t he wanted it.

He had not wanted to be aware of it, he thought, knowing that he must
use her against his enemy. And how he had hated Simon de Gobignon simply
because Simon was to have Sophia.

_I should have known then that my hatred for de Gobignon was a measure
of my love for her._

But he had not wanted to know that either, because Blossoming Reed, the
daughter of the sultan, awaited him in El Kahira, and he had sworn to be
faithful to her all his life.

_Take as many women as you like. But love always and only me._

He felt a chill, and realized that he was feeling cold not merely
because of the memory of Blossoming Reed's warning, but because Sophia
was rain-wet against him. She had ridden through the storm still
thundering away outside, and he felt a cold dampness soaking through his
gown.

"Your clothes are wet," he said, continuing to speak Greek.

She rubbed herself against him. "I am wet to the skin. I need to take
these clothes off."

"Yes. Why not do that?"

Without hesitation she stepped out of the circle of his arms and undid
the brooch that held her printed shawl around her shoulders. She would
not be shy, he realized. There had not been time, in the life she had
led, for hesitation with men. Only, he hoped that she would not, like
some of the experienced women he had known, show little feeling herself
while she let him use her in any way that pleased him.

_She is not that sort. I know it._

Foolish of him to even think it. But some part of him needed to doubt.
This moment was too good to be true.

And too frightening. Because what they were about to do was not just
satisfy their bodies' hungers; it would seal the bond of love between
them. And then he would not be able to send Sophia like a falcon to
strike at his enemies. He would not be the same man when he went back to
Blossoming Reed. What they were about to do would change both their
lives.

Standing in the crumpled heap of orange and green silk that was her
shawl, she turned her back to him.

"Help me with the laces," she said. He saw that her gown laced down the
back.

"One small moment," he said, running his hand caressingly over her back.
He walked to the door. There was still pain in his right thigh when he
moved quickly, but now it was overwhelmed by his body's yearning to have
this woman. He felt the swelling and pressure of arousal in his loins.

He opened the door of his room partway and looked up and down the
shado