The prince leisurely studied her features. "Yes, she is not all bad. The cheekbones are too high, but the mouth is quite lovely. Let's have a look at her body, Pachtal." He unbuttoned the loose shirt and spread the edges back to reveal her breasts. "Ah, those grotesque mannish garments hide treasures. You are so thin, I would never have guessed these would be so beautifully full." He cupped her naked breasts, weighing them as if they were melons. "She reminds me a little of Mirad, Pachtal."

"Let—me—go," she said through her teeth.

"Very nice." Pachtal ignored her command as he drew closer and peered over her shoulder at Abdar's hands cradling her breasts. "It's difficult to tell in this light, but the nipples are rosier, I think. Mirad's were like huge purple grapes."

She started to struggle.

"No!" Pachtal's grip tightened with bruising force on her arms. "You will not refuse His Highness when he honors you with his touch."

"I have never had a foreign woman in my bed. I believe you could amuse me for quite a long time." Abdar smiled as he brought her single thick braid over her shoulder and quickly unfastened it. "Of course, these hideous trousers and shirt will not be permitted. I will have you perfumed and given proper womanly garments." He ran his fingers through her loosened hair that now flowed halfway down her back in a wild stream. "Dark red. It looked closer to brown when in the braid. Interesting." His hands returned to her breasts as his voice lowered to honey softness. "I would like to see you bound naked and helpless in my bedchamber at the palace. And why not? No one would ever know if I decided to take you back to my palace and teach you the submission due me."

A chill went through her as she remembered the tales Kartauk had told her of Abdar. "I'm not one of your subjects. I would be missed. Your father will not permit this."

Abdar raised his brows. "He will not object to my amusing myself. Women have little value for my father."

She had no argument to give him on that score. In his own way, the maharajah was as arrogant and self-serving as his son. She said quickly, "But his railroad does have value for him. And my father needs my help to complete the railroad."

"I have observed that you seem to aid him. Perhaps I will reconsider." He lifted his gaze to meet her own. "If you give me your lover, Kartauk."

The combination of pain and revulsion at his touch was making her stomach churn. "I don't know any Kartauk."

He nodded at Pachtal, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out as another agonizing pain shot through her.

"You're beginning to anger me. I have waited too long already, and I want Kartauk tonight. Now, tell me the truth."

She tried to block out the pain and panic and think. Obviously it would be useless to continue to deny any knowledge of Kartauk. Abdar would continue to torture her until he got what he wanted. "Very well. What do you want to know?"

"That is sensible. You admit you know Kartauk?"

She nodded jerkily.

He nodded to the man behind her and she was suddenly released. "Better and better. You see how we reward cooperation? We have no desire to cause you discomfort."

He was lying. She had seen too many men who liked to prove their power over women with pain and subjugation when she was at Frenchie's not to recognize the breed when she encountered it.

"You've left your bungalow three nights in a row to come into the city. You've been meeting Kartauk?"

"Yes."

He glanced down at the knapsack she had dropped on the ground. "And taking him food?"

She nodded again.

"That is good. It would displease me if Kartauk suffered harm or deprivation." He reached out and gently grasped her throat. "Now, you will tell me where he is so that I may place him again under my protection."

"He's hiding in one of the shops that border the river."

"Which house?"

"Yellow sod. With a dirty striped awning."

"You describe half the shops in Kasanpore." He frowned. "You will take me there."

"You don't need me. I've told you what you wanted to know."

"But is it the truth? I think I will make certain before I permit you to leave us. You carry the lantern, Pachtal. I will escort the lady."

Pachtal released her arms and moved around to stand beside Abdar before reaching down to pick up the lantern from the street.

Jane's lids lowered swiftly to veil her eyes as sudden hope spiraled through her. Pachtal's action left her back unguarded, and she doubted if she would get a better opportunity to escape.

She meekly dropped her eyes as she whimpered, "Why won't you let me go back to my bungalow? I've told you what—" In midsentence she lowered her head and launched herself at Abdar.

The top of her head crashed into his mouth.

He screamed in pain, his hand releasing her throat and flying to his bleeding lower lip.

She whirled and tore down the twisting, cobbled street.

"Get her!"

She heard the pounding of running steps behind her and Abdar's venomous cursing.

She turned left at the corner, almost tripping over a beggar huddled in the shadows.

She caught her balance, avoided the beggar's outstretched grasping hands, and ran on.

The beggar hurled obscenities after her and then let out a shrill screech of pain. She risked a glance over her shoulder and saw the beggar doubled over in the street, clutching his stomach as Pachtal and Abdar ran past him. They were gaining on her, swiftly closing the distance between them.

Panic choked her, and for an instant she couldn't remember which way to turn. Left. Right led to the river. She must go left and try to lose herself in the bazaar. The day after she had decided to help Kartauk she had spent the entire morning in the bazaar, familiarizing herself with every stall and corner of the huge marketplace. Darkness had just fallen, arid the bazaar would still be crowded. She could hide among the stalls until Abdar gave up the chase.

She turned the corner and burst into the crowd of people in the large square.

The bazaar.

Copper lanterns hanging on awning-covered booths. A camel burdened with rolled carpets moving with ponderous gait through the throng.

Noise. Beggars whining. Merchants calling out their wares.

She heard Abdar cursing behind her, but she was already darting through the throng and between the stalls. She passed a leather vendor, a pink-turbaned cleaner of ears wielding his small silver spoon in the orifice of a customer seated on a low stool, a gold merchant, a kiosk hung with wicker cages containing raucously squawking parrots. She glanced behind her again and her heart sank. As people recognized Abdar, they were making way for him.

Then, to her relief, she saw a small female elephant burdened with copper pots and pans and her master on the aisle that bordered the western edge of the bazaar. It was common knowledge Abdar hated elephants and avoided them at all cost. If given a choice of direction, he would surely choose another aisle. She ran ahead into the thick crowd of people gathered around a vegetable booth to lose herself from Abdar's view, turned left at the next booth, ran past the elephant, and then dove behind a fishmonger's stall. She crouched low, moving far back into the shadows.

The overpowering stench of fish, elephant dung, garbage, and a heavy Oriental perfume drifting from the stall next to the fishmonger's nearly gagged her. She tried to hold her breath, her eyes straining as she peered through the small opening between the stalls. She could see only the lower portion of bodies and tried frantically to remember what Abdar and Pachtal had been wearing. Dear God, all she could recall was Abdar's smiling, childlike face and the vicious beauty of Pachtal's well-shaped lips as he twisted her arm. The memory started her heart pounding so hard, she was sure it could be heard even above the clamor of the bazaar.