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curiously. "Do you think I need a personal attendant?"
    "Absolutely," he replied, his luscious lips curling in a smile. "There are a great many things I can do for you."
    I'll just bet you can, I thought grimly. "But do you want to?" I said aloud. For some reason, I felt it was important that his service to me be voluntary. Not that he wouldn't have done whatever he was told to do by his owner; after all, he was a slave, though a very valuable one. What would happen if he refused? I doubted that Scalia would punish him—doubted that she ever had, for neither of them had a mark on him, nor did they have the cowed expressions of people who were habitually abused or bullied. In fact, they appeared to have been well cared for, if not cosseted, by their owner—truly more like cherished pets than slaves.
    "I can think of nothing I would like more," he assured me.
    "Because you have been told to." I said this not as a question, but as a statement.
    He seemed uncertain about how to reply to that, glancing at Scalia out of the corner of his eye as if for direction, but she gave him none that I could see.
    "Because you smell of desire," he said finally. "Being near you pleases me... and I have no doubt that I can please you."
    "An honest answer," Scalia asserted. "You may believe what he tells you. They are both very truthful."
    I nodded. "Yes, I can believe that much," I said.
    This man undoubtedly could please the most stone-cold woman imaginable, but I secretly wondered if it was my desire which pleased him, or if any woman's desire would do.
    Sighing deeply, I relented, knowing that while I might regret my decision in the end, if I refused, I'd regret it even more.
    "It is settled, then," Scalia said to my tiger. "You may escort Kyra to her rooms." Turning to me, she added, "Your quarters have been adapted to suit human needs.
    I believe you will find them to your liking."
    "I'm sure I will," I replied, "but, if you don't mind my asking, how are you going to keep him a secret if he's with me? The Princess, or someone else, may see him."
    "We will take that risk," Scalia said with conviction.
    "I believe it to be worthwhile."
    And her word was law. After all, she was the queen.

Chapter 4
    SCALIA MIGHT HAVE SPOKEN WITH ALL THE CONVICTION
    of a reigning queen, but it was with a great deal of trepidation that I followed my new "attendant" to my quarters. I'd never had anyone do much of anything for me—had never needed to—and I wasn't sure how to deal with him. It was hard enough for me to ask someone to pass me the salt, let alone anything of a more personal nature. How in the world was I going to ask this incredibly attractive, naked man to wash my socks?
    I hoped he was really good at being a slave, because then I wouldn't actually have to tell him to do anything; he would identify what needed to be done and do it.
    While his aptitude for slavery remained to be seen, the one thing I could see was that it was much nicer following him down the hall than Wazak—very nice naked buns and no tail. And his hair! It was so shockingly beautiful it made me want to bury my face in it. I found myself thinking about what it would feel like to have those curls draped across my skin and shivered, despite the heat. I felt a little light-headed, too, and thought perhaps I hadn't drunk enough water with dinner—or had drunk too much wine...
    I tried to think of something else. I remembered hearing that it could get very cold in the desert at night, but the sun hadn't been down long enough to make much of a difference in the temperature yet. What if my bed was made of that shiny stone? What if there were no sheets, and I woke up freezing to death in the middle of the night? And for that matter, how did you turn off those glowing stones? Was it even possible? The more I thought about it, the happier I was that I had him to help me—whatever his name was. I would have to ask him at some point, but would he become as annoyed as Wazak if I asked