Free The Golden Barbarian by Iris Johansen Page A

her body and murmured a few words of need and desire. Why did she feel this sense of bondage?
    “Now.”
    She scrambled under the cover and moved to the far side of the bed.
    The next moment she felt the mattress give under Galen’s weight.
    He lay beside her, not touching her, every muscle hardened with tension.
    She lay beside him, her heart pounding, the odd throbbing in her groin.
    “I don’t understand what this is all about,” she said haltingly. “Why?”
    His voice was thick, his breathing harsh in the darkness. “I’ll have you the way I want you or not at all.”
    “It’s only for the babe. What difference does it make?”
    “A great difference.” He was silent for a long moment. “We are two civilized people. I will not play stallion to your mare.” He was silent, and when he spoke again, his tone was fierce, desperate. “Because, by God, I am
not
a barbarian.”

Chapter 3
    Galen was gone when Tess awoke the next morning, and she experienced a rush of relief mixed with disappointment. His presence was exciting; he intrigued her mind while inspiring a curious vitality to possess her body. She wasn’t sure she was ready yet to try to understand his effect on her. Last night had been a most unsettling experience. What an unusual and unpredictable man Galen Ben Raschid was proving to be.
    She dressed hurriedly in her old dark brown riding habit that she had refused to throw away despite Pauline’s pleas, left the chamber, and started downstairs. She had reached the landing when she encountered a young man wearing aburgundy-and-cream striped robe and flowing white trousers tucked into brown suede boots. His face seemed familiar.
    “I was just going to your chamber,
Majira.”
He bowed politely. “The
majiron
wishes to depart within the hour. Is it convenient for me to pack your valises now?”
    “There’s not much to pack. I saw no sense in having my cases unpacked for such a short stay.” She frowned thoughtfully. “You’re Said, aren’t you?”
    He bowed again. “Said Abdul,
Majira.”
    “I didn’t recognize you at first.” Her eyes twinkled. “You’re wearing clothing.”
    He blinked, appearing slightly taken aback, “May I pack for you,
Majira?”
    Good Lord, he was as stiff and sober as the Mother Superior. “By all means,” she said solemnly. “Where is the sheikh?”
    “In the stable. Shall I tell him you wish to see him?”
    “No, you go about your business.” She started down the steps again. “I’ll find him.”
    “Unescorted?” He looked slightly shocked. “There are men in the stable,
Majira.”
    She glanced impatiently over her shoulder. “What difference does that make?”
    “It is not fitting. You are the
majira
. It would be unwise for you to—”
    “I’ll escort her, Said.” Sacha was standing at the bottom of the staircase. “Get to the packing.”
    Said sighed in apparent relief. “As you wish, my lord.”
    Tess shook her head as she watched him move quickly away. “He has no humor.”
    “Said’s a good man,” Sacha said. “But he does have a highly developed sense of protocol. It’s a different world in Sedikhan.”
    “So I’m beginning to discover.” She started down the last few steps. “What’s a
majira?”
    He grinned. “That’s you. Wife of the
majiron
. The Tamrovian equivalent would be ‘Your Majesty.’ ”
    “And Galen is the
majiron?”
    He nodded. “It’s one of his titles.” His smile disappeared as his gaze searched her face. “Are you … well?”
    She flushed and avoided his stare. “Probably better than you. You were definitely in your cups last night.” She strode past him toward the door. “I’m going to see Selik.”
    “Not your husband?”
    She glanced mischievously over her shoulder. “My husband appeared sound in wind and limb when I last saw him. Selik was not.”
    “Selik is much better.”
    Tess swung around to see Galen standing in the doorway. He gazed at her without expression, but his lips