Please note: Rated "PG" – mild violence and strong language

"Ahhhh," he growled, "I love this western style lingerie with the hooks in the front!" As he loosened the fastener on her bra, allowing her breasts to spill out, Brenda inhaled in fear, struggling harder to pull her hands free. When Rashid lowered his head to the valley between her breasts, Brenda cut loose with a scream that probably was heard all the way in the foothills of Drakar.

Neither one of them heard the door of Brenda’s room opening softly. Rashid continued to struggle with Brenda on the bed as Brenda fought his advances, kicking her legs and trying to pull her body out free of his grasp.

As Rashid glared into Brenda’s terror-filled eyes, an animalistic grin twisted his features. Brenda saw his malicious intent and inhaled to scream again, but just then they both heard the distinctive tinkle of china and smelled the spicy fragrance of cinnamon tea.

Rashid froze in place and looked back over his left shoulder to see Robei, one of the senior palace servants, pouring afternoon tea at the sideboard. Her head was bowed in respect. She had learned many years earlier that her royal masters were not to be questioned, no matter what their actions. He turned back to Brenda and swore softly under his breath, releasing her hands.

The prince rolled quickly off the bed, his labored breathing the only sign of what might have happened if Robei had not followed her daily routine to the letter. After casting furious glances to both Brenda and Robei, he stormed towards the door. "We haven’t finished this conversation, passion flower," he said through gritted teeth to Brenda. Then he spun and went out the door, slamming it loudly behind him.

Tears were running down Brenda’s cheeks as she tried to re-fasten her bra and close her blouse. She sat up, her fingers shaking, and found Robei crouched next to the bed, offering her a cup of fragrant tea. "Perhaps Missy Brenda would like some tea to calm her nerves?"

"I think I need something a whole lot stronger than tea, Robei," Brenda responded bitterly. When her fingers refused to re-do the buttons on her blouse, Robei gently pushed her hands away. She handed the handle-less cup to Brenda and then and did the buttons of her blouse for her. As Brenda tried to thank Robei, the olive-skinned woman shook her head and placed one finger to Brenda’s mouth. Then she moved her hands to cup them around Brenda’s, pushing the tea towards Brenda’s trembling lips.

Brenda studied Robei as she slowly sipped the tea. She was dressed in trousers and a hip length tunic of bright red silk, her long black hair pulled back into a knot at the nape of her neck. Robei had attended to Brenda almost exclusively since Brenda’s arrival at the palace as Rashid’s fiancée. She seemed to be of a higher station than most of the other serving women in the palace, and Brenda occasionally caught her watching Rashid with unquestioning admiration.

After Brenda took a few more sips of tea, Robei took the cup from her. "Missy feel better now?"

Brenda nodded. "Yes, thank you very much, Robei." She rose slowly to her feet and was surprised that her knees didn’t buckle under her.

As Brenda moved to her desk, Robei’s gaze followed her. "I brought some of your favorite rice cakes today. Missy Brenda would like some?"

Brenda gripped the desk tightly with both hands as she lowered herself into the chair. "Not today, Robei. I seem to have lost my appetite," she answered grimly.

Robei picked up the tray. "Perhaps Missy Brenda would like to go for a swim in the pool? Or I could draw you a cool bath?" She set the tray down on the corner of the desk and reached a cool hand out to touch Brenda’s still-flushed forehead. "Missy feels warm. Is feeling alright?"

Brenda shook her head. {Whatever made me think that I could fit in here? I would never be able to turn a blind eye to Rashid’s actions. This culture just goes against everything I believe. How could I have been so stupid to think that I could make a life with a man like Rashid?} "I’m feeling fine, Robei." She was going to open a drawer of her desk but then doubted the wisdom of letting Robei know all of her thoughts. "I think I just want to be alone to write for a while – maybe even take some pictures of this room." She tried to smile. "After all, once I’m married to Rashid, this won’t be my room anymore!"

