Viking Ecstasy (27 page)

❧

"This is the perfect time," Lysetta said, her eyes wild with excitement as she peered at Kahlid. "Tanaka and the barbarian have been fighting constantly, and the villagers are beginning to believe that the barbarians have been making raids on them in the night."

"I don't want to hasten into this," Kahlid replied, pushing himself a little further away from Lysetta on his bed. "I'm not sure the soldiers are willing to follow my command."

Lysetta huffed softly through her nose, then rose and walked naked across the room. She poured herself a goblet of wine. She made no effort to hide her disappointment in Kahlid for not immediately ordering the assassination of the pharaoh, the high priestess, and Tabor.

"The soldiers are sheep," Lysetta said quietly, shaking her head in open contempt. "Kill their leader and you become their leader. It is as simple as that."

"There's much about power that you do not understand," Kahlid replied, aware that Lysetta was anxious for his ascent to power so that she could share it. However, he had no intention of rushing his plans, particularly since, once they began, Lysetta would be one of the people to be assassinated.

Lysetta pouted at his insult, but then smiled. When she walked back to Kahlid's bed, there was a seductive sway to her hips. She curled beside Kahlid and offered him the goblet.

"Yes, there is a lot that I do not know," she agreed. "And I am impatient. But I only want what is best for you. I want you to have what you deserve. And you can't tell me that Tanaka deserves to be the high priestess."

"The pharaoh is a fool," Kahlid said. "But his foolishness will end soon. I have . . . given money to a man." He looked into a candle, watching the flame, his gaze distant and unfocused. "A dangerous man. As much in the way as the high priestess is to my plans, she's still just an annoyance and nothing more. The pharaoh is the real problem. Once he's out of the way, then nothing can stop me."

He turned his head slowly toward Lysetta and gave her a sleepy, dreamy smile. Everything was proceeding exactly as he wanted it to, from the rumors spreading about the abominable behavior of the Vikings against fair Egyptian maidens to the worsening relationship between Tabor and Tanaka.

"We've got to be patient," Kahlid continued. "If we rush this, something could go wrong. If we take our time and act only when the omens are right, then all our dreams will be realized."

Lysetta did not frighten easily, but as she listened to Kahlid and watched his eyes glaze over, she felt a marrow-deep fear shiver through her. Kahlid talked about we, but she sensed he really meant me, that she was no longer involved in his plans for the future.

"There are still few key soldiers I need to have aligned with me, but once I gain their allegiance, there'll be nothing to hold me back. If you control the soldiers and you are the spiritual leader, then you shackle the people with chains no one can break." He raised a finger heavenward, nodding his head, speaking slowly and distinctly, but to himself. "I have to be patient, that's all. Soon . . . everyone who has ever prevented me from receiving what is rightfully mine will receive just punishment."

Lysetta felt panic rising like molten lava inside her. She did not want to be patient —she could not be patient. Not with Yasir lurking in the village, possibly crowing about his affair with her; not will Tabor living like a prince and rejecting her when she let him know that she was his for the taking.

A few days earlier, Tabor had caught Yasir and threatened his life. Yasir rushed immediately to Lysetta and said he could not go through with the assassination: Tabor was too skilled a warrior for Yasir to assassinate him single-handedly. But Lysetta knew of no other assassins, and she was rightly afraid that the more men she confided in, the greater the chance of Kahlid learning of her plans. Seeing that Yasir was on the verge of walking away forever, Lysetta had seduced him. Previously, when she'd let him touch or kiss her, it had been repulsive but something she was willing to endure to achieve her goals. But this last time with Yasir was more than even her calloused sensibilities could take. His rubbery lips seemed to be everywhere on her in his frantic search for fulfillment — pressed against her mouth, her eyes and ears, her neck and breasts —and everywhere they touched, they left saliva behind.

The longer Lysetta had to keep Yasir in line, the more often she had to sleep with him. . . . and she simply couldn't do that ever again.

No wealth in Egypt was worth that.

"Kahlid, aren't you being a little over-cautious?" Lysetta asked softly.

Was that really fear she heard in her own voice? What if Kahlid had found someone else to satisfy him? Lysetta knew she was beautiful, but she was no longer young, and sometimes a man like Kahlid could only feel young and virile in the arms of a young girl. She pushed the thought from her head. This was not the time for such notions.

"I'm being as cautious as the situation warrants," Kahlid replied. When he looked at Lysetta again, she could tell that he had returned to the present. "What makes you think I'm making a mistake?"

