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Chapter Sixteen

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Thieves in the Night

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Yasmin and the others took a flying carpet from the Baykal warehouse to their villa. Though her father must have been tired, he handled the pilot rod. Yasmin expected Joseph to make excuses and head off separately. He didn’t, and she was glad, though she warned herself not to read too much into it. His gentlemanly nature might have made him feel obliged to see her home safely.

As they landed, sunshine lit the family garden. Yasmin realized she wasn’t sure what time or even what day it was.

“You made it!” her mother cried, rushing onto the terrace to greet them.

She hugged Balu and kissed his cheeks, and then it was Yasmin’s turn.

“Sweetie,” she said, embracing her tightly. “Thank the Goddess. My little Yami is home again in one piece. Oh, but how thin and pale you look! Didn’t that terrible man feed you?”

Yasmin assumed the ‘terrible man’ was Stefan Dimitriou.

Overcome with emotion, her mother pushed back to wipe her own tear-streaked cheeks. Joseph hung a step behind her father, giving them space for their reunion. Vinca glanced at him with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“He looks worse than you,” she confided—not quite quietly enough.

Joseph had the good manners to pretend he hadn’t heard.

“Missus Baykal,” he said, offering her a respectful bow. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. Your daughter is a fine woman.”

“Well,” her mother said, taken aback by the solemnity with which he delivered the compliment. “We’ve always thought so. And we’re extremely grateful to you for helping her escape that awful man’s clutches.”

“Yasmin helped me as much as I helped her.”

This disconcerted her mother too.

“That is . . . gracious of you to say. Do come in. I’m planning a special evening meal.”

It was Joseph’s turn to look startled. He scratched his jaw awkwardly. “You’re kind to invite me, but I really ought to return to the capital. People at the palace will be waiting on my report.”

“No, they won’t,” Balu said.

Joseph stared at him.

“The guardians gave me strict instructions. You and Yasmin aren’t to go anywhere. Arcadius and Cade want Dimitriou to believe he succeeded in killing you. The sultan’s putting together an operation to arrest him. Knowing you’re alive and that you’ve delivered evidence could drive him and his co-conspirators underground.”

“It’s true,” Vinca said. “Just in case, we’ve sent the servants on vacation.”

“Does that mean you’re making dinner?” Balu asked.

Yasmin laughed at his hopeful tone. Joseph looked at her questioningly.

“My mother’s an excellent cook,” she explained.

“I am,” her mother agreed. “And your father hasn’t spoiled me so badly that I’ve forgotten my old talents.”

Convinced everything was settled, Vinca turned to lead them into the house. Aydin fell in beside her, his arm slinging fondly around his wife’s slim shoulders.

“Do you want a hand in the kitchen?” Yasmin asked, aware that a meal for five—especially the sort of meals her mother liked to make—wouldn’t be a small matter.

“No, no,” her mother demurred. “You need to recharge. Your father will serve as my aide de camp.”

Her father bumped her hip playfully with his. “I didn’t exert energy today?”

“Please. You took your man-toy out for a ride. How is that difficult?”

Yasmin hadn’t seen her parents joke like this in a while. She knew they loved each other, but this was different.

They’re like sweethearts today, she mused.

“Joseph,” her mother said over her shoulder. “I’ve put you in the room next to Balu’s in the men’s wing. If you like, you can wash up and lie down there.”

Yasmin laughed at Joseph’s expression. Clearly, he wasn’t accustomed to having his every move organized. Deciding he wouldn’t mind, she nudged his shoulder companionably.

“There’s no point fighting her. Getting her way is my mother’s special gift.”

“I’m not— Your mother is being generous. I simply hoped I might have a room near you.” He’d lowered his voice for her ears only. The fact that he wanted to stay close by did wonders for her ego.

“Not a chance in hell,” she responded cheerfully.

~

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She was less cheerful when she realized she’d be stuck by herself till dinner. Her batteries were drained, but resting up alone was boring. Evidently, even former concubines grew accustomed to having things to do.

Deciding to treat recharging like a job, she changed into sunning clothes. Modest enough to suit her mother, the robes nonetheless allowed her to lie out by the pool and soak up healing radiance.

Despite an intent to read, her magazine-loaded scroll didn’t hold her attention. Balu’s room overlooked the walled garden area. His and Joseph’s voices drifted out the window, which—unlike the women’s wing—was below head height. The men were ‘hanging out’ as humans said, having a friendly argument over what they’d appreciated most in New York.

“Times Square,” her brother said. “Talking to people there was the best.”

