Lord of Desire - Page 36

"Ail-son," the Berber woman repeated with a beaming smile, nodding her head.

When the others began to laugh and giggle, Tahar clapped her hands. At once the Berber women swarmed into the tent, bearing armfuls of clothing and accessories. Alysson found herself surrounded and being urged into the bedchamber.

"Khemee ekkas," Tahar commanded when the curtain had fallen shut behind them all.

Alysson looked at her blankly.

"You will please to?" the woman asked in haltering French.

She seemed very proud of her ability with the strange language, and the others appeared highly admiring, too, for they nodded in excitement. Alysson was impressed, since she could speak absolutely no Berber, but she still couldn't comprehend the woman's French.

She shook her head, gesturing vaguely with her hands. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Please to what?"

"Esdig," Tahar explained as she began pulling at the foreigner's jacket and breeches.

It was then that Alysson realized they wanted her to undress. Immediately she backed away, eyeing them warily and shaking her head in refusal. "I am not taking off my clothes."

"Esdig, esdig, " the Berber woman repeated insistently.

But it was only when Tahar grasped a fold of her own robe and made rubbing motions with the fabric that Alysson understood they meant to wash her clothing for her.

With a pleased smile, she nodded. "Thank you! I would be eternally grateful if you would see to my laundry."

And so for the following hour, Alysson gave herself into the care of the Berber women, to be dressed and perfumed and adorned according to their customs.

First came a long chemise of sheer white linen worn next to the skin, and over this, a long length of blue-and-red striped cloth fashioned into a tunic. The tunic skirt was belted by a waist sash, while the bodice was folded double over the bosom, and secured by shoulder bands. For her feet she was presented with both soft leather sandals as well as a pair of yellow babouches—slippers with upturned toes.

When she was given combs for her hair, Alysson remembered Jafar promising to provide them for her, and grudgingly acknowledged his kindness. Apparently his royal munificence had interrupted his busy schedule long enough to see that she was decently attired and groomed.

After her hair had been braided and twisted up on her head, she was given a twig to chew, which Tahar called souak. To sweeten the breath, Alysson realized after some gesturing by the Berber woman. Next came a fragrant herbal cream, to rub into her sunburned skin. Then she was offered small pots and jars, which contained kohl to darken the eyes and eyebrows, and henna, the dark red-brown stain used to make the patterned tattooes on the Berber women's hands and feet and foreheads.

Alysson put her foot down, however, when they tried to beautify her with cosmetics. She would not paint her face or decorate her body with the heathen markings, or rouge her nipples, which to her extreme embarrassment, they seemed to want her to do. But she suffered the Berber women to arrange a colorful blue headdress over her hair— a square of cloth resembling a large handkerchief worn like a mantle.

There were many more garments, some that Alysson wasn't certain how to wear. It was difficult getting instructions, but between Tahar's negligible French, Alysson's inadequate Arabic, and the sign language that they both adopted, Alysson managed generally to comprehend. For courtesy's sake, she tried to learn the Berber word for each item, which caused much good-natured laughter among the Berber women. To her surprise, Alysson actually found herself enjoying the friendly exchange, even going so far as to forget that she was a captive of their fierce lord. When the pleasant interlude ended, she was disappointed to see the women go. She thanked them profusely for their gifts, responding to Tahar's "Adieu" with an invitation to visit her whenever they could spare the time.

When they were gone, Alysson began searching through the garments they had left for her. Earlier she had noticed an outfit that seemed more sedate and appropriate for her situation—a pair of loose brocade pantaloons, to be worn with a blouse and a short-waisted, long-sleeved bolero. She would feel more comfortable in those, Alysson decided, since they were quite like her breeches and jacket.

Pulling off the tunic and chemise she was wearing, she donned the baggy pantaloons and smiled at the way they swallowed her slender hips and legs. She was trying to figure out how to belt them with a sash when suddenly Alysson sensed she wasn't alone.

Looking up, she was startled to find Jafar standing there in the doorway, holding the curtain to one side as he made to enter. He was staring at her bare breasts as a hawk stares, his golden eyes glittering and intent.

With a gasp she dropped the sash and covered her naked bosom with her arms.

"Beautiful," he said slowly, and not in French.

Alysson was so shocked to realize he had spoken in English that she momentarily forgot her outrage at his spying and gaped at him. "You speak English!" she exclaimed, staring, at him in return.

Although Jafar feigned unconcern, he silently cursed himself for his slip. The last thing he wanted was for his lovely captive to recognize him. He would have to be far more careful. She was too clever to be misled for long, certainly if he continued to make mistakes like this one.

Lifting his gaze to meet her bewildered eyes, he shrugged. "I know a few words of your language," he replied in French.

At the sound of his arrogant tone, Alysson abruptly came to her senses. "How dare you!" she sputtered. "Get out of here this minute!"

"But this is my tent, ma belle." He moved silently toward her then, his body lithe as a cat's, the flowing skirt of his soft gray robe swirling around his long legs. Alysson retreated in panic, taking three frantic steps backward before she came up against the wall of the tent. Trapped, she stared at him, her cheeks flaming, her heart pounding. If he came a step closer, she would fight him . . .

But Jafar would not be denied. Reaching for her, he easily subdued her struggles and foiled her attempts to twist from his grasp. His hands took possession of hers, gently drawing her arms away from her body, till the dainty fullness of her breasts was bared to him.

Alysson s

Tags: Nicole Jordan Historical
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