Once more she surprised Abul. He felt certain his admission would cause her to break. “Well then, Mrs. Ryan, let us not keep you waiting. It’s been a long hot day in the mountains. You see how my feet perspire. Does that offend you?”
“It does not offend.”
“As my friend, Zubair, has observed, I have not washed them in quite some time. How do you propose to clean the feet of the man who made you a merry widow, Mrs. Ryan?” The men laughed again.
Tilting her head to look up into his scornful face she fought to hide her loathing of him, but at the same time another powerful wave of heat washed over her and she blushed.
“I wish to clean your feet with my mouth,” she said softly and looked down again. Once more the men laughed derisively.
“Very well, Mrs. Ryan, but I want to see the devoti