“The snow in Central Park was pretty, though I never could like the cold.”

“Club music,” her brother countered. “And watching humans dance.”

“I preferred the opera.”

“The opera! Joseph, that’s for old men.”

“I admired the museums too. What human artists do with humble materials is as good as sorcery.”

Her brother laughed full out. Yasmin told herself she didn’t begrudge him. Balu was enjoying teasing his idol, and Joseph seemed to relish the exchange too. He fit her family without much effort. The realization stirred uneasiness, the same as she’d felt over him accompanying her home.

She couldn’t help the thought that slipped into her mind: Really, it would be nice if she and Joseph were destined for each other.

~

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Dinner gave her opportunities for similar musings. Her mother had outdone herself with the meal. Joseph’s admiration for her talent was as unfeigned as his compliments were polished.

“Those are good manners,” her mother said, wagging her finger at Balu. “If you want to get on in life, you’ll learn from his example.”

“My manners are fine,” Balu objected laughingly. “I just don’t always waste them on family.”

“They are fine,” Yasmin agreed. “I’ve seen him dust them off at work.”

Joseph laughed, pleasing her with his appreciation of her humor.

Work,” her mother repeated darkly. “Trouble is what your detecting business leads to.” She passed a dish to her new favorite. “I’m sure you agree after this weekend.”

“Perhaps,” he said diplomatically. “Then again, husband-hunting hasn’t turned out so well for Lady Toraman.”

“Good one!” Balu crowed.

Joseph’s mouth quirked but he controlled it. “Forgive me, Missus Baykal. You’re so gracious. I should have kept my opinion to myself.”

“I’m sure you’re entitled to it,” her mother replied stiffly. “Though if you ever do take a wife, you may find you’d rather yours stay home.”

Joseph’s amusement disappeared in a blink, replaced by nearly blank-faced surprise. Her mother’s tone implied a man like him was unlikely to marry. Yasmin supposed eunuchs didn’t often. Even so, the way Vinca put it had been insulting. Given her previous warmth, the sudden change was all the more startling.

“Mom,” Balu scolded quietly. “Joseph is a good man . . . and our guest.”

“Of course,” her mother said, rising from her cushion. “Forgive me. I’ll see to brewing the coffee now.”

Her ‘forgive me’ wasn’t quite an apology to Joseph. Yasmin looked at him. Though he wasn’t blushing, she suspected this required will. He met her gaze and shook his head slightly. She understood the message. Even now, he didn’t want her to correct her mother’s assumption. His role as the sultan’s supposedly unbeatable magician was too important to undercut—certainly too important to care about a prick to his pride.

Respect made her smile at him.

“I hadn’t planned to,” she said.

“Hadn’t planned to what?” Balu asked.

“Have coffee,” she said nonsensically. “But maybe I’ll help with tea.”

Her father squeezed her hand as she passed. “She’s sorry she hurt his feelings,” he murmured. “She just can’t make herself say the words.”

Yasmin knew that too. She smiled at her father and continued to the kitchen.

~

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Predictably, considering the awkwardness that preceded it, their post-dinner tea and coffee lasted the minimum time that counted as polite. Yasmin tried to speak to Joseph after the cups were cleared but wasn’t quick enough. Her father invited him for brandy and a hookah in his study.

Yasmin opened her mouth to say she’d join them.

“Just boring business talk,” Aydin said, heading that off too. “Plus, you know how you are about the smell of tobacco.”

She’d have put up with it this once. No way was her father planning a ‘boring’ conversation. The pair was going to discuss magic—a topic she could have contributed to!

“Not tonight,” he said when she scowled at him.

Joseph shrugged and looked apologetic. She concluded no help was coming from that quarter.

“Well, I can’t come,” her brother volunteered with annoying good spirits. “I have plans. I’m flying out to meet friends. —No gossiping,” he promised before their father could warn him.

Even if she weren’t currently playing dead, Yasmin couldn’t follow his example. Nice females weren’t supposed to smoke out at night, a rule her mother always insisted she follow.

She hadn’t finished seething over that as she lay, arms folded and jaw set, in her bed later. If anyone had business to discuss with Joseph, it was her!

Actually, her father had interrupted her last conversation with Joseph too. They’d been arguing over her supposedly flattering him in bed when the shipping container smashed the train. Admittedly, her father hadn’t planned that. Also admittedly, he wouldn’t have minded curtailing that line of talk. While not as hidebound as his wife, he wouldn’t relish thinking of his daughter as a sexual free agent.

