“In the top drawer of my bedside table, there’s a small box. It contains everything we need to make our night pleasurable. If you have to, leave everything else behind but bring that box.”She snorted as if in derision—but it was a weak snort. She walked toward the steps again.“Amy.”She turned back to him. “What?”“Did you notice I didn’t ask for a nightshirt?”She glanced at his lit in her hand and wondered why he told her that.Then she knew why.He had just told her he slept nude.Every night in the cellar right beneath her bedchamber, his naked body remained at the ready to welcome her. Now that she knew it, she could never escape the image . . . or the temptation.”

“Jermyn’s breath stilled. He watched intently. So far, she had followed his instructions. Now he waited to see if she would follow his last, insistent direction.In the top drawer of my bedside table, there’s a small box. It contains everything we need to make our night pleasurable . . . leave everything else behind but bring that box.He bent his will on her.Amy, get the wooden box. Get it. If thoughts had power, then his directive would surely be followed.She gathered the clothes, wrapped them in a piece of brown paper and tied them like a package with a string. She thrust the package into a large cloth bag that hung by her belt and started toward the sitting room.In frustration, Jermyn wanted to stick his fist through the wall.Why couldn’t the girl just once do as she was told?At the doorway, she hesitated.Jermyn’s heart lifted. Do it, he mentally urged. Get it. She glanced toward the bedside table, then away. Jermyn could almost see the tug-of-war between her good sense and her yearning.Had he baited the trap with strong enough desire? Had he played the meek, willing male with enough sincerity? With a soft “blast!” she hurried to the bedside table. Opening the drawer, she pulled out the wooden box and stared at it as if it were a striking snake.With a glance around her, she placed it on the table and raised the lid. She lifted the small, gilt-and-blue bottle. Pulling the stopper, she sniffed.Jermyn preferred a combination of bayberry and spice, and he held his breath as he scrutinized her face, waiting for her reaction. If she didn’t savor the scent, he had no doubt she would put it back.But for a mere second, she closed her eyes. Pleasure placed a faint smile on her lips.She liked it.And he hoped she associated the scent with him, with the day she kidnapped him. That would be sweet justice indeed.Briskly she stoppered the bottle, replaced it in the box and slid the box in her pocket.Together the two men watched as she left the bedroom. Jermyn heard a click as the outer door closed. Guardedly he walked out, surveying the sitting room. Empty.Turning to the bewildered Biggers, Jermyn said, “Quickly, man. I need that bath!”

“If there was a true moment that Tiger Lily fell so in love with Peter she could never turn back, it was that night, when he shivered and walked and told her he was warm, and told her he loved her so much. She was fierce, to be sure, but she had a girl's heart, after all. As she walked home that night, she was shaking from the largeness of it.”

“She had no need to ask why he had come. She knew as certainly as if he had told her that he was here to be where she was.”

“Hassan still had not come back when night fell and moonlight bathed the clouds. Sanaubar cried that coming back had been a mistake, maybe even a worse one than leaving. But I made her stay. Hassan would return, I knew. He came back the next morning, looking tired and weary, like he had not slept all night. He took Sanaubar's hand in both of his and told her she could cry if she wanted to but she needn't, she was home now, he said, home with her family. He touched the scars on her face, ran his hand through her hair...Sometimes, I would look out the window into the yard and watch Hassan and his mother kneeling together, picking tomatoes or trimming a rosebush, talking. They were catching up on all the lost years, I suppose. As far as I know he never asked where she had been or why she left and she never told. I guess some stories do not need telling. ”

“Now that she decided she knew exactly what she wanted –him- she couldn’t wait to break the news. And if he didn’t want her, she could live with that – what she wouldn’t be able to live with was if she never told him.”