"I never said I t-thought you were making a mistake." Lysetta tried to smile, as though to dismiss her own words, but her lips quivered instead, giving her the appearance of a woman on the verge of tears.

"Yes, you did," Kahlid replied, suddenly getting to his feet. With his passion so recently sated, Lysetta's flaws were glaringly apparent to him. "You just didn't say it quite that way, but you did mean that I am making a mistake."

"No, I didn't"

"Have I made a mistake with you? Have I misjudged you, Lysetta? You're a brilliant woman. We both know that. What we don't both know, though, is what thoughts go through that brilliant head of yours."

"Nothing! Nothing at all, really!"

Kahlid laughed then. He hadn't seen Lysetta squirm in a long, long time. In a day or two, he'd give Abdul a thick, gold coin, and tell him to let the killing begin. And once he'd given that order, the time that Lysetta would spend alive would be drastically limited.

"I'm glad that nothing is going through your head," Kahlid said with a smile. "I truly am. I know that you're lying, of course, but that doesn't really matter.

You wouldn't tell me an important lie, would you?"

"No, never an important lie!"

"You'd only lie to me about the unimportant things, isn't that so?"

There was no answer that Lysetta could give that would absolve her. He had intentionally maneuvered her into this defenseless position, so she said nothing. For a second she wondered if seduction would free her from his tightening web, but she dismissed the idea. Kahlid did not have a licentious gleam shining in his eyes; and if she weren't so confident in her own beauty, she might even have believed that he was looking at her naked body with a certain amount of scorn.

"No need to answer me," Kahlid said finally, breaking the silence. "You'd only be telling yet another lie, and I've grown quite weary of your lies."

❧

"May I enter?" Tanaka asked, leaning against the heavy marble doorway.

Tabor sat on a thick pillow before the hearth. When he looked up and saw Tanaka, his blue eyes were wary. He set aside the gold plate of honey-glazed baked duck, a delicacy in Egypt, and Tabor's favorite meal.

"Please," he said at last.

Tanaka stepped in, smiling to herself. The remains of the duck had been picked almost perfectly clean. Her great Viking warrior had a hearty appetite, and that was just one of the many things that she so adored about him.

"Did you like the duck?" He nodded, his eyes still wary. "Good. I ordered it especially for you."

"Thank you."

She hated it whenever Tabor was stiffly formal with her. She enjoyed her barbarian the most when he was exactly that—her loving, gentle, uncivilized barbarian.

"I know it is your favorite," Tanaka continued, walking slowly into the room, her mind spinning as she tried the impossible — to read what was going through Tabor's mind. When he wanted to hide his thoughts and feelings, Tanaka's powerful intuition was useless. "I wanted to do something to please you."

"My belly is full of good food," Tabor said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I need only to clap my hands and a beautiful servant will rush into this room and fill my goblet with beer. What more could I wish for?"

Tanaka would have been happier if he hadn't been quite so aware of how beautiful his servant was. And it would have put her mind more at ease if he didn't seem quite so contented. But she had planned for this evening with diligence and care, and she wasn't going to let residual anger get in the way.

"I know you well enough to know that there is much"— the word came out as a breathy purr of sensuality—"more that you could want. I've spent too many days and too many nights with you to believe that you've got everything you want."

"Too many?"

"Not nearly enough."

Tanaka took another step closer, then stopped. Tabor had not risen to greet her, nor had he genuflected as everyone else in the palace, with the exception of the pharaoh and his wife, would have done. There were times when that annoyed Tanaka, but not tonight. Tabor treated her as a woman, just a woman, nothing more, nothing less. She was not a high priestess when she was with him —at least not in his eyes. And tonight, being just a woman was as much as Tanaka wanted.

She had prepared for the evening with much forethought. Her gown was made of the finest woven linen in the land, dyed a shimmering midnight black, trimmed with polished seashells. The gown draped over her left shoulder, where the material was gathered and held together with a red ribbon two inches thick. From there the material spread out across her chest and back, covering her bosom. The slanting material was gathered again at her hip, the twin halves sweeping gracefully, forming a diagonal line high across her thighs. She wore sandals of goatskin that had just been made by craftsman that day. Around her left ankle was a slender gold chain, ornamented with bright gems held by gold wire.

"You look . . ." Tabor began, then stopped himself. There had been too many cross words between himself and Tanaka lately for him to forget them so quickly.

Tanaka knelt on a pillow near Tabor's hip, and her gown split, revealing the curve of her right thigh all the way to the hip. She noticed that Tabor's gaze went down to her legs and noticed, too, with some disappointment, that he did not let his gaze linger upon her very long.