Was it any wonder Yasmin couldn’t wait to return to her own apartment, where she could live like a real adult?

Overcome with annoyance, she sat up, tugged her hair, and growled.

The action calmed her. Home or not, she didn’t absolutely have to follow her parents’ rules. She could visit Joseph, the same as he’d visited her at Dimitriou’s.

Thanks to her afternoon resting up, she blurred into vapor form easily. Even better, the servants being on ‘vacation,’ her chance of being caught in the villa’s male wing was low. She solidified cautiously outside the guest room door.

Joseph opened it before she tapped.

“Oh,” he said. “Come in. I was checking if the coast was clear before I vaped to you.”

She went in, pleased that he’d had the same idea.

The guest room was pleasantly masculine, with elegant ceiling coving and rich navy upholstery. Though she hadn’t been here before, she only glanced at her surroundings. Joseph’s face drew her attention magnetically. She felt as if she hadn’t seen him in days and needed to remind herself of his charms. There was his lean jawline, here his smooth toasty skin and fine eyebrows. His gold eyes were tired but stunning, his lashes no less dark and thick than before. He was staring back at her the same way. Whatever he saw curved his perfectly incised mouth upward.

“Why am I so relieved to be alone with you?” he wondered. “We were just stuck together on that damned train.”

“Family life can feel claustrophobic if you’re not used to it.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” he said.

His answer could have been more informative. “Did you want to speak to me?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I can think straight until I do this.”

He took her face between his hands and kissed her, deep and gentle and intimate. Instantly enchanted, Yasmin’s toes curled inside her slippers. Her hands drifted to his waist, where she ordered them not to grip tighter than his were. Despite the vow, by the time he pulled back, her fingers had dug in.

He must not have minded. His gorgeous eyes glowed with arousal. They flared brighter when Yasmin licked the taste of him from her lips.

“No,” he said with a hint of teasing. “That didn’t help at all.”

It hadn’t helped her either.

“Maybe we need to do more than kiss.”

Her voice was husky. He stroked her cheek, tilted his head, and delved into her mouth.

This time, his carnal intent was clear. Her reasons for holding back dissolved. She wrapped him in her arms, delighting when his body reacted. His arms went around her too, pulling her fully against him.

“I need you,” he said. “I’m so hard I hurt.”

“Take me,” she urged, and magicked his clothes away.

Hers flew off a moment later.

He groaned her name, his palm dragging down her spine and over her bare bottom. She could tell he liked touching her this way. His skin was sweating already, his cock pulsing forcefully where their combined embrace trapped it between them. Though she enjoyed these sensations, she was ready for more. She wriggled in his hold until her heels found the floor again.

“Come on,” she said, tugging him by the wrist.

She intended to lead him to the bed.

“Next time,” he panted. “I want to take you in a new way against the wall.”

He didn’t hesitate to turn her by the shoulders, guiding her forward until her palms pressed the smooth plaster. Her heart jumped into a gallop.

She liked when he got masterful.

“Here,” he said, moving her hands higher. “This is a good spot to brace.”

“You’ve been planning this.”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed throatily. “Planning, imagining, and just plain sexually obsessing.”

He crowded into her as he spoke, his huge erection rubbing her up and down. He caressed himself with her and her with him, seeming reluctant to miss a single curve of her bottom cheeks. She groaned to feel him grow hotter, thicker, harder with every pass. His thighs were against her, their muscles another form of masculine assertion pressing her. With one hand to squeeze and massage her breasts, he caught her pelvis in the other’s enclosing grip.

“Are you ready?” he asked even as her cream overflowed his fingers. “Can I thrust inside you now?”

He rubbed her clit with two fingers, pushing down the swelling and up again. Yasmin gasped at the sharp pleasure. The bone beneath intensified the pressure he could exert.

Right that second, the pressure was perfect.

“You make it hard for me to answer when you do that.”

He nipped her earlobe and rasped out a hot whisper. “You make me hard as granite when you go wet.”

He shifted angles, the crown of his cock suddenly strafing her pussy lips. She mewled at the satiny skin teasing over her.

“Yes,” he breathed as she arched. “Push your ass back at me.”

His foot slid between hers to coax her leg outward. She moved her second leg on her own. His fingers shifted, searching out the place they both wanted his cock to go. A second later, it was there, the tip round and sleek as it glided in. Her hands curled tensely on the wall.

She couldn’t think of a single thing that felt as good as him slowly filling her.

“God,” he gasped as he reached her end.

