“The love will come, sweetness. I want you safe.”

She raised her face to him. “Then gladly shall I be your wife, my
lord!” Her blue eyes were shining with trust and even, he thought,
a little happiness. “I promise to make you happy,” she told him
shyly.

“You already make me happy,” he told her, and then his mouth
sought hers, tasting and giving the sweet sensual delights she seemed
to crave from him. His hands caressed the small globes of her breasts,
and then his tongue was torturing the pink nipples to a peak of
excitement, circling round and round the sweetly sensitive flesh until
her breathing became ragged. He lowered her to the cushions and
his hands gently spread her thighs. Tenderly he entered her, taking her there on the floor, delighting in her sigh of pleasure as his pulsing
shaft thrust deep.

Her soft hands began stroking his back, sliding slowly down its
length to cup and fondle his round buttocks. “Khalid! Oh, my
Khalid!” she whispered with a hot little breath against his ear. He
shivered. “Love me, my lord! Oh, love me well, my lord!” She
exhorted him and, catching his rhythm, she moved with him until
both of them were lost in the wildly spinning vortex of their shared
passion.

So great was the desire they aroused in each other that Skye
fainted and Khalid, to his amazement, came close to losing con-
sciousness himself. As his seed thundered into her hidden valley he
shook fiercely with the intensity of his passion. Drained, he rolled
from her and gathered her into his arms, raining kisses on her beau-
tiful face. “Oh God, I adore you! I adore you!” he murmured over
and over again, and as she slowly climbed from the darkness she
heard someone’s voice worshiping her. “Niall,” she murmured
softly. “Niall!”

Khalid stiffened. “Skye, sweetness,” he said gently, “Skye, open
your eyes.” And when she obeyed he said, “Who is Niall, my
beloved?”

Immediately her eyes became clouded and confused. “Niall?” she
asked, puzzled. “I know no Niall.”

He sighed. Whoever Niall was, Khalid envied him very much.
Skye must have loved Niall. Still-it was he, Khalid, who now
possessed her, and he would not lose her, as mis Niall had done.
”Sleep, my love,” he said cradling her against his chest. And slowly
her breathing became even and regular.

He lay awake most of the night struggling with himself. Was it
possible that she was regaining her memory, or was the outcry just
a fluke, never to be repeated? The doctor had said that Skye would
not find herself again unless faced with the identical situation that
had caused her trauma, and the chances of that happening were so
remote as to be impossible. There was no danger of her recovering.
He would marry her! Was he not entitled to some happiness? He
wanted her, and he wanted the children of her loins.

He rose with the first light, and left her sleeping. In his dayroom
his body servant lay sleeping before the door. Gently, Khalid nudged
him with a slippered foot. When the slave’s eyes flew open, Khalid
said, “Fetch my secretary immediately. I will be in the library.”
Stumbling to his feet, the slave hurried off. Drawing his white robe
about him, Khalid el Bey went to his library to await the secretary.
He arrived a few minutes later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I am sorry to bring you from your bed so early, Jean, but there
are some urgent matters.” The secretary nodded, sat, and took up
his pen. A French captive, Jean gave thanks for his monastery ed-
ucation because it made him useful as a secretary. Otherwise, he
would now be in the mines like so many others.

Khalid el Bey spoke. “Draw up manumission papers for the slave
girl known as Skye. I want her legally free. Then draw up a marriage
contract between the freedwoman known as Skye, and myself. Her
bride’s price shall be this house, the estate, and twenty-five thousand
gold dinars. Consult the mullah for the exact wording.

“Then,” he continued, “send for the astrologer, Osman. I wish
a consultation today. Wait! Before anything you must send a message
to the Lady Yasmin telling her that all lessons are postponed until
further notice. Say nothing else. That should get you started. I will
return later.”

As Khalid el Bey left, Jean heard him order a waiting slave, “See
that Jean is sent breakfast immediately,” and the little Frenchman
marveled that his master was so thoughtful. This was not the first
time, either. The bey’s good manners had won his secretary’s loyalty
from the very first.

