wy corridor. There was no one in sight. He closed the door firmly
and slid home the heavy iron bolt that would guarantee their privacy.

She was standing where he had left her, watching him, her amber eyes
warm. He went quickly to her and untied the knot in the laces at her
back, marveling at the slenderness of her neck. She could have unlaced
the dress herself, he saw, but she wanted him to.

She wore no belt, and the dress fell away. Under it was a white silk
chemise without sleeves. Still standing behind her, he dropped his hands
gently on her small, square shoulders and slid the chemise down. His
eyes followed its fall, savoring her delicate shoulder blades, the
shadowed hollow of her back. All that remained now were light green hose
attached to a wisp of silk that girdled her hips.

Sophia shivered, and he knew it was not the cold, though the storm was
blowing a strong, moist breeze through the partly opened window.

He put his hands on her shoulders, firmly now, and turned her around.
She threw back her head and laughed as he stared at her breasts and bit
his lower lip.

What Daoud carried under his black gown felt as big and heavy as a mace.

He dropped to one knee before her. He reached around to her buttocks,
his palms tingling at their cool firmness, and he slid down the last of
her garments. She stood, all exposed, before him.

"Will I not see you naked?" she said with a throaty chuckle. "Is that
the Turkish way, for the man to remain clothed?"

"You will soon learn what the Turkish way is, my lady." He leaned
forward, still genuflecting, and dropped a dozen light kisses on her
belly and thighs, and then buried his face in the rich triangle of hair
between her legs and kissed her deeply.

She cried out in surprise and pleasure.

Suddenly he stood up and swung her up in his arms like a Bedouin
chieftain carrying his bride to his tent. She laughed delightedly. She
felt as light as a child. He strode across the room to the bed and laid
her down.

He wrestled his black silk gown over his head and threw it off. Quickly
he pulled off the locket Blossoming Reed had given him and dropped it on
the gown. He stood over her, looking down at her, and letting her look
her fill at him.

"The blond Turk," she said in Greek with a small smile, and moved her
hips from side to side.

Slowly she reached up to her head and pulled free the net of pearls
woven into her hair. Long locks, black as raven's wings, sprea