But even though he wouldn't force her, she was very much afraid of his threat. She could sense his determination in his merest look. And she had little trouble interpreting his vow, though it remained unspoken between them.
He meant to seduce her.
The possibility terrified her, yet kept her in a state of strange physical excitement. She took to pacing the tent floor, driven by an intolerable tension.
The suspense was nerve-racking. In Jafar's company, she constantly had to remain on her guard, and when he was away, she had to be prepared for his return. The animal silence of his footsteps, however, never gave her any warning. She jumped whenever Jafar entered the tent. His presence filled the room, while his hawk-keen eyes searched her out, conveying the silent message, We shall he lovers.
His unrelenting intensity gave her no peace. And regardless of her determination to ignore him, Alysson found it nearly impossible.
His gentleness, however, alarmed Alysson most. For when he behaved toward her with kindness and courtesy, his manners were as impeccably civilized as any European gentleman's. At those times he made her forget that he was an unscrupulous savage, and she found herself unwittingly relaxing her guard.
Until nightfall. When night came, she always remembered with a vengeance just who Jafar was, and how vulnerable her position was, for it was then that he made her undress.
That first night after his devastating kiss and outrageous prediction, Alysson had felt herself quaking. They'd retired to the bedchamber to sleep, and Jafar had stretched out on the pallet, reclining on the pillows as regally as some Eastern potentate as he observed her every movement.
"Do you need help removing your clothes?" he asked when she hesitated. His tone was light and teasing, but the flames warming the depths of his eyes told her he would relish the opportunity to undress her.
Unfortunately, his taunt provoked Alysson into breaking her vow to ignore him.
"I wish you had sold me to those Arabs slavers," she retorted through gritted teeth. "Then at least I wouldn't have to endure you watching me."
He made a sweeping gesture that encompassed her. "This is precisely how it would be if you were sold as a slave- except that all your clothing would be forcibly removed, and your naked body would be subjected to many more pairs of eyes. Here you have only to endure mine."
Alysson clenched her teeth, willing herself not to respond, not to curse him or scream at him like she yearned to do.
When she remained silent, Jafar softened his voice to a murmur. "I would never allow any other man to view you. Your charms are meant for my eyes only."
She managed to keep her oath from his hearing, but it gave her no comfort that only he had the privilege to inspect her.
It gave her no comfort, either, when early the following morning, she awoke. To her acute dismay, she found herself curled against Jafar's warm, lean body, one hand resting on his hard chest, her relaxed fingers tangled in his chest hair. To her further dismay, he stirred in his sleep. Rolling toward her, he draped his arm possessively across her rib cage, pressing against the undercurves of her breasts. At the same time he drew his leg up to cover hers, till his knee rode intimately between her thighs. The masculine hardness was a sensual shock against her softness.
Deathly afraid to disturb him, Alysson lay there unmoving. Embarrassed heat flooded through her, along with another, more scandalous sensation. Desire. Against every inclination of common sense or reason, her body felt a shameful longing. For Jafar.
Desire.
She recognized the feeling, for he had aroused it in her the previous day when hed kissed and caressed her and shown her body how to respond. The result was the same now. Her nipples were taut and aching, her skin sensitive and shivery, her breath shallow and much too fast. And the hidden recesses between her thighs throbbed with a need she couldn't explain.
Lying here remembering the feel of his hot mouth on her breasts only made the throbbing worse. She wanted him to touch her there, now, and ease the urgent ache.
Unable to banish the fierce sensations, Alysson groaned silently. For the first time in her life, she was confronted with the depth of her own sexuality, and she deplored the wicked, helpless way her body was reacting. These wanton, abandoned feelings were startling to her, and quite, quite, humiliating. How could she feel this way toward such a man? How could she so easily dismiss her obligation toward Gervase, her longtime friend and suitor? She owed Gervase her loyalty, at the very least. The treacherous response of her body was a betrayal of him, as well as of herself.
With an effort, Alysson pretended sleep until Jafar stirred awake. It was all she could do not to flinch when he pressed a light kiss on her temple before he rose for the day.
Two mornings afterward, she woke a bit later. When her eyes fluttered open, she was totally unprepared for the shock she received. Jafar stood there naked, with his back toward her.
He seemed unaware of her as he finished his morning ablutions. He had a beautiful body, she thought, dazed, seeing the golden skin marred only by the scars of battle and the healing flesh wound on his arm made by her bullet. His powerful shoulders tapered to lean hips, with tight hard buttocks and a horseman's strong muscular thighs. His long legs were made of well-honed muscle, dusted with gilded hair. Then he turned.
Even as her gaze swept slowly downward, it faltered. Startled, Alysson stared at the shadowy triangle between his naked thighs. His manhood was fully aroused, jutting out proud and hard, startling in its size and power.
As if he sensed her scrutiny, he glanced down at her. Meeting her shocked eyes, he smiled.
"Sleeping with you has its unwanted effects," he said, his tone laced with wry humor.
Alysson wanted to hide her burning face in the pillows, but for the life of her, she couldn't look away. His compelling gaze demanded her attention.
Casually then, without haste, he reached for his tunic and pulled it on. But he was still watching her. Alysson could see the dark light of desire in the sensual, predatory eyes. And though he didn't touch her, she could feel the promise of his touch down the entire length of her body.
Finally managing to pry her gaze away, she gave him her back. She would not surrender to such a man, she vowed again silently. And yet seeing his nakedness made her even more disturbingly aware of the strange, incomprehensible stirrings of her own desire.