Jean wondered what was in his master’s mind. He could have
any woman without marriage. Why marriage? And Yasmin would
be very angry. But Jean’s Gallic logic was on the side of his lord’s
decision. It was time he settled down and had children. And besides,
the lady Skye was the fairest woman Jean had seen in years.

Khalid el Bey returned to his bedchamber. Skye was gone, and
he knew she had returned to her own chambers. Following her there,
he heard giggles coming from the bathing room and found Skye and
the pretty twin Ethiopian slave girls all splashing about the scented
pool. He watched for a moment, struck by the vivid contrast of their
wet bodies-ivory and ebony, sleek and shining.

Skye saw him first and, swimming over to the shallow end of the
pool, came partway up the steps and held out her hand in invitation.
She was like a goddess standing there in her nude young beauty,
and he could feel his desire rising. He held his arms out and the two
slave girls scrambled from the pool to remove his robe. Nude, his
desire became visible to all. Skye’s blue eyes twinkled and, throwing
him a saucy look, she dove back into the pool, giving him a delicious
view of her sleek flanks. “Leave us!” he growled to the two girls,
and dove after Skye.

He was amazed to find what a strong swimmer she was. She
laughed mischievously at him and dove beneath the water to emerge
in midpool. His own laughter sounded now. “Where in the name
of the seven djins did you learn to swim like that, you vixen?”

Her blue-green eyes widened innocently, and she shrugged.
”Alas, my lord Khalid. I know not. Are you not afraid to take such
a wife to your bosom? Who knows what else I may know?”

He swam over to her and, gently, with a restrained passion that
she instantly sensed, he took her face between his thumb and fore-
finger. His golden amber eyes regarded her gravely. “I am not afraid
to take such a wife to my bosom, Skye. Whatever surprises are in
store for us will only serve to make our life more piquant. I love
you, my little lost one. I love you!”

Slim white arms slid up around him. Her small round breasts
pressed against the dark furred mat of his chest as she offered him
her lips. “Khalid, be sure, I would not hurt so good a man. You are
all I know, and I should be lost without you, but is that enough for
you? I can offer only myself, and I do not even know very much
about who I am.”

“What is between us is good, Skye. Your lovely body responds
well to mine. We like each other, and more couples than not have
started life together with less. Do not fear, my love. You do not
cheat me. It is a good bargain we make between us. Your concern
for me does you credit. But now, my beautiful one,” he swept her
up in his arms, “I want to make love to you again.”

She wiggled, wet and protesting, against him. “It is morning!”

“A most delightful time,” he agreed, laying her on the sun-
warmed tiles that surrounded the pool. He straddled her.

“Someone will see us, Khalid,” she protested.

“No one would dare to disturb us,” he growled. His staff was
hard and seeking against her thighs. “I want you, Skye. I want your
tempting little body. I want you hot and sweet and yielding beneath
me,” he whispered against her ear. She shivered deliciously as his
tongue explored her ear, and shivered again as he moved downward
along the scented length of her neck, biting gently at her silken
shoulder. Skye soon forgot the bright sunshine. Khalid’s hands were
on her hips, stroking and stroking the fires of her passions. He
suckled at her breasts, drawing a cry of pleasure. “Open your legs
for me, now, my love,” he murmured. “That’s it, my darling, take
me into your fiery sweetness. Ahh… Skye, your little honey-oven
is made for me! Hold me tightly, my love! Ahhh!”

His words aroused her greatly. His hands never stopped loving
her body, and when his great rod entered into her she felt filled to
overflowing with him. His body movement was strong and rhythmic,
each stroke bringing her nearer and nearer to sweet oblivion. She
climbed higher and higher. Then she was caught in a jeweled whirl-
pool, and she heard a long soft woman’s cry mingled with a great
masculine sob.

