Once a Princess Read Online Free PDF Page A

the door,” Stefan interrupted before Vasili’s changeable temper took a turn for the worse. Those two had been known to go at each other with murderous intent before they realized what they were doing and fell over laughing about it. “He cannot believe that we are here merely to swill this horse piss they call beer and watch an ignorant foreigner make a ridiculous fool of herself up on that stage.”
    â€œPut that way, I would have doubts myself,” Vasili said, his light brown eyes laughing as he turned to Lazar. “You see what your bitching has brought us? You know how vicious Stefan can be when he is annoyed with us.”
    â€œJesus, Vasili,” Lazar groaned exaggeratedly as he slumped down in his new chair. “Why don’t you just ask him to cut us to ribbons?”
    Vasili turned back to Stefan, wide-eyed with innocence. “Was I prodding you, my friend?”
    â€œYou were trying,” Stefan replied inscrutably. “But then the braying of an ass has never bothered me.”
    â€œI see what you mean, Lazar.” Vasili winced. “Cut to the bone.”
    â€œIf you both don’t shut up, you will miss the show entirely.”
    Vasili glanced at the stage and sat forward, the teasing forgotten. The crowd erupted into applause at the same time, which brought Lazar up, alert and then dumbfounded as he too stared at the stage. Stefan, however, scowled as the dance progressed. Whatever else he had expected, he had not thought he would want the wench for himself.

Chapter 4
    She was exquisitely delicate and fine-boned, this angel of Babylon. Stefan, along with every other man in the room, was entranced, unable to take his eyes from her. Here was a dance meant to inflame the senses, yet the girl’s movements were so sensually graceful, she lent it a kind of innocence. Perhaps that was for her own protection, performing before so many men as she was. It was too late to work on Stefan, however. She might be the kind of female who could drive a man crazy with warring instincts of lust and protectiveness, but right now he felt only lust.
    He had wondered what kind of costume she would use—certainly not the revealing transparency of the true harem dancer, who was after all a concubine or a slave, and danced to entice a master into noticing her among so many other slaves. This was America, where women thoroughly covered all limbs; at least good women did. But this one was a whore, dancing for an all-male audience, so she would be allowedto bare her arms at least, and a portion of her legs, and, because of the dance, a good portion of her belly. Such was not the case.
    The material of her harem trousers started just below the navel, was snug across the hips and abdomen, but baggy down the legs, where they gathered tight at her ankles. The lavender material was not at all transparent, but was so thin that with certain movements it molded itself to her legs. Her top, of the same thin material, was short, though not as short as the audience would have liked, hanging down to the waistband of the trousers. The sleeves were long and full, gathered at the wrists. The top fit snugly across her firm breasts but thereafter fell loosely, so that it swayed with her body. Dotted about this costume were small silver sequins that flashed as they caught the candlelight, as well as a wide band of bangles about her hips, wrists, and ankles that clinked rhythmically with her movements, proving she was no amateur to this dance. But then that had been very obvious from the moment she glided onto the stage.
    The same lavender material was used for the long veil that covered her hair to her waist, but her hair was a bit longer than the veil, and unbound, so long locks of it, as black as ebony, fell over her narrow shoulders or were flipped back as she dipped and turned. A shorter veil concealed her features, all but her eyes, which at first seemed slanted. Watching her so intently, Stefan soon