The layers of clothing she wore consisted of the finest, most transparent silks, and the thrusting shape of her full breasts was clearly visible, as were their hard, stained points. Her eyes were kohled, her lips rouged, and her long hair flowed like black satin to her waist. She pouted and shifted her hips. Her gold belt trailed a gold chain that drew attention to the juncture between her thighs. “Jebal, surely you are not still angry with me for something I did not do?”
He stared up at her. “You still insist that Zohara is lying?”
“Yes.” Zoe’s black eyes snapped. “I did not poison her so she would fall asleep while you were trying to make love to her. She probably poisoned herself.”
“I am aware of your feelings for her, Zoe—and for everyone else I choose to bed.” But his eyes glinted with new suspicion.
Zoe sank down to her knees. “I am jealous, and that should please you. For I love you, Jebal, and I always have.”
“Your jealousy can be annoying.”
Zoe tamped down her temper, not easily. “Zohara lied. She lied to you, not once, but many times. She is an accomplished liar.”
Jebal tossed the bunch of grapes aside, standing abruptly. He towered over his short, plump wife. “You had better explain yourself.”
Zoe remained crouched at his feet. It was submissive and suggestive at once. She crooked her neck to look up at him. “I have checked and discovered that there was never a diplomat, British or otherwise, named Thornton on Gibraltar.”
Jebal’s gaze widened. “This cannot be true.”
Zoe slowly stood. “It is true. She lied. She might have had a husband named Thornton, but he was not a British diplomat who recently died. And he was not stationed on Gibraltar.”
Jebal began to flush. He stared, unspeaking.
Zoe took his hand. “Why is she lying? Was she married? She is not a virgin, so she has been with a man. Was her real name ever Thornton? Or did she make that up—and ‘Alexandra’ as well. Who is she? What is she hiding?”
Jebal shook her hand off of his. “Those are very good questions, Zoe. And I will ask Zohara myself.”
Zoe smiled.
Jebal’s gaze was hard. “I am sure that there is a reasonable explanation for all of this.”
“Of course,” Zoe said sweetly.
“And meanwhile. I think you are forgetting something.”
“What is that?”
“Alexandra Thornton no longer exists. Lilli Zohara is my wife.” His eyes blazed.
Zoe took a step backward, her brow furrowed. “I love you. I seek only to protect you, Jebal.”
“Perhaps you should be more concerned with your own behavior, my dear,” he said.
Zoe started. “What?”
“I have heard an interesting rumor—about your slave, Masa.”
Zoe’s pulse began to race. “A rumor?”
“Yes. They say he is a great lover. But who would his mistress be—if not yourself?”
Zoe cried out. “Jebal, I am always faithful to you—I am not such a fool!”
“Is it you who lies now, Zoe? I pray not.” Jebal paused, his gaze as hard and bright as diamonds. “If I ever learn you have been unfaithful to me. I shall see you drowned.”
Zoe stiffened.
Jebal turned away. He eyed several pieces of parchment on his desk. “I have several engagements tonight. But I will let you know when you may come to me again.” His manner was offhand.
