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in place. “Check.”
    She kept her expression of triumph subdued, looking down at the board while Zenovia considered her next move.
    The most stressful, important game of chess she’d ever played. It had taken all the clarity she possessed to play carefully, to take her time with her moves, and to think ahead with strategy. Jane was an excellent chess player thanks to Effie, who’d spent many an evening playing with her while her father worked in his study.
    But considering that her body still hummed, and she was utterly aware of the woman sitting across from her—and the predicament in which she found herself—Jane had had a difficult time concentrating.
    But now, she’d just played what she hoped would be the third-to-last move in a game she would win…and then…
    Jane swallowed hard. Though she despised the situation in which she found herself, she also could not keep from looking at Zenovia…noticing the thrust of heavy raindrop breasts that shivered behind her toga, and the full sweep of her lips…and the hand . The hand, the fingers that had so easily and ruthlessly drawn pleasure from her.
    The scent of Jane’s own musk still hung in the air.
    Zenovia reached with that very hand to move her king’s bishop into place, and Jane’s heart nearly stopped. That was not the move I expected .
    “Check…mate.” Zenovia looked up at her with a most satisfied expression, her hot, dark eyes pinning Jane in place.
    A rush of cold shock followed by a wave of heat flooded her as she stared at the board. No , she thought. No!
    But there was no way out. No escape. The game was over.
    “You were much more skilled than I anticipated, but in the end, lovely, lovely Jane, you’ve succumbed.” Zenovia’s voice dropped into a caress. “Nevertheless, I’m not at all disappointed. You were more of a challenge than most men I’ve played. And because of that, you will take on a most powerful, important position.”
    “No,” Jane said, standing abruptly, moving out of reach of Zenovia. “You cannot keep me here. You cannot force me to stay and be your…”
    “Concubine.” Zenovia smiled and rose easily from her seat. “You have no idea of the honor which I would bestow on you.”
    “It’s no honor to me. I’m a married woman, I love my husband, and I have no desire to be your concubine or to even stay here in Amazonia. I want only to return to London.” Jane started toward the door, unsure of what she would do if she even made it through, but determined to try.
    To her surprise, Zenovia didn’t attempt to stop her. And when she reached the exit and flung the doors open, Jane realized why: the guards were there. And they were not about to allow her to pass. Long pikes came down and blocked the way, and one of them prodded at her, leaving Jane no choice but to back into the chamber.
    The doors closed again and she turned, her heart pounding, her breathing fast and shallow, and her body tingling with unwelcome anticipation.
    Zenovia appeared to have waited patiently for Jane to realize she would not be going free, and in the mean time she’d walked over to the large sunken pool. Through the roaring in her ears, the thudding of her pulse, Jane heard the splash of water as it tumbled enthusiastically into the large pool. A soft floral scent filled the air.
    “Come, Jane. You won’t be leaving…and you might just as well relax.” Zenovia turned away, and when she pivoted back around, she pulled the silky black toga from her body and let it fall in a crumpled, dark cloud on the tile floor. “And enjoy.”
    Jane could not pull her eyes away, for Zenovia was pale and beautiful. Strong, tall, powerful, with lean muscles in her arms and legs, a firm, ridged belly with a flat navel. Not a soft curve anywhere but at her breasts. They were the size of grapefruits, hanging in gentle teardrops that swayed enticingly with each movement. She had dark areolae and eager red nipples, and the patch of closely trimmed hair at