At midmorning on the following day Yasmin began Skye’s les-
sons in love. She looked with dislike on the young woman she
intuitively knew to be the most serious rival she had ever had for
Khalid’s affections. Still, she reasoned, the sooner Skye was taught
what she needed to know, the sooner she’d be out of Khalid’s villa.
And Skye must be taught well, for then Khalid would be pleased.

“Disrobe for me,” commanded Yasmin, and when Skye quickly
complied, her caftan dropping to the floor, Yasmin scolded, “No!
No! You show all the sensuousness of a donkey! Let me show you.”
And her fingers undid the frog closings on her pink caftan as grace-
fully as if she’d been playing a musical instrument. Turning, she
gently shrugged the garment from her shoulders, exposing her
smooth fair skin. Slowly, slowly, she allowed the garment to slide
downward, revealing the line of her back, her plump round buttocks,
her legs. Then she turned to face Skye. Her breasts were big, but
firm. Sliding to her knees, her head bent to touch the floor and she
murmured huskily, “As my lord commands.”

Then suddenly Yasmin stood up briskly and said matter-of-factly,
”That is how to disrobe properly. You try it.”

Quietly Skye picked up her robe and dressed. Then, imitating
exactly and with equal skill Yasmin’s movements, she removed the
caftan again. Sinking to the floor at last, her dark head bowed, her
soft voice clear and sweet, she said, “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” came the terse reply. “It is fortunate you learn quickly.

“We will now discuss perfumes. Sit down. No, don’t bother
dressing. I must show you the proper places to anoint yourself. A
woman’s body is a work of art, but in order to remain a masterpiece
you must work at it constantly.” She reached into the basket by her
side and then handed Skye some green leaves. “Mint. Chew them.
Your breath should always be fragrant and your teeth clean. All of
our women are perfection. That is what makes them famous, and
justly so. We are not common street trulls to be had for a few sequins.” Yasmin carefully laid out several bottles on the carpet.
”Musk, ambergris, attar of roses. All of our perfumes have one of
these as a base.” She uncorked them and held each out so Skye
might smell. “Which do you prefer?”

“The roses.”

“Good! I would have chosen that one for you myself. Though
my lord Khalid tells me that you are not a virgin, there is an air of
innocence about you that we will concentrate upon. It appeals to
many men. I will use the attar of roses to demonstrate.” She stood
up and, taking the stopper between her thumb and forefinger, stroked
it generously between the deep valley of her breasts. Carefully lifting
each of the heavy globes, she perfumed beneath them. Next the
stopper touched the base of her throat, the back of her neck, the soft
spots behind her ears. Then came her wrists, beneath her arms, and
in the blue-veined hollows of her inner arm. Yasmin dipped the
stopper again and touched it to her navel, the backs of her legs, her
ankles, the arches of her feet, and her Venus mound. “You must go
lightly here,” she explained, “for men sometimes enjoy the sweet
taste of a woman, and that should not be overwhelmed by another
scent.”

Skye appeared puzzled, and Yasmin gazed at her enviously. “You
really don’t remember, do you?” she said. “Allah, how I envy you!
It will be like the first time again for you, but without the pain of
virginity.” Then catching herself, she handed Skye the attar of roses
and said brusquely, “Let me see you do it now.”

Carefully Skye imitated her teacher, and when she had finished
she looked expectantly toward Yasmin.

“You have forgotten one area,” said Yasmin, taking the bottle
stopper from her student. Cupping one of Skye’s breasts, she dotted
the scent beneath it.

“Don’t!”

To the older woman’s surprise, Skye’s face was drained of color,
her body stiff. Her eyes held horror. Yasmin was genuinely fright-
ened. “What is it, Skye?! Are you all right?”

Slowly the fear drained from the younger woman’s eyes, and she
said, bewildered, “I don’t believe I like being touched by another
woman.”

“What do you remember, Skye?”

“Nothing. I remember nothing, but when you touched me…”
She shivered with genuine revulsion.

