Pandora in concert was electrifying. From the moment thousands of daisies rained down on the screaming fans until the moment she disappeared into the smoke and strobe lights at the end of the long, circular runway that led backstage, she was riveting.

She was dressed in the Grecian tunic that seemed to be her trademark. It was the color of old ivory, and so silky and flimsy that it revealed legs as beautifully symmetrical as her body was curvaceous. But after the first few minutes neither Philip nor the screaming fans were conscious of her sexuality except in a subliminal fashion. It was her energy that captivated them. Her energy, and an emotion so raw and basic that it touched a response in every person in the audience. She exploded with it and thrived and shimmered in the flames that explosion left behind.

"She's fantastic, isn't she?" Denbrook asked as the lights went on. "I feel as if I've been put through a wringer and hung out to dry." He shook his head. "You know, I even forgot how luscious she is after the first few minutes. No wonder the concert was sold out."

"Yes, she's fantastic." Philip's face was thoughtful.

Seeing Pandora tonight had been a revelation. The woman behind the cool, sophisticated mask. So much power. So much emotion. Why had she tried to hide that emotion? Well, it would be interesting to find out. The next three months were going to prove very stimulating if tonight's concert was anything to go by. He rose. "I'm going backstage. Phone the airport and have the plane fueled and ready. Then go wait in the car."

Denbrook got to his feet. His expression was disapproving. "Why don't I go with you, at least until you get backstage? It's not safe to carry that little trinket in your pocket in this kind of crowd."

"I'm quite safe at the moment." There was a flicker of humor in the smile that touched Philip's lips. "Pandora has hung them all out to dry too."

* * *

It took him fifteen minutes to negotiate the cordon of security men that surrounded the performers, and his temper was more than a little on edge by the time a message had been sent to Pandora and he had been granted permission to go backstage. Evidently the security measures he had ordered were completely unnecessary.

She was still dressed in the thigh-length tunic, but she'd already shed that awful orange wig when he entered the dressing room. She looked up from brushing her hair. The annoying mask of sophistication was back, and it irritated him even more now that he'd seen what lay behind it.

"You must be very tired. That was quite a performance you put on out there," he said as he closed the door.

"You were in the audience?" She went still, halting the brush in midmotion.

"I saw a little of it," he said carelessly. "I may even be forced to go out to the lobby and buy a Pandora sweat shirt. I was impressed."

"Don't joke." The brush resumed its stroking rhythm. "I told you I didn't have any voice to speak of."

"But your lungs are every bit as admirable as you boasted." He paused. "I'm not at all sure you're the flash in the pan you claim to be."

He could see her hand tense on the handle of the brush. "That's because you're not a rock devotee. It's here today, gone tomorrow."

"Is it?" His look was quizzical. "Then we must make sure you have a little something to fall back on." He strolled toward her, reaching into his pocket as he did so. "I brought your medallion back."

"Did you?"

"But you didn't bring the box, so I was forced to substitute one of my own." He set down the object in his hand on the vanity in front of her. "I think you'll like this one better."

The box was perhaps two inches square and was the most fabulous piece of artistry she had ever beheld. It was composed entirely of large, square-cut emeralds set between rows of sparkling diamonds. She stared in disbelief. "It's magnificent," she murmured. "It must be absolutely priceless."

"I bought it. Nothing that can be bought is priceless." He opened the box. "But I think you'll find it an adequate demonstration of my generosity."

"I believe adequate is a gross understatement," she said dazedly. "I take it you've made up your mind?"

"Yes." He took the medallion out of the box and fastened it around her throat. "On consideration,

I found the idea of this particular kind of possession totally irresistible." His eyes met hers in the mirror as his hands slid beneath the low neckline of the tunic to cup her naked breasts. "You're very responsive," he noted with cool objectivity. "You like my hands on you, don't you?"

"Yes." Her heart was beating so hard, she had trouble breathing. "I do like it."

His hands moved over her breasts in a slow massage that was like tongues of flame on her flesh. "That's fortunate. They're going to be on you a great deal in the next three months. I may find it impossible to keep them off you, in fact.

"I hope you don't have any plans that can't be changed. I'm taking you away tonight."

"Tonight!" Her eyes widened. Then she gasped as his thumb and forefinger closed on one burgeoning nipple and pinched just hard enough to send a liquid burning to the center of her being. She closed her eyes until the tremors had abated slightly. When she opened them they were still clouded with emotion. It was difficult to gather her thoughts. "We're leaving tonight? Where are we going?"

His eyes were narrowed and his face heavy with sensual pleasure as he watched her response in the mirror. "To Sedikhan. Where else? I have to meet with Alex Ben Raschid early next month about negotiating a new treaty." He was lazily plucking at her nipples, enjoying the dazed look of pleasure the action was bringing to her. His hands moved around to lift her breasts, and he studied the shape of the nipples pressed against the thin material of the tunic. "God, that's lovely."

He leaned forward, his breath warm on her ear. "This excites you, doesn't it?" he whispered thickly. His eyes were on her reflection in the mirror. "Another frame for you, Pandora. Perhaps I'll radio from the plane and have the servants install a full-length mirror in my suite. I love to see you excited."

Everything he did excited her. Just being in the same room with him excited her. "I have to pack," she said.

"No." His teeth pulled gently at her earlobe. "I'll buy you anything you need. Is your passport in order?" She nodded, her eyes fixed on the image of his dark, sensual face in the mirror. "Good. I'll send Denbrook to your hotel to pick it up and have him meet us at the airport. I want to leave as soon as you're dressed. You know I've never been patient when I wanted something." His tongue touched the sensitive cord behind her ear and a shudder went through her. "And I want you very much, Pandora."

She knew that. She could feel it in the hard tension of his chest as it pressed against her back. "All right." She leaned her head back against him and closed her eyes. What difference did it make? He was taking her with him—that was all that mattered. "I'll come."

"I want to see you again." His voice was a hoarse mutter as his hands left her breasts and fumbled with the back of her tunic. "Does this thing have a zipper? All I could think of last night after you left was how pretty you were jutting out of that black velvet. How good you tasted." There was anedge of frustration in his tone. "How the devil do I get you out of this?"