said, “I will send the two girls you desire to the baths and then to you. From this night on, anything you want in the House of Felicity is yours.”
Jamil could not believe either his luck or Yasmin’s gullibility. He would have to work quickly now. The slave-spy he had placed in Khalid el Bey’s house would have to be informed and instructed in two tasks. The first would be to give the bey a sleeping draught in his wine so that he would retire early. Then the slave would tell Skye that a man claiming to know something of her past was at the front gate asking to see her. This would keep Skye out of the house while Yasmin entered the darkened sleeping chamber. She would kill the bey believing it was Skye.
He chuckled wickedly, well pleased with himself. His spy would be a tongueless mute soon after the murder and could not implicate him. In fact, he would see the hapless creature sold off. As for Yasmin … well, the penalty for murder was rather severe. A killer was tortured first and then thrown from the city walls onto the iron spikes that studded the walls. Sometimes a prisoner could linger for several days. Strangely, the women were the longest-lived. It would be interesting to see how long Yasmin would last.
Naturally, Jamil would offer his strong arm and protection to the grieving widow. The grieving rich and beautiful young widow, he amended his thoughts. An idea struck him. Perhaps he would marry Skye. He need not remain the Sultan’s captain-governor of the Casbah fort forever. He could as easily retire here in Algiers as anywhere else. Besides, Skye would need someone to run Khalid el Bey’s various business interests. Jamil had never had a wife, but with the bey’s wealth in his pocket he could afford four wives as well as a fine harem. With unlimited money a man might have anything he desired. Jamil sighed, musing on the pleasure and wealth Khalid el Bey’s death would bring him. To be sure, he would be losing a good and interesting friend, but that could not be helped.
His thoughts were interrupted by the entry of the two girls who had earlier entertained the merchant. Giggling nervously, for they knew his reputation, they knelt submissively at his feet.
