With a tug of the door latch, she faced Rothburn’s questioning gaze.

“I feared you’d never come out.”

“You asked me to prepare myself. What else could a woman in my position do but abide by your request?”

He cocked his head to one side; his smile was one of amusement. Even though it was the truth, he didn’t believe her for a second. She’d put the sponge in for her benefit, not his. “Have you no desire to run from me again? I am almost disappointed in your resignation. In fact, you seem rather docile since yesterday’s attempt on the windows.”

“I have no reason to find escape.” She pulled herself up straight, tilted her chin up—a decidedly English mannerism—and met his gaze. “Amir will find me. I will be with my son soon. It does not matter that you keep me here against my will.”

“Don’t be too sure about that, love. My name is not attached to the property we reside in.” His grin was smug as he crossed his arms, staring down at her with far too much amusement at having bettered her. “You are lost from your owner, little dove.”

“You are mistaken. I am most valuable to Amir. He will put up a fight for what is rightfully his.”

“I find your devotion leaves something to be desired.”

“Then you should have left me in the harem.”

“No. Definitely not something I am willing to do.”

“You are a fool to face the wrath of my master.”

With those words, his grin faded. His lips thinned; his arms, which were crossed in enjoyment of their repartee, dropped to his sides in renewed anger. His fists clenched, then unclenched. Did he know he’d revealed a weakness in his character? He hated any mention of Amir. Not that she knew quite how to exploit this discovery.

He strode forward; the flat of his hand slapped the wall behind her with enough force that she started and a small high-pitched cry of fear escaped her throat. Effectively, he’d boxed her in between his straining arms as both hands stretched to the wall on either side of her head. His face was but inches from hers.

“He is no longer your master!” His words were clipped and slow as though he didn’t think she’d understand them without the drawling. “Say it again, and I’ll be tempted to do more than tan your hide. Damaged goods don’t hold nearly as much worth as a girl playing the browbeaten, docile princess.”

She looked away from him, afraid to incur more of his fury. He’d never shown a temper of this magnitude. Never threatened once to hurt her. Not that the opportunity would have arisen with all the guards present in the Pleasure Gardens. She was precariously balanced on the sharp tip of his barely tempered rage. She didn’t know who to fear more, Amir or Griffin? The question was, which man really held her life in his hands?

Extracting herself from his furious grasp was key to bringing the situation back to her favor. “Please, Rothburn.” Though she knew he was more show than bite, she averted her eyes and added quietly, “You are frightening me.”

There was a silent pause.

The angry tempo of his breath continued to fan over her face. Perhaps she had said the wrong thing? She daren’t chance a look. Instead of facing him, she backed against the wall, ready to retreat under his outstretched arms. She knew she wouldn’t get far, but it would be worth the effort.

“Your fanciful tales,” he said dangerously, “fall flat with me, my dear. Your games have never worked.” Then he pushed away from the wall. She was glad to feel chill air in place of his body heat. “Look at me, damn it.”

How she wanted to dash away from him, to escape him to a room full of servants where he wouldn’t dare lift a finger to harm her. His temper was volatile and she was close to shattering his control. She did not want to face the rage so tightly held at bay.

He’d never been like this with her before. Never. She looked at his face but did not make eye contact. He let out an annoyed sound, then walked toward the bed, pulling his shirt from his trousers.

“Get over here, Jinan. And disrobe. If you insist on playing the whore, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

She flinched at his harsh words, but he was right. She was nothing more than a whore. First her husband’s, then Amir’s, and now Rothburn’s. They all wanted to be her lord and master. She looked at him for a moment, then her heart shut off to him.

The tears that had threatened moments before dried up. Her trembling hands moved swiftly to pull the vest off and untie the scarves. At last she pushed her skirts down her hips to pool on the floor. His eyes watched her progress. She hated that his smile was genuine and cracking through his angry demeanor.

Then he met her eyes and his smile faded. His firm resolve slid back in place when he realized she did not want to play his games. Before he could demand anything of her, she walked past him, lay on her back, and spread her legs for him. She put her knees up high, to give him the view he desired. He’d see the string curled around the swell of her buttocks, and know that she’d obeyed his orders.