She folded her hands in her lap, wishing and waiting for Tabor to finish his sentence. She took a shallow, calming breath and turned the full force of her ebony eyes upon Tabor, determined —with a rational, confrontational logic that under other circumstances would have pleased Tabor enormously, since she'd learned it from him —to get to the heart of their problem.

"How do I look, Tabor?" she asked.

"Beautiful."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

His eyes narrowed briefly, and there was just a hint of a smile curling his lips. "You'd made it clear that my opinion should remain unvoiced."

"Not with everything," Tanaka said.

She felt her confidence growing with each second. She was beautiful. She'd never really known it until Tabor had convinced her, and, now that he had, she wasn't going to let anyone —not him or the Fates or the gods — convince her otherwise.

"What do you want, Tanaka?"

Tanaka realized that it was a last bitter shard of pent-up anger that forced Tabor to question so bluntly, so rudely. She was determined to see beyond it, not to let minor problems prevent her from enjoying—sharing—major pleasures.

"You, of course. I've wanted you since you taught me to want you. But lately, rather than making each other feel . . . glorious, we make each other angry and despairing. And rather than reaching out across the differences that separate us so that we can hold hands, we point again to the differences, then turn our backs on one another."

Tabor smiled at the clarity and forcefulness of Tanaka's words. He pushed a hand through his shimmering blond hair, the muscles in his arm flexed. Seeing those muscles and that lustrous blond hair touched Tanaka in deliciously exciting ways.

"You've been feeling as though I only have time for you after I did everything else," Tanaka continued. She shifted her shoulders just slightly, so that the bodice of her gown separated enough to display the inner swell of her breasts. "I'll admit that I've let my position and power in the palace rule me. It's felt good to be back where I belong, doing what I've been trained to do. But you must admit that you've been less than accepting of our way of life here. You've told me and everyone else who would listen how superior your boats are to ours."

"But they are superior," Tabor replied.

Tanaka silenced him with a comically stern look. "Such a stubborn man," she murmured, shaking her head.

"Will you do me a favor?"

Tanaka hesitated. "What?"

"Let your hair down," Tabor said quietly, in that sensually raspy tone that said he was not nearly as calm as he pretended to be. "For me," he added, as though whispering a prayer.

I will do anything for you,
Tanaka thought. She did not say the words because this was not the time to voice such a truth. Later, when her erotic little plot had come to fruition, then she would tell Tabor everything she thought, everything she felt.

Slowly, feeling his heated gaze upon her, Tanaka reached up and removed the four shell combs that held her hair in place. Then she shook her head gently, sending the midnight tresses falling down her back and over her naked shoulders in waves of ebony splendor.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much," Tabor said, then reached for her.

Tanaka slipped away quickly, getting to her feet.

She saw the flash of annoyance in Tabor's eyes, the tightness that hardened his lips, and she responded with a smile, secure that she was playing this out exactly as it should be, having been taught by Tabor — the master teacher —that anticipation heightens satisfaction.

"I'm leaving you now," Tanaka whispered, her body tingling from head to toe as she looked down at Tabor. "But we'll be together again very soon. You've thought that I placed my position as high priestess above you. Tonight, with the help of Thoth, I'm going to prove to you that you're wrong."

"Thoth?"

"Thoth is the Egyptian god of wisdom and sorcery. We look to Thoth for wisdom . . . and magic."

"How with Thoth help us?" Tabor asked. He reached for Tanaka's ankle, by nature an impatient man, but she skipped out of reach with a laugh.

"Tonight, you're going to be where no man has ever been," Tanaka whispered, the words too important to say louder. "Tonight, you are going to go to my quarters. The guards will be gone. I'll dismiss the servants. No one will ever know that you are there. And tonight, my darling barbarian, I will show you how much I have missed our happiness together."

"But you have said it is forbidden for a man to enter the high priestess's quarters."

"It is. But you taught me how pleasurable the forbidden can be."

Tanaka yearned to kiss Tabor. She wanted to kiss him before she left him, but she also knew that if she did, if she allowed herself to touch him, she would not be able to let him go . . . not until the burning, wet hunger that gnawed at her was satisfied.

The look in Tabor's eyes told her that whatever their differences and whatever their arguments, they were forgotten now, at least for this one night.

"Meet me tonight," she said as she backed toward the doorway. "When that candle has burned down, come to me, my darling." She pointed to a stubby candle that would be extinguished in two hours. "Come to me, and I will prove that I think only of you."

Tanaka turned then and ran from the room, gems tinkling at her ankle. If she had not run from Tabor at that moment, no power in heaven or on earth could have made her leave.