The Concubine's Tale (3 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Colgan

BOOK: The Concubine's Tale
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The four people bowed to the warrior and then to Nayari, and the women began removing the baskets from the back of the cart.

One of them touched Nayari’s shoulder and beckoned her to follow. Uncertain, she glanced at the warrior, and he nodded.

Would he leave her here? Would Ammonptah be waiting inside? Nayari pushed the disturbing questions out of her mind and followed the women into the dimly lit interior of the temple.

Just inside the entrance of the temple, the women stopped and ushered Nayari toward a narrow passageway to the right. Over their shoulders she saw into the cavernous main room of the temple, and she craned her neck for a better view of the forbidden space.

“You can’t enter there,” one of the women whispered. She placed a firm hand again on Nayari’s shoulder and guided her into the corridor where oil lamps lit the deeply inscribed walls. “Only priests and acolytes may attend Min. You will stay back here in the special chambers.”

As she followed the women deeper inside the temple, Nayari gazed at the inscriptions that covered the walls. Though she couldn’t read everything, the pictographs were fairly explicit, and they set her imagination alight.

Here a man knelt in supplication at an altar while a woman anointed his head with oil. There a woman and a man embraced while above them the Chief of Heaven, Min himself, blessed their marriage union.

Nayari leaned closer to the next pictograph. This was a portrait of the god, a tall man with a beautiful face and a strong physique. Protruding from his waist at the juncture of his closed legs was the longest, straightest erection Nayari had ever seen.

He held his arrow-like member in one hand and pointed it at a group of worshippers who offered him sheaves of wheat in return for his blessing.

The paintings and carvings held Nayari’s attention and made her think of Ammonptah. Her master was the only man she’d ever seen in such a state of arousal, and his penis was certainly no match for that of the god.

Warmth rose to her cheeks when she found herself wondering if Ammonptah’s member was normal or unusually small for a man of his age and stature. She thought of the warrior, with his bulging muscles and glistening dark skin, and wondered if his cock might look more like Min’s, long and straight and powerful.

“You’ll sleep here.” One of the women gestured Nayari into a small room set off the corridor at the back of the temple. “We will bring you food and help you bathe.”

“When will Ammonptah be coming?” she asked in a hushed voice. While she respected the sanctity of the temple, Nayari’s insides trembled at the thoughts she’d been having about the warrior. She covered her mouth with her fingers, as if that might quiet the giddiness in her voice.

“We will inform you,” the other woman responded. “Rest now.”

Nayari turned to survey her quarters and frowned. The small bed held rough blankets and a thin mattress. She sniffed at the musty odor of it. An oil pot sat on a ledge carved into the far wall, and a small wick burned within it. The rushes on the floor looked wilted as though they’d not been changed before her arrival.

This is only temporary
, she told herself with a sigh.
Ammonptah will be here soon
.

Cait looked up from her dessert, a decadent chocolate confection laced with liquor-soaked fruit. She felt Nayari’s anticipation and her fear, wondering if her master would come for her and see that she was properly blessed by the fertility god, and at the same time entertaining forbidden thoughts about the dark warrior.

Grant filled her wine glass and studied her intently. His gaze was languid and warm. “What was the warrior doing while she waited in her little temple room?”

Gaining control over her emotions, Cait smiled wickedly and took another succulent bite of dessert. “He was thinking about her and trying not to betray the trust Ammonptah had put in him.”

“He wanted her.”

Cait nodded. “The sultry atmosphere of the temple didn’t help. The rites of Min were thought to be quite explicit.”

Grant leaned closer again, and Cait floated on the heady scent of his cologne. She smiled when he loosened his tie and wondered if the rest of her tale would have a greater effect on him.

“The warrior took up his post outside of Nayari’s room as he’d been instructed. Only a woven screen covered the doorway, so he could hear what went on inside. The women returned to bathe her, and his imagination ran wild. By the time he encountered Nayari again, he was half out of his mind with desire.”

When the female acolytes returned, they brought a bowl of perfumed water, cloths to bathe her, and a tray of bread and roasted meat.

