Adora Read Online Free Page B

briefest moment she yielded to him, and all the things she and her classmates had discussed with regard to kissing flashed through her mind, and she realized that they knew nothing of the truth. This was sweetness beyond belief, ecstasy beyond her wildest imaginings, and honeyed fire poured through her loins, making her weak.
    Releasing her mouth, he held her gently to him Their eyes met for a moment in a strange understanding. Then, suddenly terrified by her response to him, Theadora tore herself free and fled down the neat gravel path. His mocking laughter followed her. She heard his voice. “Tomorrow, Adora.”
    Gaining the sanctuary first of her house, and then of her bedchamber, she collapsed on her bed, trembling violently, ignoring the peaches that spilled from her pockets and bumped across the floor.
    She had not known that a kiss could be so—she sought for the right word—so powerful! So intimate! That was certainly what it had been. Intimate! An invasion of her person. Andyet—a little smile played about her lips—and yet she had liked it.
    Murad had been correct in assuming that she had never been kissed. In fact, Theadora knew nothing of what happened between a man and a woman for she had spent all but four years of her young life behind convent walls. When she had been married Zoe had wisely refrained from discussing the duties of the marriage bed with a child years away from puberty. Consequently, the sultan’s youngest wife was a total innocent.
    Now she wondered about the handsome young man whose strong arms had saved her from serious injury. Tall and tanned, she knew he was as fair as she, for where his black hair had been newly cropped, his skin was quite light. His jet dark eyes had been caressingly, even boldly, warm; his smile, which had revealed straight white teeth, very impudent.
    Of course she would not see him again. It was simply unthinkable. Still, she wondered if he really would come tomorrow night. Would he actually be bold enough to climb the convent’s orchard wall again?
    There was only one way to find out. She must hide herself in the orchard before dark and watch. When he came—
if
he came—she would not, of course, reveal herself. She would remain hidden until he left. But at least her curiosity would be satisfied.
    She giggled, imagining his chagrin. He obviously thought himself quite irresistible if he expected a respectable girl to sneak out and meet him. He would soon learn differently.

Chapter Two
    Murad had been amused by his encounter with the girl, Theadora. He was a grown man, experienced in the amatory arts. Her sweetness, her unaffected innocence, enchanted him.
    Legally, she was his father’s third wife. But he felt there was virtually no chance that Sultan Orkhan would ever bring her into his palace, let alone his bed. The little princess was merely a political pawn. Murad felt no remorse over dallying with her. He was an honorable man and had no intention of seducing her.
    Murad Beg was the youngest of the sultan’s three sons. He had a full brother, Suleiman, and a half brother, Ibrahim. Ibrahim’s mother was the daughter of a Byzantine nobleman who was distantly related to Theadora. Her name was Anastatia, and she looked with haughty disdain upon Murad’s mother, who was the daughter of a Georgian hetman. Anastatia was the sultan’s first wife, but Murad’s mother, who was called Nilufer, was the sultan’s favorite. Her sons were the most beloved of their father.
    Murad’s half brother, Ibrahim, was the eldest of the sultan’s sons, but he had been dropped on his head as a baby and had not been right since. He lived in his own palace, lovingly tended to by his slaves and by his women, who were all sterile. Prince Ibrahim alternated between normality and periods of wild insanity. Still, his mother hoped he would follow his father as sultan, and she slyly worked toward this goal.
    Prince Suleiman also kept his own palace, but he had sired two sons and