The Cobra & the Concubine (Khamsin Warriors of the Wind) (34 page)

BOOK: The Cobra & the Concubine (Khamsin Warriors of the Wind)
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The Khamsin guardian caught the expectant look of both Kenneth and his sheikh. Blood infused Ramses’s face with ruddy color. "Ah, no. No. Absolutely not."

"You cannot expect me to be a woman. I am the Khamsin sheikh. If word leaked out I played the part, I would be laughed at from here to the Sinai," Jabari said coaxingly.

"And I look the part of a woman more?" Ramses blustered.

"You are much shorter."

"Your hair is longer than mine," Ramses argued.

"Just as my male part is."

"Ha! Mine is a towering pyramid. Yours is but a river reed," Ramses groused.

"Come now, Ramses. It is merely for one of us to gain access to the harem. I will even see to it that you will have big breasts. Larger than full moons. You will be the envy of the other girls. I will make you so desirable as a woman you will wish to seduce yourself," Jabari teased.

The man eyed him balefully and muttered a colorful oath about his sheikh and a she-camel’s behind.

"Enough," Kenneth cut in. "Neither of you will make a convincing woman. Ramses is too muscular, Jabari is too—well, too Jabari. There’s only one warrior who is suitable and a good enough fighter." He swallowed, hoping the warrior would go along with the plan.

Three pairs of eyes swung to Rashid. His eyes widened and he scowled. "I will not play the part of a girl," he grated.

"You’re the best man for the part," Kenneth countered.

"No." Rashid glowered at him with open hostility.

Kenneth met his scowl with an even look. "Not even for Badra, the woman you vowed to protect? You’re her falcon guard."

Two lines marred Rashid’s brow. He seemed in great conflict. Then he released a deep sigh. "Very well. For her. If it is the only means of her escape."

Deeply relieved, Kenneth nodded. "Once the men are inside the harem, sequestered in the rooms, everyone waits for the signal indicating that Rashid and I are ready to depart with Badra."

Her falcon guard gave him a thoughtful look. "What shall the signal be? A whistle?" Rashid gave a sharp, skillful whistle. The others looked startled. Whistling was considered rude among most Arabs. A jarring feeling nudged Kenneth. He dismissed it.

"Excellent. Listen for the whistle and join us in the hallway. We’ll pass out the weapons, which you’ll hide under your robes. We’ll hopefully have no need of them."

He frowned. "One more thing. We’ll need small firearms, but no shooting upstairs in the harem. For the same reason the eunuchs don’t carry guns—I don’t want the women hurt by stray bullets."

"We will use only
jambiyas
and scimitars then," Jabari agreed. "The best method of fighting, for men of courage." He glanced at Rashid and grinned. "Or women of courage."

Rashid scowled.

Folding the map, Kenneth handed it to Jabari along with a wad of rolled bills. "Go to the
souks
and buy what you need for the disguises. I’ll meet you back here tomorrow morning."

The sheikh eyed him somberly. "Keep her safe until then, Khepri. I am trusting you to do so."

"I will," he replied, thinking of the ominous words in Smithfield’s cable. "With my very life."

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Morning broke in the Pleasure Palace with the haunting wail of the
muezzin
calling the faithful to prayer. Kenneth lay awake, watching Badra sleep. He stroked the gentle curve of her cheek, marveling at its smooth texture.

Her soft black eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. Kenneth’s body stirred and he kissed her. When he pulled away, she gave a sleepy smile and struggled to sit.

"I must leave for the baths. It is the rule for women to bathe each morning," she said.

"After," he murmured. "Let me bathe you in love first."

He leaned forward and framed Badra’s face with his hands. They trembled a little from the force of his emotions as he leaned forward and kissed her.

A playful, seductive smile touched her mouth. His body tightened at the promise there. He took her mouth, relishing the taste, the teasing way she responded. She was like the sweetest honey, and Kenneth pulled away, his breathing ragged.