Nayari helped herself to some of the food while the women unlaced her sandals and removed her belt. She sighed as they bathed her feet and legs, and the glorious scent of jasmine enveloped her and calmed her rattled nerves. She lay back against one woman while the other opened the top of her dress and rubbed a fine cloth over her arms and her breasts.

“Ammonptah will be pleased,” Nayari murmured, trying to keep her thoughts centered on her master. It was difficult, with the sensual feel of the cool cloth riding over her skin, to think of her master’s touch. His hurried movements during the times she’d been called to his service always made her wonder if he truly enjoyed coupling, or if it was more of a chore for him, as it often was for her.

If Ammonptah had ever touched her like this, bathed her, smoothed her hair, she might long for him now, not as the man who owned her and had the power to send her back home where she belonged, but the man she loved and wanted. Once again, unbidden, her thoughts turned to the warrior. His hands were twice the size of Ammonptah’s, rough from hard work and dark from days spent under the sun. Together his hands could span her waist, and she had no doubt his arms could lift her without effort to settle her over his cock. He could hold her hips in his hands, his long fingers inching between her buttocks as she rode him—

“You’re trembling,” one of the women said with a light laugh. “And look, Min calls to you.”

Nayari’s face burned when she realized her nipples stood hard and erect. She hastily pulled her dress up around her. “Leave me. I’ll await Ammonptah alone.”

“Of course.” The women bowed and left with knowing smiles. They took the bathing water with them, but left the remains of the food. Nayari stared at it and willed herself to take another bite, but her appetite had fled.

Perhaps someone else might want the food. It would only attract flies if left in her room all night. Carefully, she lifted the heavy tray and padded barefoot across the floor. She turned and let herself out of the room, backside first to push the reed mat out of the way. When she collided with a warm body, she nearly dropped the tray.

She whirled around and glared up into the face of the warrior. He gave her a curious shrug. “The food isn’t to your liking?” he asked.

“I…was going to give it to the oxen.” She raised her head in defiance of his tone, but then shifted her arms to cover her chest, aware that her strange excitement still showed in the hard peaks of her nipples that raised the thin fabric of her dress. A cool current of air stirred the hem of her skirt, and a tingle raced up her legs to her inner thighs.

“The oxen have plenty of food,” he said. His voice rumbled in his chest, and he stared over her head as if he wished to avoid looking at her.

“Then perhaps you would like it.”

“The priests have brought me food.”

Nayari sighed. “Then take it away before it rots.”

Now his gaze dropped to hers, and she held herself still under his blazing scrutiny. “I am not a maidservant,” he said.

“Neither am I.”

Their gazes held, battled for a moment, and Nayari swore a faint smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I’ll alert the acolytes. Go inside and wait for them to return.”

Nayari wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. She leaned back against the cold stone wall and looked up at him. With his arms crossed over his chest and his brows lowered over those onyx-colored eyes, he looked far more imposing than a god. She should have cowered in fear, but instead he made her feel strong and defiant. She had absolute certainty he would never harm her, even if she provoked him.

“Where is Ammonptah? Please tell me.”

“I do not know.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I don’t. He merely—”

Nayari stepped forward, craning her neck to meet his gaze. “He what?”

“Gave me instructions to follow, and that’s what I will do. That and nothing more.”

“Tell me your name.”

“No.”

Annoyed beyond reason, Nayari whirled around and flung herself back into her room. She plunked the tray onto the shelf and fell into the bed, which creaked under her meager weight. The musty odor of it crawled into her nose, pushing aside the sweet smell of flowers that had lingered on her skin since her bath. How would that do? she thought. To smell of mold when Ammonptah came to claim her would be unseemly. He would be angry with the priests and acolytes for not taking proper care of his property.

And that last word echoed in her mind.
Property. I belong to Ammonptah, and I’m bound to do as he wishes.
She fell asleep with that thought battling with visions of the warrior, naked, his skin hot and sweaty, holding his thick, hard cock in his hand and writhing to the beat of the ceremonial drums.

