"No."

She shrugged. "I'll wait. You'll change your mind. When a woman is alone and without protection, there is only one road for her to take."

The certainty in Zabrie's tone sent a lightning bolt of fear through Jane. "I said no! I'm not alone, and even if I were, I don't need anybody else. I can protect myself. I'm not a whore. I'll never be a whore."

Zabrie drew herself up haughtily. "It seems you, too, think a whore is beneath your touch."

Jane drew a deep breath, trying to regain control. Her fierce response to Zabrie's words had caught her by surprise. "I didn't say that."

"You did not need to say it."

"I didn't mean to hurt you and certainly not condemn you. My mother was a harlot and in a far worse place than this. You must make your own choices, but . . ." She hesitated and then burst out, "I would rather die than sell myself."

Zabrie's gaze narrowed on her face. "You are afraid. Why?"

"I'm not afraid." Zabrie gazed at her in disbelief. Jane explained haltingly, "Such a life takes away your freedom, you become a slave."

"It is all how one looks upon the act. If a woman is good enough, it is the man who becomes the slave." Zabrie turned away from the mirror. "You must go now."

"Kartauk."

Zabrie smiled as she saw Jane's determined expression. "You don't give up, do you? We may disagree on many things, but it's one quality we have in common."

"Will you at least provide a shelter for Kartauk in the city if I need it?"

"If you can arrange it so that there is no danger to me, I will consid—"

The door was flung open and the young girl Zabrie had called Lenar rushed into the room. "Pachtal! He came in a few minutes ago. He demands to see you."

"What?" Zabrie whirled to face Jane. "You fool!"

"He didn't follow me." Jane stood up. "I know Pachtal and would have noticed him. He must have been watching this house."

"And saw you come in. What difference does it make how he came to be here? He's here."

Jane felt a thrill of fear as she remembered Pachtal's vicious expression, the agony as he had twisted her arm. "How can I get out of the house without him seeing me?"

"It's too late." Zabrie grasped her wrist and dragged her toward the door across the room. "He'll probably search the place for you, but I'll try to keep him away from here."

"How?"

"The usual way. Pachtal and Abdar didn't hesitate to use me when they were here before. I'll call you when it's safe." She opened the door, pushed Jane into the adjoining room, and slammed the door.

Chapter 3

Even in the dim lamplight Ruel recognized the gleaming auburn of Jane's hair as she hurriedly entered the room.

The muscles of his abdomen clenched and his loins immediately hardened in response. Easy, he told himself, he was here for a purpose other than what his body demanded. Easy? The thought was ludicrous; at this moment both calmness and reason were out of the question.

She was here.

Soon he would know more about her than ever before.

Soon he would touch her for the first time.

. . .

Jane heard the key turn in the lock of the door behind her. Another click sounded in the lock on the only other door across the chamber.

She was a prisoner.

Her chest was tight with fear. The caged feeling reminded her of the helplessness she had experienced when she had stood sandwiched between Pachtal and Abdar on that lonely street only a few weeks before.

Darkness hovered over the chamber lightened only by a single oil lamp on the table beside her, and the heavy scent of musk and incense pressed down on her.

"At last. Come here and let me look at you."

She froze, her glance flying across the room to the man lying on the bed.

In the dimness she could tell only that he was naked and lying on his side facing her. His cheek rested on his hand as his gaze slowly ran over her. "Unusual. It seems Zabrie took me at my word."

This time she caught the slight brogue in the words. The Scot, Jane remembered, the man whom Zabrie had ordered brought here, the man who had wanted something different. "Zabrie will come to you later. She's busy now."

"But she sent you to entertain me?" He crooked his finger, motioning for her to come to him. "Don't be nervous. I don't mind. I told her I was in the mood for an English lass."

He had mistaken her panic for nervousness at his displeasure. She would have laughed if she hadn't been so frightened. "I'm not English and I'm not nervous. You don't understand."

"I understand I'm going to be a little annoyed if you don't come over here and let me see what you look like." She moved reluctantly to stand beside the bed. "I'm sure Zabrie will not be—"

Dear God, he was the most beautiful human being she had ever seen. He was all lion colors, golden skin, tawny hair pulled back in a queue to reveal a bone structure that was close to perfect. But his eyes were blue, not a catlike green or yellow, a deep, piercing blue. ...

He lifted a brow. "How long before Zabrie arrives?"

She had forgotten what she had been about to say. She swiftly gathered her composure. "Just be patient."

He chuckled. "This isn't a situation where patience comes easily." He gestured to his lower body. "As you can see."

Her gaze followed the gesture and she inhaled sharply as she saw bold, pulsing arousal, splendid dimension. She quickly looked back to his face. "Zabrie will be here soon."

"It's not Zabrie who made me like this. You walked in the door and I wanted you."

She stared at him in disbelief.

"It came as a surprise to me too. I didn't expect it. In those masculine clothes you certainly don't look very appealing." He reached out and grasped her wrist. "Take them off," he said softly.

Her flesh under his grasp felt strange, hot, tingling, and she was experiencing a queer breathlessness. "No."

"You prefer that I do it?" He pulled her down to a sitting position on the bed beside him. His light eyes narrowed on her face, holding her gaze. The scent of him surrounded her, soap and spice and something deeper, darker, blending with the incense-laden air. "Why not?" he murmured. "I might find it interesting changing a boy into a woman."

"I didn't say that I wanted—"

He started unbuttoning her shirt.

She instinctively jerked back.

He quickly grasped both her wrists in one hand. "Shh, it's all right." His other hand moved from the buttons to pet her breasts through the material. "I just want to see you." He smiled as he looked down at the protrusion of her nipples against the material of her shirt. "Ah, isn't that pretty." He rubbed his palm slowly back and forth over her breasts.

Jane felt heat ripple through her and a tingle begin between her legs. Why wasn't she struggling? She was strong enough to break his grip if she made the effort. Pachtal. She grasped desperately at the only sensible reason occurring to her. She must be afraid Pachtal would come if she made a disturbance, or perhaps it was this incense that was making her dizzy and weak. "I ... I don't want this."

"Of course you do." He undid two more buttons. "Why else are you here?"