Her next conscious thought was that the sun was hot on her face,
and she heard water lapping against the tiled sides of the pool. She
opened her eyes, and looked about. He lay on his back, eyes closed,
but his voice brought a furious blush to her cheeks. “You were made
to pleasure a man,” he said, “and I am grateful that that man is me.
After we have breakfast, I shall see Osman the astrologer, and he
will tell me what day this week is most favorable for our marriage.
I am having Jean draw up papers freeing you, Skye.”

She pressed herself into the curve of his arm. “Oh, my Khalid,
you are so kind to me! I swear I shall make you a good wife!”

He smiled and caressed her. “I know you will, my love,” he
answered her.

They breakfasted on yogurt, green figs, and boiling-hot Turkish
coffee. Afterward Skye returned to her own apartments, and Khalid
el Bey welcomed Osman, who greeted him by saying, “So, my old
friend! You have finally fallen in love again.”

Khalid laughed. “I have no secrets from you, do I, Osman?”

“The stars tell me all, my lord. And they tell me some things
about your love that you might be interested in knowing. She comes
from a green and misty land to the north, a land peopled by strong
spirits and great psychic forces. She was born beneath the sign of
the ram which, like all fire signs, is a strong and passionate one.”

Khalid el Bey leaned forward eagerly. “How can you know all
this, Osman?”

“Because, my lord, such a woman has recently appeared in your.
own chart.”

“I want to marry her.”

“I cannot stop you, my lord.”

“You do not sound enthusiastic, Osman. What is it you are not.
telling me?”

“She will not remain with you, Khalid. It is not her fate. Her fate ‘
is back among her own people, and so it. is written in the stars. There
are many men in her life, but she will always steer her own course,
rule her own destiny. One man in particular stands out in her life.
Their paths have crossed before and will most assuredly cross again.
It is with this man that she shares her soul, my friend, not with you.
Can you not just enjoy her while she is with you? Why must it be
marriage?”

He was shaken. The astrologer had always been accurate. “Will
it make any difference if I marry her?”

“No, my lord, it will not.”

“Then I shall marry her. For I love her above all women, and
would place her above all women.”

“And when she leaves you, will you let her go?”

“She will not leave me, Osman. She will not leave me because
of the children she will give me. She is not a woman who would
abandon her babes. She will give me children, won’t she?”

“I cannot be sure, my lord. She will be mother to several children,
but without a comparison of her exact birthday and yours, I cannot
tell you for certain.”

“She will bear me sons!” he said positively, and Osman smiled
faintly.

Still, he was concerned for his friend. The woman brought a
confusion into Khalid el Bey’s chart. There was a dark area now
that Osman could not fathom, and it worried him. Still, if his friend
insisted on marrying her, then at least he would pick the best day.
He scanned his charts carefully, made swift new calculations, and
finally pronounced, “Saturday, at moonrise, you will take her as
your wife.”

“Thank you, my friend. You will come, of course, and celebrate
with us.”

“Yes, I shall come. Is it to be a large celebration, Khalid?”

“No, Osman. Just a half-dozen or so are to be invited-my banker,
the head of the merchant’s guild, the mullah, the Turkish comman-
dant, and my secretary, Jean.”

“What of Yasmin?”

“I think not.”

“Yasmin loves you, Khalid.”

“Yasmin thinks she loves me, Osman, and therefore she will
accept my plans because of her belief in me. Besides, she will have
no further contact with Skye. I cannot allow my wife to associate
with a whore.”

Osman had to laugh. “There, my friend Khalid, speaks both the
Spaniard and the Moslem in you.” He stood up. “Until Saturday,
my lord Bey, and I wish you luck with Yasmin.”

Khalid el Bey sat pondering for a few moments after Osman had
left. The astrologer was right. Yasmin would have to be dealt with,
and the sooner the better. Rising, he called for his horses and, in
the silent midafternoon heat, he rode down to the heart of the city,
to the House of Felicity.