Master of Pleasure Read Online Free PDF

Bissette. Malcolm couldn’t focus long enough to decipher what was said. He slumped onto his hands and knees, the grass cushioning his fall. His trembling fingers dug into the thick grass, blood smearing over its green as he savored its unexpected softness. He drew in shallow half-breaths, reveling in the lull from all the earlier pain.
    A quick movement rustled through the grass. Sensing someone stood before him, Malcolm edged into a kneeling position. Everything swayed. He squeezed his eyes to steady himself. It was so nice to feel numb. It was so nice to feel nothing after feeling so much.
    “Upon my life, you will never be beaten like that again,” assured a familiar voice.
    Malcolm slowly shut out the darkness he had let in and returned to being who he wanted to be: himself. He opened his eyes, willing each breath. Standing before him against the vast blue valley sky was Nasser dressed in flowing silk garbs of blue and gold. They flapped freely against the wind.
    He stared down at Malcolm with intense, dark eyes, his jet-black hair hanging around his young, vibrant face. “The luminaries refused to tell me where you had been taken.”
    Feeling his wounds oozing, Malcolm gasped between breaths. “I…I’m fine.”
    “You most certainly are not. Do not move.” Yelling something in Persian to his servants, Nasser tossed the bible he held, causing it to thud open. “If this is the God who is supposed to save me, I return my faith to Allah. We leave within the hour and head to Paris. My offer is not negotiable.”
    Surprise flitted through Malcolm as he squinted through stabbing breaths. “ Paris ?”
    Nasser removed his long flowing shawl, leaned in and gently draped it around Malcolm’s nakedness. “I am buying your freedom, Dalir ,” he said in a low voice. “Monsieur Bissette is willing to release you for fifty thousand.”
    Fifty thousand ? Malcolm choked. “I wouldn’t even be able to repay you. My father isn’t worth that much. He isn’t worth anything anymore. No. I cannot accept such grace. I cannot—”
    “I am not leaving you here another year knowing I was the reason for it.” Nasser hesitated. “I welcome you to travel with me to Persia and see a bit of the world at no expense to you. Allow me to show you what a brother should be.”
    Malcolm swallowed. “I happen to love my brother.”
    “’Tis obvious you do.” Nasser leaned in closer his lean face sharpening. “But the world does not need a martyr who disappears for one brother and one cause. It needs a hero who appears for every cause. While I admire your devotion to your brother, it is crippling you. Allow yourself to be more. What you did for me today can be replicated on a far greater scale. I have never seen anyone take on a blade with no fear like that. Do you know what you can do with a gift like that? My country is on the brink of war with Russia and needs true fighters. We need someone willing to swing a sword at those who only seek to make the world suffer. You can be that someone and help worthy people. But not if you feel your brother needs you more.”
    God was speaking to him through this young man. After too many years of carrying the burden of being responsible for an unruly, tempestuous brother incapable of being responsible for anything, God was finally offering him a greater cause. One worthy of his mind and heart. For although, yes, he stupidly gave into temptation and kissed Miss Silverthorn, thereby damning himself to a situation he wished he’d never been a part of, he did not deserve to continue to punish himself for the sins of his brother. If he returned to England, he would never be his own man. Even if his brother forgave him, he would be nothing more than what his twin had always wanted him to be: his shadow, but even darker and more twisted. “I’m tired of Wiltshire and London. I want to be my own man. I want my own life. Separate from my brother.”
    “I can give you that.” Nasser’s voice