Free The Pleasure of Your Kiss by Teresa Medeiros Page B

intention of kissing Clarinda’s hand, or perhaps even her lips, Ash caught the back of his robes and yanked him back. It was just as well because something that sounded suspiciously like a growl had begun to emanate from deep in Farouk’s chest.
    “You’ll have to forgive my friend,” Ash said, his teeth clenched in a conciliatory smile as his companion shot him a sulky look. “He learned most of his English by repeated readings of The Bawdy Adventures of Buxom Bess .”
    “How very generous of you to loan him your copy!” Clarinda said sweetly.
    Farouk’s growl subsided. “Although I can never hope to repay the debt I owe them, Burke the Younger and Mr. D’Arcangelo will be enjoying my hospitality for as long as they desire. I’ve already promised to tempt them with every manner of delicacy at my disposal tonight as we sup together.”
    This time there was no imagining the gaze Ash flicked her way. It danced over Clarinda’s skin like living flame.
    “You’re very fortunate the captain is willing to settle for your hospitality as reward for his noble deeds,” she said to hide the effect that look had on her. “I’ve heard he prefers to be paid in kisses.”
    “At the moment I’d settle for a hot bath to wash away the desert grit,” Ash said.
    “I’m sure that can be arranged,” Clarinda said, then wished she hadn’t as an image of Ash sinking into a steaming tub while surrounded by a bevy of giggling slave girls popped into her head.
    “Followed by a long afternoon nap before supper?” Luca suggested hopefully, his leer replaced by a yawn.
    Clarinda was beginning to believe disaster just might be averted—or at least delayed—when Poppy came rushing into the courtyard, a colorful swirl of veils billowing behind her. Having never quite mastered the voluminous garments, she always had the air of someone caught in a sudden windstorm.
    She was so intent on not tripping over her skirts that she was paying no mind whatsoever to what was directly in front of her. “Oh, Clarinda, one of the women just told me some dastardly villains had attacked the sultan! Who would dare to do such a thing? Don’t they know that he’s the strongest, the most powerful, the most noble, the most courageous—”
    Her breathless recitation of the sultan’s apparently endless list of glowing attributes came to an abrupt end when she ran full tilt into the man. Farouk steadied her with one arm, then gave her a gentle push, placing a safe distance between them.
    “Oh, there you are!” she exclaimed, blinking up at him. Her exotic dress was at direct odds with the wire-rimmed spectacles perched on the tip of her nose and the rosy blush tinting the ripe apples of her cheeks. “I’m so very happy to see you! I mean … I’m so very happy to see that you’re unharmed,” she amended, her blush deepening as she spread her skirts and bobbed him an awkward curtsy. “When I overheard two of the eunuchs discussing the attack, I feared the worst, m-m-my lord … and master,” she added hopefully, batting her eyelashes at him.
    Clarinda winced. If Poppy was hoping to hide her infatuation with the handsome sultan, she was doing a miserable job of it.
    Farouk rolled his eyes, making no attempt to disguise his long-suffering sigh. His effortless charm always seemed to desert him whenever Poppy was near. “As I have told you many times before, Miss Montmorency, I am Your Majesty, not your master. It seems we have another escapee from my harem, gentlemen,” he informed Ash and Luca. “Please allow me to introduce Miss Montmorency. She is Miss Cardew’s … companion.”
    “And my dearest friend,” Clarinda added loyally as Poppy bobbed another curtsy, this time in the direction of the new arrivals.
    Poppy froze in midbob as she spotted Ash, her eyes growing even more enormous behind the thick lenses of her spectacles. “Oh! Oh my! I know who you are! You’re Ashton Burke, the legendary adventurer! Why, you look exactly