Robei smiled in return. "Robei is glad Missy Brenda is not ill. You call for Robei if you change your mind about bath." She bowed to Brenda and picked up her tray, exiting the room as quietly as she had come in.

Once Robei had left, Brenda quickly went to the door and locked it. The tears that fell as she returned to her desk were not torrents, but a continuous stream. She sat down and opened the center drawer of the antique white desk, drawing out a folder of photos. As she slowly opened it and began to go through them, the tears flowed faster.

Harlan had always made fun of Brenda’s degree in photojournalism. Anything that wasn’t somehow related to his field of business was regarded as "nonsense" by Harlan Barrett. When some of Brenda’s work had been finally published in People Magazine, Harlan reluctantly congratulated her. Then he went on to ridicule the subject matter she had chosen – the "beautiful people" of Hollywood contrasted to the homeless on the streets of Los Angeles.

As Brenda leafed through the pictures, many of them photos of starving children in Muwai, she shook her head at her own stupidity. {Everyone told you. Even Lois told you that you were crazy, thinking that you could somehow transplant your American values into a country where public whippings were still a common occurrence.} She wiped her tears away, her thoughts momentarily touching on what Jax probably would have thought of her naivete, but then she banished that thought.

Brenda suddenly straightened up at the desk, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. {Sitting here crying about what an fool you’ve been isn’t going to help anything, Brenda. Do something about it instead. Take a positive step instead of feeling sorry for yourself.} Now that she had seen the kind of man Rashid really was, everything seemed so clear. She couldn’t possibly stay here and marry him. As she heard the dull roar of another explosion in the distance, she rose from the desk to pace the room.

{Call someone. You’ve just got to call someone who’ll pull some strings and get you out of this h*ll on earth. But who?} Brenda briefly considered calling her father, but then just as quickly rejected the idea. He would just criticize her for not finishing what she started and tell her to give it another chance. Brenda was tempted to believe that Harlan and Rashid’s father had planned this wedding when both of their children were born in some kind of drunken "new-father" bonding ritual.

As Brenda sat back down at her desk, she straightened up with a revelation. {Ned! Call Ned!} Her best friend in college, Lois Cerullo, had married a wealthy corporate blue-blood named Ned Ashton. Brenda even heard her father speak respectfully on occasion about Ned’s grandfather, Edward Quartermaine. Brenda had gotten to know Ned when she was Lois’s maid of honor, and she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to call his grandfather and ask that he call in a few markers and get Brenda out of Drakar.

Her spirits rising with her new plan formulated, Brenda picked up the ornate handset of the antique telephone on her desk. But when she put it to her ear, there was silence. She clicked the button up and down on the console of the telephone, but still nothing.

Brenda’s spirits began to plummet, but then she hung up the handset with new resolve and went to her dresser. She touched up her face, making sure that she didn’t appear to have been crying. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail high on her head, even though she knew that Rashid had frequently told her he preferred her hair down. After tying a red scarf around the ponytail and changing the button-down oxford cloth shirt for a form-fitting halter top in a matching red that she knew Rashid would consider scandalous, she marched to the door of her suite and unlocked it.

She was immediately greeted by two large palace guards. They stood outside her door and turned to face her when she opened her door. "I want to see Rashid," she announced, trying to sound as brave as possible.

"Missy Brenda is to stay in her room," one of the guards answered her. If there was one thing Brenda wouldn’t miss about this country, it was being referred to as though she weren’t in the room when she was standing right there.

"Missy Brenda wants to see her fiancé, Crown Prince Rashid, and she wants to see him *right now*!!" Brenda crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot for emphasis. As one guard exchanged looks with the other, the one finally put his arm out to the side and indicated that she should follow him.

As Brenda fell in line behind the first guard, she felt the presence of the second guard behind her. {Stay calm, Brenda. Stay focused. You’re an American citizen. They can’t just keep you here against your will.} After a short walk, the first guard opened a set of double doors that led to another set of doors. He gestured that Brenda should go inside.

