Feathers on the wind...two seeking souls are torn apart.
Betrayed, an English Lord forced to explore his unknown heritage, will find his future hinges on his past.
Deceived, sold into slavery, an innocent girl must survive the hedonistic excesses of a Turkish harem.
An enemy works behind the scenes to keep them apart. Two Countries battle for their allegiance. In the end, they'll surrender only to each other...
Who can they trust? Will the two souls become one or fight separately?
A knock at the door brought his head around, jarring him out of his circular thoughts. Seuliman moved to the portal, his cat-sleek walk making it seem as though he floated along the ground, and Jamal wondered anew over the grace exhibited by the hulking eunuch. The servant bowed slightly, stepping aside to allow entrance to the person standing in the doorway.
Jamal tightened his jaw in disgust, an aggrieved breath blowing out. His eyes went cold and brooding as he viewed the slim woman bowing before him. So far, he had managed to circumvent his father's plans without endangering the women being sent to him. He had three women occupying his harem; women he had not touched. Now his father sent this girl, and as far as Jamal was concerned, she was the last straw. The girl was slender but curved in all the right places. Her dark hair fell straight as a shadowed waterfall to below her trim waist. Taller than the other girls had been, she looked older, and her eyes were huge and sultry with sensual knowledge. Obviously, she was virgin in flesh only.
He beckoned, and as he watched her walk towards him, Jamal felt heat kindle in his blood. Every one of her separate parts moved in concert with the others, creating a lilting symphony. The thin garments that barely covered her rippled with the wind of her movements, and Jamal's eyes were drawn, all unwillingly, to the jutting peaks of the girl's generous breasts. She had rouged her nipples, and their seductive, scarlet color was easily discernible through the semi-transparent silk.
Feeling overly warm, Jamal swallowed to ease his dry throat. Tearing his gaze from the luscious sight before him, he gestured for Seuliman to draw nearer. "Escort the young lady to the quarters prepared for her," he commanded hoarsely.
"My Lord, I beg you—" The young girl prostrated herself before him. "I have not been with my Lord for an hour, and the Sultan—may he live forever—will know this. He will have me killed for not attempting to please my Lord." Her fear was apparent in her trembling limbs.
Jamal cursed, rescinding his order. In his haste to rid himself of this girl, who should not have been a temptation, he had forgotten his father's wily manipulation. And he could not deny that this girl was proving to be a strong temptation. He had been celibate for almost two years, and his normal urges had just woken up, becoming immediate and urgent. Besides this woman's obvious maturity, she was displaying nothing of the fright and timidity the three earlier women had suffered from. This bold lass stood eyeing him so hungrily, Jamal almost expected her to lick her lips. What could he do to pass the required time without giving in to his growing need?