Page 71 of Silver Angel

“And you liked it?”

“Will you have me drawn and quartered if I don’t give the right answer?” A squeeze to each breast made her forget about teasing him. “Yes, you conceited man. Is that what you want to hear?”

His smile nearly melted her heart. “Do you know how much pleasure it gives me, to know you belong solely to me?”

“I might, if you belonged solely to me as well.” After a moment, the blush spread up her cheeks. God, where had that come from? “What I mean—”

“No, I won’t let you take it back,” he interrupted with a chuckle. “I was right. You English cannot share, can you?”

Whether she could share or not, she didn’t share his humor now. “If you mean we believe in one man for one woman, yes, indeed, we do,” she snapped. “But a man who possesses nearly fifty women wouldn’t understand that!”

“Are you jealous, little moon?”

“Certainly not!”

“Then why should it bother you, how many women I own?”

“It’s indecent!”

“By your standards. By mine, the number is actually quite small.”

She couldn’t argue about that, not when his very religion sanctioned bigamy for the men of this country. He would never understand her views, and would ignore them anyway, so why waste her breath? But it infuriated her, honest to God it did, that his faithlessness was a matter of course here, but heaven forbid if one of his women should even be looked at by another man.

“I think,” she said with stiff hauteur, “that I should return to the harem.”

“Now you are angry with me.”

“Not at all,” she insisted, though the tight set of her lips put the lie to her words. “I was only anticipating your wishes, since I was told that when you’ve finished with one of your women, you send her away immediately.”

How she had dared to say that, when everything else Vashti had told her about this first time had proved untrue, Chantelle didn’t know. And Jamil apparently didn’t like what he was hearing either. His hands tightened on her unconsciously as he leaned backward, and his expression turned dark and ominous.

“Who told you such a thing?”

Chantelle’s irritation withered under that tone. She might not like Vashti, and had even more reason not to like her now that she knew the girl had deliberately lied to her, but she wouldn’t wish Jamil’s anger and retribution on anyone, knowing full well what forms of punishment he could so casually have administered.

“What does it matter?” she evaded.

“Who?”

“I don’t recall.”

His eyes narrowed even more at her stubbornness. “And what else were you told?”

“Nothing,” and then more firmly, “Really.” But she might as well have saved her breath.

“Things to make you fear me?” he guessed correctly. “Who do I have to thank for prolonging my frustration? Who was assigned to instruct you?”

She knew he could find out easily without her telling him. If he was going to be furious with anyone, it might as well be with her. Vashti’s lies had not accounted for all her fears, after all.

“You’re wrong, your highness.” She reverted to formality, their intimate position forgotten for the moment. “Nothing that was told to me could have made me fear you more than your own actions had done.”

“You still think I would hurt you?” he demanded, more in amazement than in anger.

“You’re hurting me now,” she replied quietly.

He finally became aware of the flesh he was squeezing in his agitation and released her breasts, instantly contrite. But she didn’t give him a chance to apologize.

“However,” she continued, “that was still not the cause of my reluctance to share your bed. I was raised to believe that no virtuous woman would give her virginity to any man other than her lawful husband. To do otherwise would cause shame and ruin.”