"I will ask if His Highness can see you now," the guard said, holding his rifle crossways in front of him and preparing to go through the second set of doors.

"Never mind!" Brenda spat, pushing the guard and rifle aside and putting her hand on the doorknob. "I’ll give him the message myself!"

As Brenda burst through the second set of double doors, all conversation in the room ceased. Rashid was seated at a large circular table with several other men in military uniforms. He looked surprised to see her, but also annoyed. "Brenda, my flower," he said, rising from his chair, "we are in the middle of a very important meeting." He came towards her, his annoyance at her boldness and wardrobe obvious from the look on his face.

She drew close enough to him so that his associates didn’t hear her. "I’m not your flower – I’m not your love – I’m not your *anything*, Rashid," she hissed. "And I *certainly* don’t want to be your fiancée anymore!"

Rashid smiled, casting a nervous glance at the men behind him. "Darling, this isn’t the time or place to discuss this. Why don’t you go back to your suite……"

"I don’t want to go back to my suite, Rashid," Brenda said in a louder voice. "I want to make a telephone call but my phone isn’t working."

"None of the phone lines are working, my pet," Rashid said in a low voice, taking her by the arm. "The rebels seem to have cut the lines some distance from the palace. Our technicians are working even now to restore communications with the outside world."

Brenda pulled her arm from his grasp. "Well, it really doesn’t matter, *darling*," Brenda drawled sarcastically, "because I just want to get the h*ll out of this country and as far away from you as I can!"

Rashid laughed nervously, looking again at the curious faces of the men at the table. "Pre-wedding jitters," he said by way of explanation, shrugging his shoulders. Then he turned back to Brenda, his eyes glittering with malice. "I told you that we would discuss this later in *private*, Brenda. Now go back to your suite with the guards before I have to teach you a lesson."

Brenda’s eyes widened. "TEACH ME A LESSON! What do you think I am, some three-year-old who just knocked over your favorite vase?" Her voice grew louder and she didn’t see Rashid’s gesture towards the guards behind her. "I can’t *believe* the nerve you’ve got, Mr. Crown Prince, ordering me to my room! Just who the bloody h*ll do you think you are?"

Rashid pulled her against him and spoke to her in a low, malicious voice. "You will go with the guards *now*, Brenda, or I will tell them to remove you from this room physically!" He spat some words at the guard in rapid Drakarian that Brenda failed to recognize.

As Brenda saw the violence in Rashid’s eyes, it took away much of her bravado. She wrenched her arm free of Rashid’s grasp, gave the military associates a glare, and then turned on her heel to follow the guard out of the room. Even in her retreat, she kept her head held high, her ponytail bouncing in defiance.

The return to the living quarters section of the palace was made in much the same fashion as the trip to see Rashid – one guard in the lead, Brenda in the middle, and one guard bringing up the rear. However, when they came to the hallway where her suite was located, Brenda was surprised when the lead guard kept walking instead of turning left.

"Hey!" Brenda yelled, pointing behind her. "My room is *that* way! We’re going the wrong way!" But the guards just kept on marching, the one behind Brenda pushing her along to keep moving. Brenda kept objecting until they reached another set of doors, and the lead guard opened them with a key. As Brenda realized their destination, she opened her mouth to scream, but the guard behind her pushed her inside.

"NO! Wait! Don’t do this!!" Brenda was caught off balance by the rough shove and before she could spin around to try to get out again, the door was slammed shut behind her and locked from the outside. Brenda hammered her fists on the doors for some time, screaming as loudly as she could, but finally she gave up in exhaustion and turned around to put her back to the doors. Bowing her head in frustration and defeat, she slid down the doors, giving in to the tears that had been building since she left Rashid. Now he had her right where he wanted her. Locked in *his* suite of rooms.