Yasmin was concerned. What if Skye didn’t like being touched
by men either? She could hardly be a successful whore then, and
Khalid el Bey’s investment would be lost. Normally Yasmin would
not have introduced the subject of male anatomy until a later lesson, but she felt she must know before she went any further. If the girl
was emotionally unstable she should be disposed of now. Yasmin
clapped her hands and said to the answering slave girl, “Fetch my
new eunuch, Ali.”

Then, turning to Skye, she said, “There are two ways to geld a
male. If it is done when they are young, all is removed. But the
mortality rate is high. The other way is to remove the male’s seed
sac, but leave the rod. We buy only that kind of eunuch, for they
are better-natured. They are also invaluable in teaching our girls the
things they must learn about a man’s body. Ah, Ali, come in! Come
in! Skye, this is Ali. Is he not beautiful?”

The young man flushed. Skye let her eyes slide over him. He
was indeed good-looking, tall, with softly golden skin, dark curly
hair, and liquid brown eyes. “He is gorgeous, Yasmin. You are
indeed fortunate.”

Yasmin smiled smugly, then said sharply to the man, “Ali, dis-
robe!” She looked quickly to see the effect this would have on Skye.
Would she faint? Was she fearful? The eunuch undid his long robe
and, removing it, laid it carefully on a chair. Then he stood straight,
awaiting further instruction. Yasmin glanced toward Skye. “What
do you think of him?”

The younger woman looked puzzled. “As I have said, Yasmin,
he is gorgeous.”

“His nakedness does not offend you, or frighten you?”

“No, should it?”

“No, but some women are fearful nonetheless. Now, Skye, I want
you to go to Ali, put your arms about him, and press your body to
his.”

Skye did as Yasmin commanded, sliding her arms around the
eunuch’s neck, rubbing instinctively in a very provocative way
against the young man’s soft body. He shuddered, nuzzled her ear,
squeezed one of her buttocks, then cupped a breast in his hand. Her
eyes grew dark with desire, and she swayed slightly.

“Mistress!” Ali’s voice was pleading, and Yasmin laughed. She
had learned what she needed to know. Skye might dislike a woman’s
touch but she enjoyed a man’s. The lessons could continue. Without
giving Ali another thought, she dismissed him. He fled, gathering
his robe.

“What a funny creature,” Skye observed. “Didn’t he like me?”

Yasmin laughed again. “He liked you very much, and had you
been alone he might have made love to you. I will allow him to do
so when you have more knowledge. We use these young eunuchs
for that purpose, as we can hardly practice technique on our gentlemen.” She looked candidly at Skye. “You’re a good student, but
that is all we will do today. I will come tomorrow at the same time.”

After Yasmin had dressed and gone, Skye sat quietly for a few
minutes. Then her hands crept upward to cup her own breasts. Gently
she caressed her body and was amazed to see her nipples harden.
She thought about what it would be like to have a man stroke her,
and felt a tingling between her legs. It was all so pleasurable. What
other lovely things had her cursed memory wiped away? Sighing,
she stretched naked on the cushions and fell asleep.

That evening Khalid el Bey sent for Skye. She was fresh from
the baths and had just finished perfuming herself. Sliding a light-weight wisteria-colored silk caftan over her body, she ran barefoot
through the short, carpeted hallway that separated her room from
his apartments.

“How lovely you are!” he said as she entered the room. He noted
the sheen of her skin and the way her midnight-colored hair curled
in damp tendrils about her face. “Yasmin tells me your lessons went
well. She feels you have a talent and will progress quickly. She is
pleased with you, and therefore I am pleased.”

Her face became radiant. “I want to please you, my lord Khalid!
Without you I should be nothing.”

His big hand cupped her chin, and his dark eyes looked into her
blue ones. “I do not think so, my little lost bird. I do not think so.”
Then smiling, he asked gently, “What have you learned?”

“Just perfuming, and the proper way to disrobe before a gentle-
man.”