He moved to make love to her, surging into her body with a violent thrust that took her breath away. Badra closed her eyes, holding on as he loved her hard and fast. She sensed his need to claim her. Fisting her hands against the taut muscles of his back, she angled her hips up to meet each pounding thrust. Straining in helpless abandon, she writhed, overwhelmed by the sensual pleasure threatening to swallow her whole.

"I can’t take it, it’s too much," she gasped.

"Yes, you can," he said darkly, weaving his hands through her hair. His eyes met hers, fierce triumph rising in their depths. "You can, and you will."

Shifting his position, he proved her wrong—teasing, stroking and caressing, coaxing more dewy moisture from her. Pressure built inside her, the heat building to an incinerating inferno, building and building as he rubbed and teased until she finally begged for quarter.

But he gave her none. No mercy, riding her hard and fast even as she fell apart, screaming and shattering. Sated.

He withdrew slowly, lay atop her, panting for breath, feeling the sweat slick both their bodies, his seed slowly seeping out. Mindful of his heavy weight, Kenneth rolled off, pulling her into his arms.

They lay quietly together, drinking in the silence like potent wine. Badra nuzzled against his muscled shoulder. Her fingers tunneled through his wealth of dark, springy chest hairs.

"My love?" she whispered. "What if I become with child?"

She felt him stir, his hand gently stroking her hair. "We’d have to get married," he murmured. An audible pause followed, then his voice filled with hope. "Would you?"

Her sigh was like a thunderclap to him. "Of course I would," she said shyly. "I have no reason to refuse now. If you still want me, that is."

"Hmmmm. Do I want you?" He raised his head, regarding his softening member. "Not right now. But maybe in a few minutes."

Laughter rumbled in his chest as she thumped him. "Not that way!"

"Which way then?" he teased.

"Any way you want," she said softly, kissing him.

She adored the way he smiled at her, slow and sexy. "So, how about marriage, then children, hmm? How many shall we have?"

"Lots and lots. A whole tribe of our own."

"A tribe of rosy-cheeked, chubby babies for Jasmine to rule over. I like the idea," Kenneth mused. He kissed her again. "Let’s get started right away on number one."

"Now?" she squeaked. "But you just said that ..."

Glancing down at his groin, he grinned. "It looks like I may have changed my mind."

Her trembling hand caressed the taut bicep of his right arm, rubbing the cobra tattoo. Kenneth closed his eyes and she felt the muscle clench as if she’d branded him with a hot iron.

She gently squeezed. "Your cobra totem serves you well."

"There is yet another reason for my name. It has to do with ... my strength and endurance and flexibility."

"In battle?"

"No. In another area equally important to a Khamsin warrior."

"Which is?"

He grinned. "Let me show you."

She went into his arms as he began to demonstrate. Some time later, Badra lay back, gasping as Kenneth slid off her, sated and covered with sweat. Resting her head on his chest, her trembling limbs unable to move, she gulped in air. "I like snakes," she confessed in a shaky voice.

Laughter rumbled in his deep chest, vibrating against her ear. Content, she snuggled against him.

She liked snakes. Kenneth grinned.

Lying on his back, staring at the sunlight dancing on the intricately carved wood-paneled ceiling, he felt a slight breeze billow through the
mashrabiya
screens and cool their bodies. Peace drifted over him as he gazed at Badra, her eyes closed. She was falling asleep.

Easing her out of his arms, he slid off the bed. She gave a sleepy protest at the loss of warmth. Kenneth took several pillows, bunched them up, lined them against her as a substitute, and pulled a sheet over them. "Until I return," he said softly.

Badra flipped over on her back, opened one eye. "Hurry."

He shrugged into a robe and headed for the Turkish baths. When a female attendant offered to bathe him, he declined and briskly scrubbed himself, eager to return to breakfast and Badra. Kenneth wrung the sponge over his head, ducked and flung droplets from his wet head. He grinned. Breakfast or Badra? Which would he dine upon? Both?

He considered as he toweled off rapidly. Humming cheerfully, he headed back to Badra’s room.

Quietly opening the door, Kenneth grinned, slipped inside and advanced toward the bed. Teasing Badra awake with a date pressed against her lips would—

He neared the bed and froze.