After allowing herself some tears, Brenda quickly wiped her hand against her eyes and rose to her feet. She ran to the telephone that was on a table next to the bed, but the line was dead. Apparently Rashid hadn’t lied about that. She went to the windows and pulled open the white lattice-work shutters. As she gazed down into the courtyard below, her heart sank. Rashid’s room was on the top floor of the palace, and it was at least a three-story drop to the ground. Without some kind of ladder or rope, jumping would be suicidal.

Brenda turned back to the room, chewing on her lip in thought. She went to Rashid’s desk. She pulled open drawers, searching the contents for a possible key that would unlock the doors from the inside. The side drawers only contained writing materials and various books and photos. When she found a stack of the letters that she had written to Rashid during her college years, she almost laughed. They were rubber-banded and stuffed all the way in the back of a drawer. {Wow – you can tell how much he loved me. He certainly treasured my thoughts, didn’t he.}

Shaking her head, Brenda closed the side drawer, sitting down in the desk chair. The center drawer of the desk was locked, but Brenda found a letter opener and began prying at the drawer. Although she scratched the finish, she couldn’t have cared less. When the drawer finally gave way, she began pushing things around in a mad search for a set of keys. As she sighed in desperation when she didn’t find any, her fingers settled on another set of letters, this one thinner. She pulled them out and was immediately struck by the overpowering scent of jasmine. The stationery was lacy and a pale shade of lavender, and Brenda’s heart sank even further. {You really *are* such a fool, Brenda. The whole time you thought he loved you, he was carrying on with another woman.} Fighting back tears, Brenda shoved the letters back in the desk drawer and rose from the chair.

She paced the room for a long time, her arms folded. {You can’t just stay here, Brenda. When he comes back, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel. Robei won’t be coming in this time to save you from him.} As shadows began to lengthen on the wall, the tension of the day began to take a toll on Brenda. She decided to lay down on Rashid’s bed and rest her eyes, just for a few minutes.

*^*^*^*

Brenda came into consciousness with a jolt. She was no longer alone in the room. Darkness had fallen outside, and the bed was surrounded by women in flowing silk robes. The lower halves of their faces were covered by silk veils in the Drakarian fashion. "Who the h*ll are you?" Brenda asked sleepily, and then to her dismay, one of the women reached out and grabbed her arm roughly. Brenda scanned the faces quickly, but Robei was not among them.

"Hey! Let go of me!" Brenda shrieked, but two more of the women moved in on the other side of her. As she began to struggle against them, another woman came towards her, bearing a cupful of something. "You guys better let go of me or I’ll tell Rashid about this!"

Brenda could see the smirk on the face of the woman with the cup. "Drink this." She tried to put the cup to Brenda’s lips, but Brenda jerked away.

"Go to h*ll!" Brenda shouted back, struggling harder. "RASHID!!" Brenda screamed, but then more of the women moved closer to the bed to hold her flailing arms and legs. "Take your filthy hands off me, you Stepford bimbos!"

"Open mouth and drink!" the leader commanded again, and she nodded to one of the women holding Brenda’s arms. Brenda began to fear for her life as the accomplice took her hand off Brenda’s arm and grabbed Brenda’s nose, pinching it shut so that she couldn’t breathe. With no choice, Brenda was forced to drink the warm, pungent-smelling liquid that burned like fire as it went down her throat. She didn’t dare try not to swallow.

After she had drained the cup, much against her will, the women let Brenda go and backed away from the bed. Brenda spat and wiped the back of her mouth with her hand, looking at the group of them furiously. "You stupid, ignorant b*tches!" she railed. "Don’t you realize that Rashid isn’t a prince – he’s a monster!" The women were silent, and suddenly Brenda caught her breath as the room began to spin.

"Ooohhh, I don’t feel so good," Brenda muttered, leaning back on her hands. The faces of the veiled women began to double and triple, and when they came and pulled her from the bed, Brenda’s muscles felt like they had turned to tapioca. She tried to stand up straight and dig in her heels, but she only sagged between them like a limp rag doll.

