In the adjacent, open-concept chamber, more beds of cushions and pillows were arranged around the room, some steeped in shadows, others strategically placed in front of tall, ornately framed mirrors. Erotic statuary and tables holding bottles of perfumed oils and incense jars completed the pleasure den.
Jehan frowned, shaking his head. The handfast agreement may forbid a male from forcing himself on the Breedmate sent with him to this place, but every room in the villa was obviously designed with sex and seduction in mind.
And try as he might to resist imagining Seraphina reclined on those cushions or stepping naked out of the steam-clouded baths, his mind refused to obey.
Eight nights.
He would be lucky to make it through this first one without losing his mind or tearing down the bedroom door she was currently hiding behind on the other side of the villa.
He needed fresh air. What he really needed was a hundred-foot wall between him and his unwanted roommate. A length of sturdy chain wouldn’t hurt either.
Jehan walked back out to the main living area and headed for the French doors leading out to an oasis patio in back. As he crossed the room, he heard Seraphina hiss a curse from inside the bedroom.
He paused, listened. Told himself to keep walking in the opposite direction.
She swore again and he detoured for the passage leading to the bedroom.
“Are you all right in there?”
“Yes. Everything’s fine.” Her reply was quick, dismissively so.
He stood outside the closed door and heard her grumble in frustration. “I’m coming in.”
“No. Wait—”
She stood in the center of the big room, tangled in the complicated yards of red silk that comprised her dress from the celebration. When he chuckled, she glowered. “It’s not funny, you arrogant ass.”
“Really?” He didn’t even try to curb his grin. “Looks pretty funny from where I’m standing.”
She huffed, narrowing a glare on him. “If you’re going to stand there laughing at me, you might as well help.”
He held up his hands. “No touching, remember? How can I help without breaking that part of our deal?” Of course, they’d also said no kissing, but that rule was already shot all to hell, even before they’d arrived tonight. “Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll consider bending the rules.”
Her shoulders sagged in defeat, but the baring of her straight, white teeth hardly looked submissive. “Jehan, will you please help me?”
He didn’t want to admit how enticing his name sounded on her pretty lips. Especially when it involved asking him to assist in undressing her. His blood agreed, licking through his veins in eager anticipation as he stalked across the bedroom to where she stood.
She raised her right hand and gathered her long cascade of bead-strewn, soft brown curls off her neck as she presented her back to him. “There must be a dozen tiny knots holding this dress together. And I can’t figure out where the ends of the long wrappings begin either.”
Jehan stood behind her for a long moment, just looking. Just drinking in the sight of her graceful nape and elegant spine. She was blessed with hourglass curves and long, lean legs. The ceremonial dress hugged every inch of her in all the right places. Including the rounded swells of her beautiful ass.
How was it that his mouth could water, yet feel desert dry at the same time?
His gums prickled as his fangs swelled against his tongue. Another part of him was swelling too, pressing in carnal demand against the loose white linen of his pants. Heat rose in his blood and in his vision, swamping his irises with amber fire.
He reached out and began to loosen the first of the intricate knots.
There were eight of them, not a dozen. Each one was a test of his dexterity as well as his self-control. One by one, the fastenings fell away, baring Seraphina’s naked back to his fevered gaze, inch by torturous inch.
Somewhere along the way, his lungs had stopped working. Desire raked him, sharp talons stealing his breath as he freed the last of the tiny knots and the scarlet silk slackened in his fingers.
Seraphina didn’t seem to be breathing either. She stood unmoving, her mane of long hair still held aloft in her hand. Warmth poured off her skin, and he knew she had to feel his heat reaching out to her too.
Her heartbeat ticked frantically in the side of her neck, drawing his blazing eyes. The urge to stroke that tender pulse point—to touch and taste every enticing inch of her—nearly overwhelmed him.
Clamping his molars together, he fought to keep a grip on those urges. When he finally found his voice, it came out in a gravelly rasp. “There you go. All finished.”
Seraphina paused, letting her hair fall. She turned a glance over her shoulder at him. “The wrappings too?”
Shit. He scowled and began a quick search for one of the ends of the lengths of silk. He tugged it loose and began to unwind it from around her bodice and waist. The damn thing was too long to pull free.
He swore and shook his head. “You’ll have to turn with it.”
“Like this?” She obeyed, pivoting in front of him. He nodded, then pulled the silk taut, letting the tail of it collect on the floor as she slowly spun before him. Around and around and around, her springy brown curls dancing as she turned, the beads threaded through the strands twinkling under the soft lights of the bedroom.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
In some primitive part of his brain, he was the conquering desert warlord and she was his mesmerizing captive. His irresistible, stolen prize. He watched her spin, watched the ribbon of scarlet silk unwind, revealing more and more of the beautiful woman wrapped inside.