He did not remove his trousers. She waited for him to make use of her, but he just stood there for some minutes. Finally, he sat at the edge of the bed, coming into her line of sight, and removed his shoes.

“Close your legs, Jinan. You’ll catch a draft, and I’ve no desire to make use of you tonight. I only wish to have a nap.”

There was defeat in the timbre of his voice, and she didn’t fail to notice the slight hunch to his shoulders. It shouldn’t matter that he felt properly punished by her actions.

He’d taken her from her home; she could have no sympathy for him. She closed her legs—leaving the sponge in place, in case he did make use of her—and rolled to face the side of the bed he did not occupy.

14

Revelation

A few days had come and gone now and Rothburn had left her to her own devices during that time. She wasn’t sure if he was still fuming over their last confrontation. But he was either short with her or said nothing at all whenever they crossed paths.

Another blessing and curse between them.

It was better that way. She hoped, because she did still love him, despite his ill treatment of her, that he strategized and readied himself for Amir’s imminent arrival. It couldn’t be too far off. Another week at most. He’d be a fool to think Amir wouldn’t find him. One did not steal the property of a prince; the consequences were often deadly.

Thoughts of Jonathan plagued her mind. She knew as the days went on that her chances of returning to the harem to welcoming arms were more and more unlikely.

Would Amir listen to her apologies for everything that had happened these last ten days?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Rothburn stepped into the bedchamber, hands laden with two silver breakfast trays.

“I passed Donata in the hall. She said you were up and about.”

She nodded. Where had this charming man come from? Pretending to be sincere now when he hadn’t said more than a handful of sentences in the last few days. She was here against her will; she shouldn’t find him charming in the least.

She looked him over, wary and reserved, and waited for him to set the trays down.

One was placed on her lap, the other he placed on the side table where he kept a decanter half filled with brandy. Never had she seen him take a drink from it.

He approached her and took the lid off the dinner tray with a flourish and set it aside.

“Fish. Thank you,” she said, naturally and gratefully.

“Of course, I wouldn’t feed you swine or unblessed meat. I haven’t once offered it, because I thought that would be decidedly cruel. I promise you I’m not often cruel, at least not intentionally.”

At her skeptical gaze he assured her, “It is all halal. Do not ask how I arranged it, but I found someone who would do that for me when I procured the necessities and toiletries I thought you might make use of here. I do not know if you had a strict diet in the harem. Whenever we dined together, it was light fare.”

“We followed a strict diet. We kept many of the traditions of the Ottoman harems. This is very kind of you.”

She ducked her head, embarrassed by the expression of gratitude. She hadn’t had anything but tidbits of food now and then because she had assumed his kitchen was not prepared for a woman with her dietary restrictions. She reached for the fork he held out and looked down to the array of food. There was some sort of pilaf, spiced differently from what she was used to. The fish slid apart like a creamy cheese. Placing it in her mouth, she tasted a strong undercurrent of lemon and rosemary. It was delicious and the most appetizing thing she’d eaten in days. Savoring the fish, she closed her eyes. She was only aware she made a noise of contentment when Rothburn chuckled, then retrieved his own tray.

He sat in the chair diagonally across from her, and they ate in pleasant silence.

She never thought this could happen so easily after their last altercation.

When she picked up the last of the peas and popped it into her mouth, Rothburn asked her solicitously, “Would you like another helping?”

She shook her head no and handed the plate to him. He took it without comment.

What moments before had been easy and comfortable now felt awkward and strange. He didn’t sit in the chair to her left. He perched himself on the window seat facing her, so she couldn’t stare out at the garden to avoid his gaze.

“We cannot go on like this, Jinan.”

“Do you wish to resume your contract with me now that my menses have passed?” She knew that wasn’t what he referred to, but she’d be damned if she would give him an inch. He deserved no kindness from her after his brutality.

“We do not have a contract. I’ll not reiterate that again. I’m being sincere. I wish you believed my words. I’ve set you free from the servitude that island sanctioned. Is that not enough for you to feel at least a little grateful toward me?”