She moaned his name, a broken sound of longing. He echoed it as he drew back and surged in again. His protracted motion was agony: delicious but tormenting. He kept it up, wave after wave, thrust after thrust, until they both shuddered.

“It’s hard to go this slow,” he confessed.

“Don’t go slow anymore. I want to be overwhelmed.”

He mouthed her shoulder. “You overwhelm me,” he whispered.

She braced as he pulled back again. She suspected she was going to get his full effort. She wasn’t wrong. As if he’d reached into her mind, he gave her everything she wanted—speed and strength, heat and size, panting breaths and groans of uncontrolled shared delight. His fingers found just the right spots to pinch and rub. Sensations pummeled her inside and out. She came like a lever flipping, instantly jumping onto an orgasmic track.

He gasped, gunshot-style, as her pussy clamped around him. He must have been close. His pace intensified, the sound of his abdomen smacking skin impossibly exciting. She spiked a second time, and heat shot into her lengthily.

To her shock, he pulled out all the way after.

“Bed,” he explained, lifting her even as she turned to object.

Bed seemed like a wonderful idea. “Yes,” she agreed, arms twining behind his neck.

He laid her down and came into her in almost the same motion.

She moaned with pleasure. As he thrust, carefully at first and then picking up speed and force, her hands took their turn roaming him. Oh, she loved his shoulders, and his back, and his spine, and the tight muscles of his rear. His ribs and diaphragm were wonders, the way they moved so vigorously for his breaths. He gasped when she pinched his nipples, as if she’d hurt him a little bit. 

“Too much?”

He shook his head, drops of perspiration flinging from him with the motion. “Do it again.”

She was at the lower end of the mattress, her legs bent up to match his thrusts. Neither of them was doing this very smoothly. Power was what mattered. Power and friction and driving him into her as deeply as possible. The flush that stained his cheeks was blotchy, the sweat that beaded them glittering. She had no doubt she looked just as disheveled.

“When you go, I’ll do it,” she said.

He growled, deep and menacing in his throat. Suddenly, his hips churned into her even faster. His chest dropped closer. She couldn’t see his face anymore. His body felt like it was everywhere, as if every part of her were surrounded and affected by his desire. Her blood roared in her ears. The rush should have deafened her, but she seemed to hear two heartbeats.

Both were thudding like engines.

They were almost there. Joseph gripped her hip and slung in. Her insides jolted, and she couldn’t believe how good it felt. His shaft swelled, preparing to release again.

Yasmin remembered her promise.

She found his nipples and twisted hard. All the muscles in his body tightened, his breath exploding as his excitement hit an even higher crest. He jerked up, jamming in from his pelvis. The sight and feel of his abandonment flipped another switch for her. Ecstasy wrenched outward from her sex. She came so hard she had to gulp for air.

Minutes passed before she could move beyond breathing.

“Mm,” Joseph said sleepily.

He was still on her, in her, his forehead resting on the covers next to her.

“Need air,” she said.

He rolled so that she was on top of him. That was fine. She liked staying connected the way they were. He patted her bottom as if testing the gesture out.

“I thought that might be pleasurable,” he said. “The wall thing, that is. I didn’t realize we’d want to do the bed thing too.”

Yasmin had just enough strength to laugh. “I hope this means you’ve given up your belief that I’ve been faking my enjoyment to flatter you.”

“Your responses did strike me as genuine.”

She pushed up on her forearms to smile at him.

“You seem sophisticated,” he said defensively. “And you’re very alluring. Whatever you lack in practical experience, you were a concubine. I couldn’t help thinking you had expectations I might not live up to.”

“You lived up to them. In any case, I wasn’t dwelling on who I used to be. Tonight I was just a woman who wanted a man she cares about.”

She didn’t mean to pressure him about his feelings, but perhaps it came out that way. Joseph’s face went quiet and serious.

“Yasmin, how can I put a name to my emotions when, until recently, I didn’t think I had a right to them? What did I have to offer any woman, especially one who belonged to a djinni I’d sworn allegiance to. —No, don’t squirm away. I want you to know I care. I want you to know you can count on me. I’m not going anywhere. Please give me time to get used to this.”

Yasmin felt like she’d known forever he was the man for her. Her throat was tight. If she answered, she knew she’d cry.

Joseph’s expression twisted with sympathy. “Please don’t look like that.”

She swallowed hard and controlled herself. “I can’t pretend not to feel what I do. No more than you can pretend to feel what you don’t.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t ask that of you. In truth, I’m in awe of your honesty.”

His words weren’t nothing. They simply weren’t the ones she wanted to hear from him.