He held himself as rigid as if he were at attention on the spar deck of the Constellation, his training ship. For one instant he stared down into her flushed, lovely face with its kohled eyes and long lashes, seeing the moist red lips waiting, parted. Then his gaze lifted until he was staring blankly above her brown hair at the Moorish windows of the haremlik.
He said heavily, “The pasha said I was to guard his wife against all harm. He said my life depended on it.”
She whispered, “In the harem, my word is the law. Kiss me!”
She writhed against him, but he was as unmoving as a statue. Then Marlani Chamiprak drew back and snarled, like a savage cat. Her hand came up and her palm cracked hard against his cheek. Three times she hit him, until his cheek was an angry scarlet.
“You Americano fool! You shouldn’t have made an enemy of me. It would have been better for you to have Yussuf angry with you, than me!” She paused for breath and slowly the rage gave way to a quiet slyness, brightening her eyes and curving her lips. “If you want it like this, with open war between us, very well. But remember, I fight as a woman fights!”
She turned on a heel and walked away. Just before she disappeared behind the archway curtains, she looked back over a bare shoulder. “I’ll make you forget yourself yet, nasrany. When I do, I’ll tell Yussuf you raped me! Pray to your gods that it will take a long time.”
The curtain fell behind her, limply, and Stephen Fletcher was aware that sweat was standing out like jeweled beads on his forehead.
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