Read Online MasterofSilk by Gia Dawn - Free Book Online Page A

beautiful?” She’d asked the question without
thought and now it hung like a blade between them, sharp enough to make
Isabella wish she could vanish from his sight. One of his hands reached out to
smooth her hair across her cheek, embarrassment causing her to her to duck her
head as she saw the frown that marred his expression.
    “Yes…very beautiful.” Another stab of jealousy bit into her
heart, this one not so easily turned aside.
    To her utter shock he reached out and took her chin in his fingers.
She shuddered as she remembered those same long fingers fastening the delicate
clamps around her nipples before reaching so deep between her legs she thought
she’d never survive the pleasure. “In many ways you remind me of Laylia.” His
thumb brushed across her marred cheek. “You have the same drive, the same
concern for others.”
    With a sigh he let her go and reached to pour another cup of
coffee. “Shall I tell you a story?”
    Isabella nodded, resisting the impulse to cradle her cheek
as if she could somehow capture his touch and keep it with her forever. But she
had always been enthralled by the sound of his voice. It soothed across her
senses like silk, the purr of his accent enough to make her body burn with
need. And she needed the distraction.
    “I would love to hear a story.” She smiled when she saw the
glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes and the way his lips twisted up at the
corners.
    “Once, in the beginning, the desert was ruled by djinn and
other minor gods who believed men were nothing more than playthings created for
their amusement. And they coveted perfection above all else.” He ran his tongue
across his lips, making her heart flutter.
    “In those days, there was a carpet maker,” he continued
after taking a drink of coffee, “who created works of such perfect beauty, they
were sold to princes and kings for exorbitant sums of gold. One king—having not
enough money in his coffers—even gave the carpet maker his daughter’s hand in
marriage in exchange for one of the excellently crafted rugs. Seeing this, the
immortals came to covet the works of this craftsman with an obsession, stealing
every new one he finished. One djinn even went so far as to steal the man’s wife,
the princess, for hers was a beauty unmatched by other mortal women.” He
stopped and popped a strawberry into his mouth, his lips twisting up sensuously
at the corners.
    Despite herself Isabella giggled at his obvious relish in
telling the story. The same relish with which he’d seduced her before, his sexual
appetite as exotic as his stories. “So did the carpet maker give up his trade
and turn to camel herding instead?” She took a strawberry herself and nibbled
on the sweet, fresh fruit.
    Zayne chuckled, a sound that tingled along her skin. Damn,
if a man could pleasure a woman by the sound of his voice alone she felt
certain Zayne could with his tales of magical creatures and the history of his
desert home.
    “Oh, no, no, no.” His eyes flashed with a dark fire as he
shook his head and gazed at her under the cover of his thick, black lashes. “The
carpet maker was a very clever man. He realized that if he wove the smallest of
flaws into his rugs the djinn and other immortals would have no use for his
carpets and would never again grow jealous of his skill or plague his
household.” Now he leaned forward and touched the back of her hand so lightly
she barely felt the contact. But her heart pounded in her ears and her chest
tightened so she could barely take a breath.
    “Since then many other artists weave such a flaw into their
works so that they do not reawaken the gods of old and tempt them with
perfection. And indeed these imperfections do not detract from the beauty of a
thing but add a uniqueness that is prized even more highly.” Before she guessed
his intent he had moved his hand to tuck back the curtain of her hair, baring
her scars again to his intense and mesmerizing stare. “Do not hide