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name.
    After they rescued her, he would hide her away to keep her safe, and never let her go.
    He briefly closed his eyes and prayed they would be in time.

Chapter 3
    A LEXANDRIA , F EBRUARY 1816
    “They’ll come for you soon.”
    Grayson’s quiet words sent terror and hope coursing through her body in equal measure.
    When Portia had heard his voice on the other side of the small ventilation grate in the wall, she thought she was hallucinating. She’d been kept in the small windowless room for almost three days. The only person she had seen was the man who brought her meals. Perhaps he was a eunuch; she couldn’t tell, but given where she was being held, it was most probable.
    Fear sliced across her stomach and she pushed closer against the wall, as if trying to get to Grayson. Panic like a rising storm swept over her. She was being held captive in a harem. At first the girl within, the girl who craved knowledge and experience, had been excited at the prospect of learning the harem secrets—until she realized why she was here. To her horror, she wasn’t there to be ransomed. She had overheard her kidnappers as they put her on the ship bound for Alexandria. The sultan had acquired her for his bed. She was actually going to be put into his harem against her will. Inexperienced as she was, she wasn’t stupid. She understood that it meant she’d been captured and delivered to the sultan to be used as a sex slave.
    Portia Flagstaff pressed her fingers through the wire mesh, hooking them around Grayson’s as if her life hinged on his. She gave a choked cry. Her life did depend on him. If he couldn’t rescue her, she could find herself trapped and lost here forever. For a woman who loved her freedom and exploring the world, being shut away frightened her more than losing her virginity to a stranger.
    She peered through the small grate. Grayson stood on the other side of the wall, dressed in the flowing robes of an Arab. Thank goodness he was already inside the palace, but there was one of him against hundreds of the sultan’s men.
    “When they come, you’re to submit. Submit and live. I’ll find you, and I will rescue you. But you must survive. Promise me. Don’t do anything to antagonize them. They will hurt you.” His voice was low and urgent, her anchor in this strange and dangerous world.
    “I promise,” she whispered through the small ventilation mesh. If Grayson Devlin, Viscount Blackwood, promised he’d save her, then he would. She did not doubt him.
    “Good girl. I have Philip with me, and we have help from the British consulate. I know you’re strong; however, now would be the time to learn humility.”
    “What will they do with me? I’ve been locked in here for several days.”
    She swore she could hear Grayson mutter, “Thank Christ.”
    She heard footsteps approaching her cell, a key turning in the lock. She gave a small cry.
    “Portia, don’t panic. You’re to be brought before the sultan today. You only have to do two things: submit and survive. For me—please …” His voice held a desperate edge, and she knew the time to face her nemesis had arrived.
    “We will save you. Do you trust me?”
    She gripped his fingers tighter. “Yes. Tell Philip … tell him I’m fine, and that I love him,” she said, choking on her words.
    She heard Grayson growl, “Don’t give up, ever. No matter how long it takes, I will come for you. Don’t think or talk as if you’ll never see him again. We will rescue you. Keep your wits about you and be ready to escape as soon as we can get you.”
    Before she could answer, she heard the sound of someone about to open the door. She quickly moved away from the grate. The Arab who entered her cell didn’t speak. He merely gestured for her to precede him out into the corridor.
    She took a steadying breath and walked with her head held high, Grayson’s words—
submit, survive
—echoing in her head.
    The minute she stepped through the door two guards fell in