The next hour passed in a total blur for Brenda. She vaguely realized that she was stripped of her clothing and lowered into a large tub of floral-scented water. The women worked as a team, thoroughly cleansing every inch of her body. Brenda’s head lay against a bath pillow as the women scrubbed her flesh until it was pink and glowing. Although she was aware that she was in a bathtub, Brenda had the distinct sensation that she was floating somewhere outside her body, watching everything that was happening from a distance. Even her hair was shampooed, and they leaned her forward to pour clean water over her head, careful to shield her eyes and nose as they did.

The women lifted Brenda from the tub and lay her on a bath sheet on a nearby shower bench. She was too weak to lift a finger as they shaved her underarms and legs. A sweet-smelling conditioner was applied to her hair and massaged into her scalp until it, too, was glowing. As she continued to lay on the bench, the women came back as a group with small vials in their hands. Thoughts of stopping them drifted through Brenda’s mind, but her head sagged back against the bench languidly as the harem began to massage fragrant oil into every pore of her body.

Brenda watched in fascination as one of the women poured the oil on Brenda’s hand. She took her fingers and began working the oil into every one of her fingers, smoothing it down into the crevices between Brenda’s fingers. As they began to massage other parts of her body, Brenda’s eyes rolled back. She began to drift into a dream state, recalling nights on the beach at Malibu when Jax massaged her with hot oils. Her breasts became fuller and began to ache painfully as the women continued their ministrations.

When the massage was completed, Brenda felt as though her whole body was being caressed by feather dusters. She opened her eyes again to see that the women had taken small, fluffy poofs of maribou feathers and were applying perfumed powder to her slick body. Brenda finally found the power to make her vocal chords work. "I guess you have to do that so that I don’t slide right out of those satin sheets, huh, girls?" She laughed raucously, but the women went on with their task, oblivious to her words.

After she had been thoroughly powdered and perfumed, the women hoisted her under the arms and had to drag Brenda back to Rashid’s bed. Once Brenda had been arranged between the satin sheets, nude, sensually primed, the women floated back out of her field of vision and disappeared.

The dreams continued for Brenda, even though some feeling was slowly returning to her muscles. Her breasts and lower body were tingling, and even the pressure of the satin sheets against them caused Brenda to writhe with unsatisfied discomfort. As she closed her eyes, images of Jax making love to her flooded her mind. She could see him as clearly as if he was in the room – coming to her in the night, taking her in his arms, pushing the hair gently back off her forehead.

Brenda gasped when she could even hear his voice. "Brenda, love, I’m here."

She reached out her hands and swore that she could feel the contours of his face, the cleft in his chin, the spun gold locks that felt like the softest down. Brenda tried to open her eyes wide. {Wow! That must have been some powerful dope that they gave you, Bren! You can even see those amazing blue/green eyes!}

Brenda closed her eyes. {Well, if those awful women had to drug me, at least I’m having one h*ll of a good dream!} She inhaled as she could feel the touch of Jax’s lips to hers. She remembered the anxious moments when she would kiss him – first, the gentle touch that teased at so much pleasure ahead. Then the ecstasy when he would finally grind his lips against hers and send his tongue thrusting into her mouth -- claiming her, enticing her, daring her to pull away. She whimpered aloud as she put her arms up and around her dream lover, pulling him down to kiss her more fully.

But her dream was shattered when she felt her dream lover grab her arms and push her away. "Brenda! Wake up! Snap out of it!"

Brenda fell back onto the pillow and finally managed to open her eyes wide. She could barely make out his face, but he looked so much like…..

"Jax? Is it you?" She shook her head, desperately trying to clear the fog. "Is it *really* you?"

Jax gave her a smile. "None other, duchess. Now can we please get the bloody h*ll out of here?"

To be continued……