Delia's hand smoothed over his shoulder as she passed, headed for the ancient coffee pot that sang on the stove. She poured them both a cup, hers thic... and sweet with cream, his black as his byzantine curls. They sat together and looked across the table at each other. Something good and dirty flashed between their eyes, a spark of igniting fire over the rims of their mugs. “When does your husband come home?” Max asked. “Not until this evening,” she answered. In one smooth motion he rose,. Her face improved considerably when she smiled, and Jalile responded to her change of heart enough to offer a little more than his first thought."Well, Sergeant," he said, "I might be persuaded to offer thirty for her." I couldn't take less than a hundred," replied the Sergeant and Jalile decided to save a lot of time."Fifty, or take her away," he offered."But..." Abdur was interrupted by Jalile beckoning the next in line and throwing the abaya to Nahla."Oh, well, fifty then," Abdur said,. More

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