“Disrobe for me,” he commanded, sitting cross-legged amid the
colorful cushions. “Pretend I am to be your gentleman.”

She stood very still before him. Her fingers hardly seemed to
touch the tiny pearl buttons of her robe before it opened. He had not
but the barest glimpse of her breasts when she twirled gracefully.
The silken robe slid with agonizing slowness down the long line of
her back and over the perfect twin moons of her buttocks. She turned
to face him, her eyes modestly lowered. Sinking to the floor, she
said softly but clearly, “As my lord commands.”

For a moment he stared at the gleaming dark head that touched
his slipper. He was amazed not only by her easy skill, but by his
own reaction to it. Beneath his brocaded robe he was swollen and
aching, and he couldn’t quite believe it. He had always maintained
a perfect control over his body.

She raised her head, and their eyes met. “Do I please you, my
lord?” she asked innocently.

“Very much,” he murmured huskily. Don’t! Don’t! his saner self warned him, but he heard himself saying, “Sit next to me, Skye.”
And when she nestled in the curve of his arm he bent over her and
touched her lips. They parted easily beneath his, and he drew her
scented breath into his own mouth. His tongue sought for hers, found
it and they caressed one another with burning softness until he be-
came aware of her hands seeking his, and placing them on her naked
body.

‘Touch me, my lord Khalid!” she whispered urgently. “Please,
please touch me!”

Fighting to control himself, he allowed his hands to slide over
her body. He had never felt such a desire in himself for any woman.
Her skin was softer than anything he had ever known, and when she
moaned with undisguised pleasure he trembled. He slipped his own
robe off. You must not! She is unschooled! You will ruin everything!
warned his saner self, but his lips slid down the pure pillar of her
throat, and his hungry mouth captured a taut nipple, sucking pas-
sionately on it until, with an angry half-cry of desperation, he yielded
to his own desires.

Swinging himself over her burning body, he impatiently parted
her thighs and thrust himself into the welcoming warmth of her. She
sighed and with a deeply rooted feminine instinct, she wrapped
herself about him and moved her lush body to match his frantic
rhythm. Her slender fingers slid down his long, smooth back, knead-
ing his muscled buttocks until he whimpered with pleasure. Within
her own body she felt a tingling tenseness that built with unbelievable
intensity until, cresting, it burst over her like a giant wave lifting
her high and then dashing her down into a swirling darkness.

“Skye! Skye! Ah, my beautiful beloved,” he murmured against
her ear. He caressed her gently.

“I did not remember until now how beautiful making love could
be,” she whispered.

“Do you remember anything else?” he questioned hastily.

“No. Only that I have done before what we just did, and that it
was good.”

“I should not have taken you,” he said. “What if I had frightened
you?”

“You did not frighten me, my lord Khalid, but perhaps I dis-
pleased you with my lack of skill.”

He laughed weakly. “No, Skye, you did not displease me. It is
true you lack the skill of a trained courtesan, but this same lack of
skills has given me a very pleasurable time.”

“Must I continue my lessons with Yasmin, my lord?”

“Yes. Your innocence has charm, my beloved, but there is no harm in your learning our ways. You will learn to pleasure your
gentlemen in a variety of ways. It is your duty as a woman to be
knowledgeable in the arts of love, and as Yasmin teaches you, you
will show me.”

She lay on her back breathing quietly and evenly. He lay on his
side so he might gaze down at her. His fingers traced a delicate
pattern down her breasts and torso. Shivering, she raised her blue
eyes to him. Bending down, he kissed her mouth with great tender-
ness, then her eyelids. “Go to sleep, Skye, and sleep in the knowl-
edge that I will watch over you.”

Her eyes closed. He again wondered who she was and where she
had come from. A noblewoman without a doubt, but from where?
Her coloring ruled out the far north, and he did not believe her to
be either Spanish or French. When she had first regained conscious-
ness he had spoken to her in French and she had answered him, but
he knew her accent was not native to France. Could she be English,
or one of the Celtic races? Unless she regained her memory, they
were unlikely ever to know.