Badra lay fully awake, dark eyes wide with panic. Her breasts lowered and fell with her increased breathing. Scales shining in a beam of sunlight, a silvery brown cobra slithered toward her delicate feet. Silent but deadly, it inched closer and closer.

Calm. He forced down calm as he slowly approached. "Keep still," he whispered. "Don’t move and it will not bite."

She lay stone-still, only her eyes moving as she tracked the progress of the snake. It rested against her foot, smelled her flesh with its forked tongue, then tested the air. Hiss.

Kenneth’s gaze snapped around the room. He spotted the line of love instruments on the wall—the
kurbash
, or crocodile-hide whip; leather restraints. A wildly comic thought surfaced: slapping handcuffs on the cobra. No. Kenneth spotted a broom in a corner. With all the stealth he possessed, he snagged it and neared the bed. As the cobra slid onto Badra’s bare leg, she whimpered.

"It won’t spit," he whispered. "My love, trust me. Please, do not move. Lie absolutely still."

The cobra slithered past Badra’s knee, reaching her thigh. Dryness filled Kenneth’s mouth. Holding the broomstick’s pole out, he faced the bed.

"Remember how I told you about saving Jabari from the cobra? I charmed the snake," he said softly, his eyes never leaving the serpent’s.

Kenneth placed himself in direct line with the snake’s black eyes, which were as dark as date pits. He slowly rotated the pole as the cobra reared up, hooding itself.

The snake hissed, but followed the pole’s motion as the broom swayed near its face. Cobra and man, each eyed the other. Coaxing it, Kenneth continued the motion. The snake hissed again and slid off Badra’s body, onto the sheets, toward him.

Kenneth struck, jabbing the pole at the snake. It hissed, attacked the wood and retreated. Using the pole, Kenneth picked the serpent up, forcing the cobra to wind around the wood.

Immediately, the beast went still as if caught in a trance. Kenneth seized the docile snake behind its head. Relief made his shoulders sag. He looked at Badra.

"Are you all right?"

The blood had drained from her face, but she nodded. Admiration rose in him. Badra had a warrior’s spirit. Not many women could endure a deadly snake slithering up their thighs. Bloody hell, not this kind of snake anyway. He saw in her the spirit that had enabled her to endure so many years of cruel treatment.

"Tell me what happened."

"I don’t know. I was half asleep when you left and felt a slight breeze, like a door opening. I felt something fall on the bed. I opened my eyes and saw the cobra."

Kenneth went to a low table holding glasses and a jug of water. Kneeling down, he forced the cobra’s mouth open and pressed its fangs against the interior of a glass. Milky fluid trickled out.

"What are you doing?" Badra’s voice sounded shaky, but she had followed him across the room.

"Ridding it of its venom. An old trick I learned," he said calmly. "Cobras are safe if you remove the venom."

"Of course you will not kill it, for killing your totem brings bad luck. You are still Khamsin, Kenneth."

Gratified to see her shaky smile, he nodded, continuing to milk the cobra of its toxin, watching the white fluid seep into the glass. Finally he released the snake, unwrapped it from the pole and grabbed its tail, twisting it to face him.

"Naughty snake, trying to take my place in bed," he admonished. He grinned at Badra. "I suppose when you agreed to play snake with me earlier, this wasn’t what you meant?"

Her laughter filled the room. Badra pressed her hands to her temples, sputtering. "You are mad," she gasped.

"Quite," he agreed cheerfully.

Kenneth took the cobra and headed out of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"Dropping off a little present. Be back straightaway."

He headed down the corridor, stopping at the room of the man who’d nearly bought Badra, whom he’d seen before in the hallway with a bruised-looking concubine. Opening the door, Kenneth saw him sleeping upon his bed. Alone.

He set the cobra on the floor. "Go, my friend. Be careful. This one is a more dangerous snake than you."

Watching the cobra slither toward the bed, he grinned. Then he dashed down the hallway, his smile fading.

Inside their room, he looked at Badra, who, practical as ever, had retrieved a bowl of fruit and was sorting through it for dates.

BOOK: The Cobra & the Concubine (Khamsin Warriors of the Wind)
8.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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