But when Ali parted her legs with his knee, she stiffened.

He stopped, again more amused than angry. “Are you afraid of me, Amira?”

“No,” she protested, though she certainly was afraid of disappointing him. “Then perhaps you simply don’t wish to do what you’ve been told you must do—is that it?”

Amira lowered her eyes. How could she wish or not wish for something she had never experienced?

“If you’re reluctant, there’s no need to go on.”

“But that’s impossible,” she blurted out. “What about …” she trailed off, too embarrassed to proceed.

“Ah, yes.” Ali smiled. “The requisite show of blood to prove your virtue. Well, my dear, I have no need of such proof. But if you feel there must be some display, I’m ready to shed my blood in place of yours.” From the night- stand drawer, he pulled out a jeweled stiletto, rolled up his pajama sleeve, and extended his arm. “Just say the word.”

“No! No, I don’t want you to … I mean, there’s no need.”

Ali put the knife down. “Well, then, perhaps you require more champagne.” “Yes, please.” She stole a glance at her husband as he got up to refill her glass. Above the silk pajama bottoms, his body was well muscled and smooth.

Turning quickly, he saw her looking. “Do I pass muster, dear Wife?” She blushed furiously. “I didn’t … I mean I wasn’t …”

“Of course, you were,” he teased. “There’s no need to be so demure—as long as those glances are reserved for me.”

She took the glass he offered and drained it quickly.

“Slowly, slowly, Amira. Such pleasures are meant to be savored.”

She giggled. Such a lovely feeling, this light-headedness, the cocoon of Ali’s bed. He opened his arms and kissed her slowly, deeply.

“That’s more like it,” he said. “This isn’t an execution, you know.” Totally relaxed, she fell back on the bed. He began stroking her again, outlining the curve of her breasts, the swell of her belly. When he reached her thighs, she parted them readily, no longer apprehensive. As his fingers probed her, first gently, then insistently, she felt a liquid heat building inside her.

“Lovely,” he murmured, his dark eyes glistening. As her body began to shudder, he straddled her legs quickly and entered her. When she cried out, he stopped for a moment, then began to move inside and against her. The pain gave way to a rush of new sensations, rising and swelling—and when she cried out again, it was from joy and the thrill of discovery.

She did not notice—nor could she have known—that her husband did not reach a climax. She fell asleep peaceful and content, thinking that if this was marriage, everything else was pale and insipid by comparison.

13. Honeymoon

Honeymoon