Free Turkish Delights Series by Liz Crowe Page B

stacked in her arms. Vivian dumped an entire bottle of lavender scented flakes into the large, claw foot tub, pulled her clothes off, and stepped into the steaming water. The girl fussed around, putting out towels, picking up Viv’s clothes, making a huge show of not looking at her.
    “If you have something to say, say it,” Vivian grumbled as she sank deep into the flowery smelling water. Grateful she had enough colloquial Turkish to make her point, she stared at the girl who was blushing and shuffling her feet nervously.
    “Missus, it’s Mister Deniz.”
    Vivian stared at her. “What about him?”
    “He’s been here, a couple of times, asking about you. He is so very rich, and handsome and successful.” The girl’s face got all moony, irritating Vivian to no end.
    “Yes, well maybe he has a crush on you, that’s why he keeps coming around? I know it’s not me he wants. He proved that.”
    The girl frowned at her. “Oh no, missus, he is very much asking about you. He is obviously taken with you. I think it very romantic. And sad, he always looks so sad.”
    “Sit down already, you’re making me nervous.” Vivian didn’t mean to sound bitchy, but the girl obviously wanted to tell her all this. As if it mattered. “I don’t know what to do, honestly. I….” Vivian was alarmed to feel tears slip out of her eyes. She ducked back down under the bubbles, ran her hands across her breasts. Her nipples had hardened at the thought of him. She sighed and slipped a hand between her legs, pressing, as if holding something back, needing something she couldn’t identify. The girl sat on the ornate bench positioned at the mirror.
    “You should go to him, missus. We all think so. He’s the son of our beloved Deniz uncle, his parents worked so hard to provide him with money and an education and now he owns several companies, did you know?”
    Vivian yanked her hand up and clutched the edge of the tub. Shook her head, unable to speak. The girl kept talking.
    “Yes, he does. His construction company just got a new contract. He told us yesterday. They are building a large new hotel. And he bought into Imperio Ottomano—the rug and spice company that has twelve different locations and sells to all the tourists and foreigners.” She sighed. Vivian felt a stab of jealousy when she realized this girl had a major crush on the man. But she startled when the young woman spoke next. “You must prepare yourself for as man such as this. Are you clean?”
    Vivian frowned at her. “What do you mean? I’m always clean.”
    “No, missus, you must be clean of all body hair. It is the way of the Ottomans. He would want you that way.”
    Vivian blushed and sank back into the water. When she reemerged, the girl was kneeling by the tub, her dark eyes earnest. She took Vivian’s hand and whispered as if there were anyone within earshot who cared. “I will have the driver take you tomorrow. There is an old woman who works magic with her sugar waxes. Then, you should to the hammam , around the corner. Pray to Allah . Be cleansed and go to him.”
    Vivian’s mind spun. The whole houseful of servants wanted her to be with him? How strange. She stood, stepped out of the tub as the smooth scented water sluiced down her body. The girl toweled her off, lingering over her hardened nipples, running the towel between her legs, studying her with an intensity that made Vivian blush. “You are beautiful. Womanly. You will have much love with him and have many beautiful children. It is destined. I feel it.” She passed her rough hand over Vivian’s stomach, let her fingers trail down into the dark hair below. Vivian bit her lower lip at the girl’s touch. “ Allah’s blessings on you, missus.” With those words, she gave a small bow and ducked out the door.
    Vivian tugged a nightgown over her head and lay back on the bed. A soft, raspy meow at the window made her sit up. The scruffy grey cat shuffled in, sidling around, glaring at her as