Bertrice Small - Bedazzled

"Your advice is sound," he replied, thinking as he spoke that her intellect was far above that of any woman he had ever known. She had obviously been thinking about the problem for some time now, and she had reasoned well the arguments for and against her conclusions.

She gave him a genuine smile. "Come, my lord dey," she said as she moved up the steps from the pool. "You cannot remain here all day." She held out a large towel for him. "The masseuse awaits you." She wrapped him in a towel, and began to dry him.

Caynan Reis chuckled to himself. He had wanted to attempt a seduction this morning, but she had so fascinated him with her speech regarding the aqueduct, that he had completely forgotten. She must come to you, the voice in his head told him.

He had his massage. She dressed him and brought him his morning meal. Then he closeted himself in his library, giving her his permission to do as she chose until it was time for his main meal. The day was overwarm for winter. As he went over the plans brought to him by the city's chief engineer, he could see the wisdom in her words. He sent for the author of the plans and brought up the possibility of building a new aqueduct to replace the old.

"It would be the better strategy, my lord," the engineer told him. "We could indeed do minor repairs on the old system that would hold for several years. A new aqueduct would take us three years to build. You see, we cannot be certain of the damage and wear to the interior of the aqueduct, but a new one would assure us of a supply of fresh water for the next several centuries, my lord."

"The cost?" The dey demanded.

"Not a great deal more than to do serious repairs on the old aqueduct, my lord, which might need more repairs in the future."

"Then we will build a new aqueduct," the dey decided, handing the plans back to the chief engineer. "Start immediately."

Returning to his apartments, the dey found his midday meal already set out for him. His head ached, and the air was unusually heavy for July. Still, his appetite was not affected. When he had finished, he arose, saying to her, "I think it will rain."

"Shall I prepare you for your nap, my lord?" she asked softly.

He nodded. Allah! His desire for her was suddenly eating at him. She removed his garments and sponged him with rose water. He said nothing, but his dark-blue eyes searched her face for some sign that she was weakening toward him. India carefully kept her eyes averted from his. If she looked at him, she would be lost, she feared. She didn't understand the emotions now swirling about inside her.

"Are you well, my lord?" she asked him, seeing his agitation.

"My head aches, India," he told her.

"Sit down, my lord, and let me rub it for you," she suggested.

"Nay," he said, thinking if she touched him again he would explode. "I will rest and it will ease itself," he told her. "Go, and have your lesson with Azura."

"No," India said. "Azura says I have advanced far more than any of her other students in so short a time. I will remain here, my lord, so that if you need me, I may serve you."

"Come and lie with me," he said softly.

She shook her head in the negative.

"Just lie by my side, India. I promise you that nothing will transpire between us. Your presence would comfort me," Caynan Reis said.

"I have not eaten," India said softly, "and I must then return the trays to the kitchen or poor old Abu will be most distressed, my lord."

"When you have finished," he said, "then come to me.".

"Are you commanding me, my lord?" India asked him.

"Nay," he replied, and closed his eyes.

India slipped from the bedchamber and ate her meal. Then she carried the trays back to Abu. Returning to the dey's apartments, she warred with herself for several long minutes, and then, entering his bedchamber, she lay down by his side. He did not move, and she was not certain if he was asleep or awake. It had begun to rain, and the sound of the droplets hitting the gravel path and the flora out in the garden was very soothing. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she was soon sleeping.

Caynan Reis took a deep breath, and put an arm about the slumbering girl. She gave a small sigh and curled herself against him. He could scarcely contain himself. She had come to him of her own accord. He let his eyes scan her face. She was dazzlingly beautiful, and she was almost his. He longed to kiss those full, lush lips of hers. To taste the innocent sweetness of her. He balled his hands into fists to prevent himself from touching her further and frightening her away. He knew that other men would consider his attitude toward India ridiculous. If a woman belonged to a man, and he desired her body, she gave it… or he took it. Yet, from the beginning, he had not been able to force her. Suddenly he realized that he wanted India to want him for himself, and not because he was the dey of El Sinut.

The women in his harem were lovely, and most amenable, but India was correct when she said that they feared him. They did. In their world he held the power of life and death over them. They sought to please him because everything they were, or possessed, was because of Caynan Reis, the dey of El Sinut. While he believed he had tamed India's proud manner a trifle, he had not broken her spirit. She spoke her mind to him, and did not mouth inanities at him. He realized now that he needed more than just willing bodies to pleasure him. He needed a woman who would be his companion, his lover, and who would tell him the truth. He needed India. It was as simple as that, but now he had to convince her of it. He couldn't be certain if it would be easy or difficult.

Of late he had seen her looking at him with a questioning look in her marvelous eyes. What was she thinking? Could she ever really love him given the way in which she had come to him? Had they been in England instead of El Sinut, would she have even considered him as a husband? She was seventeen, which was old for a virgin, and she had not chosen a husband, nor had her family chosen one for her. He wondered why. One day he would ask her, he thought.

His head was still aching, though less so when he finally fell into a deep sleep, but when he awoke, his mind was clear. The rain had stopped, and India was gone from his side. Had it all been a dream?

"India!" He called out to her.

"Yes, my lord?" She stood in the open bedchamber door.

"My headache has left me," he said, feeling foolish. He had been like a child for a moment, fearful that she was gone from him.

"I am glad, my lord," she answered him.

He arose, and she slipped a kaftan over him. "Who shall I choose to share my bed tonight, India?" he asked her. "Who shall I choose?"

For a very long moment she was silent, and she pierced him with a look the meaning of which he could not fathom. Then she said in a low voice, "It is not seemly, my lord, that I choose for you. I know you heard my foolish boast this morning to Samara, but it was only to keep the absurd creature in her place."

"Who shall I choose, India?" He repeated the question. He stood directly before her, his hands now resting lightly on her shoulders.

I am losing my reason, she thought. I cannot!

"India?"

"Choose me, my lord," she finally said. "Choose me."

He was not entirely certain that he had heard her aright. Reaching out, he cupped her face between his two hands and looked directly into those marvelous eyes of hers. "India?"

"Choose me, my lord," she repeated once again in a soft voice.

"You are certain?" His heart was hammering, and he felt almost weak in his longing for her. This was not simply desire he realized in a blinding burst of cognition. This was love!

"I am certain," she replied. "But, oh, my lord! Please be patient with me. You know I am neither incompetent nor witless, but I know very little about passion." Her cheeks flushed with her words.

Caynan Reis bent his dark head, and touched her lips with his. It was a slow kiss, delicate and filled with promise.

When he finally removed his lips from hers, India's hand went instinctively to her mouth, her fingers touching the flesh wonder-ingly. She hadn't known quite what to expect but certainly not this tenderness. There was something far more to the kiss than she understood, and, seeing the confusion in her eyes, he knew for an absolute certainty her innocence.

"I will teach you passion, India," he told her, his hands leaving her face, his strong arms enfolding her in a warm embrace.

Her cheek lay against his chest. She could feel the beating of his heart beneath the fabric of his kaftan. She trembled, and then angry with herself for what she felt was an unpardonable show of weakness, pulled away from him.

Gently he drew her back, enfolding her once more. His hand sleeked down her dark curls soothingly. "Passion is always confusing in the beginning. Afterward it is merely surprising," he told her.

"I feel foolish," she admitted.

"Do not, my thorny little virgin," he teased her lovingly. "I have never had a virgin in my bed, and I find the prospect an unusual aphrodisiac."

"What should I do?" India asked him.

"Another night I will begin to teach you the things that please me, and Azura will instruct you as well, my precious. Tonight, however, I would simply initiate you into the delights of love."