Chapter Three

Grant ran one finger along the inside of his collar and tugged at the knot of his tie. He’d never known Del Monaco’s to be uncomfortably warm, but tonight…whew. He finished the last sip of his wine and motioned the waiter to bring the check.

Next to him, Cait was the picture of composure. Did she have any idea what her sexy story was doing to him? He certainly didn’t need to hear another word to know he wanted the scroll, at any cost. More than that, he wanted to know the rest of the story, and he wanted to hear it from those sensuous, coral-colored lips of hers. Were those the ceremonial drums he heard, or just the pounding of his own heart?

“Shall I take you back to the gallery now?” He had to be polite and give her an option at this point. If her story went any further, he aimed to let her know she’d have to finish it for him tonight—finish
him
before he lost his mind.

“I’m done for tonight, unless you’d like to look at the scroll again.”

“Then I’ll take you home? I could use a second cup of coffee.”

The look in her pale blue eyes told him he wouldn’t have to beg for an ending. “All right,” she agreed as they rose.

The waiter floated by and whisked away the folder and Grant’s credit card.

“Or maybe you could whip up some coq au vin.”

She laughed. “I’m fresh out of coq.”

“I can fix that.”

With the bill settled, Grant escorted Cait back to the sidewalk. The evening dinner crowds that had choked the avenue when they arrived were long gone, and the late night traffic had slowed.

“Which way?” he asked.

“We can walk from here, unless you’d prefer a quick cab ride.”

“It’s a great night for walking.” The temperature hovered in the high sixties, according to the display on the bank across the street. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, or a star, for that matter. Of course, in Midtown, the only twinkling lights usually came from buildings or air traffic. What he wouldn’t have given to see the river of stars that dusted the sky back in Nayari’s time.

He offered Cait his arm. “Where were we? Our lovely Nayari was dreaming of her virile warrior.”

“While he stood guard outside her door, keeping her safe—or so he thought—for the man who owned them both.”

“Where was Ammonptah? We still don’t know why he had Nayari brought to the temple.”

“The warrior was about to find out.”

“Does he have a name?”

Cait gave him an enigmatic smile. “Don’t you want to find out when Nayari does?”

“I’m impatient. Tell me now.”

“His name was Khanu. The meaning of his name isn’t clear, but there’s speculation it meant ‘within him resides the blood of kings’.”

“A lofty name for a warrior.”

“Perhaps he was destined to serve a higher purpose.”

“To save Nayari?”

“Or perhaps to stop a political coup that would have put an imposter on the throne of Egypt.”

“Now I’m really intrigued. What happened next?”

Hours passed and the oil pots that lit the dusty corridors of the temple burned low. One of the priests arrived to relieve Khanu at his post.

“There’s a pallet for you in the far room,” the priest told him. “Rest now.”

Khanu rubbed the stiff muscles of his neck and glanced back at the reed mat that separated him from Nayari. Her rhythmic breathing reached him, but he longed to push the barrier aside and see for himself that she slept peacefully.

“She’ll be safe,” the priest said.

“I must ask, do you know when Ammonptah will arrive?” Khanu admonished himself for such curiosity.

“We’ve been told only to give quarters to the woman. I don’t know for how long or for what purpose.”

Khanu gauged the answer and bowed to the priest. He made his way to the room that had been assigned to him and slept until dawn.

When he woke, he heard the commotion in the corridor and sprang to his feet. He heard Nayari’s voice raised in alarm and cursed himself for leaving her side.

He found her in the corridor outside her room, surrounded by four acolytes.

“There you are!” she said when he bolted through the small crowd. The others obediently moved out of his way.

“What’s happened?”

“They won’t allow me to go outside. I’ve been in this room all night, and I smell of oil smoke and stale rushes.”

Only a woman would be so sensitive. He smelled only jasmine and the enticing scent of female skin.

“I will escort her outside,” Khanu said. He waved the acolytes away from Nayari. “See that her room is cleaned before she returns.”

Nayari stared at him, her golden tiger-eyes wide as if she hadn’t expected him to take her side in the dispute. The women backed up, but eyed him warily, obviously uncertain whether he had the authority to make such a decision.

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