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He shrugged. “I don’t have a wife, if that’s what you mean. But it is traditional in Sirun not to live alone. We are a nation of community and tribes.”
“So you live with your tribe.”
He nodded slowly. It was true. All his retainers, advisers and prime vizier, were of his tribe.
“Well, that’s great that you can get away when you want.” She gave a small grunt. “My life is the opposite. I live alone and, even when I work, I feel alone.”
“Work?” He hadn’t imagined her working. The women of his tribe rarely worked outside the family. Their work was the family. But this woman was raised in England, he reminded himself. “Ah, you mentioned you were a counsellor.”
She looked sheepish, her lips pressed ruefully together. “Yes, I’ve also done a little modelling,” she said quietly. “I know it seems strange as I’m so petite, but I guess it’s the one place where my difference is appealing. It seems there aren’t that many people who have my dark skin with almond-shaped, hazel eyes.” She shrugged.
There was some strong, macho part which made him dislike her answer. He jumped up and walked across the room, trying to hide his response. But obviously she had become as receptive to him as he’d become to her.
“What’s the matter?”
He decided some version of the truth was required. It would appease his instinctive need for honesty and satisfy her. “I don’t like the idea of people looking at you.”
She laughed and rose from the bed. “I don’t expose my body. Well, not much of it.” She got out of bed and stood naked before him. “Not like this. And, believe me, I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never slept with a stranger.”
He reached out and traced his finger from her cheek, along her jaw, down her chest, across her nipple where he halted, noting her sharp intake of breath and puckering of her rosy flesh. “Good,” he said, looking intently into her eyes. “Your body is breathtaking to look at and to be inside. I would not like to share you.”
“I’m glad you feel like that. Because, no matter how our night began, somewhere it changed and I don’t want to say goodbye yet.”
“Nor me,” he said before pulling her to him, and kissing her. “Nor me,” he repeated before kissing her now open mouth, satisfying her invitation.
Some time later,Sarah lay soaking in the bath as the sun streamed inside the castle. It was a different place from the previous night. Now she could see that although it might be ancient, it had been well-maintained and was quite luxurious in places. Especially the suite of rooms she’d been given. Fit for a queen.
She was alone now, and it felt strange—the opposite of how she’d felt in England. There she’d always been surrounded by people but had always felt lonely. Here, it was the opposite. There was literally no one in the large castle, and she felt content. Kadar had gone to the nearby village, where he believed her backpack would be found. She’d been concerned at first thatit might be dangerous, but he’d kissed her fears away before leaving. He seemed to have the knack of instilling a trust in him, which swept away any doubt, any uncertainty. Just as he’d swept her off her feet the day before.
She stepped out of the bath, wrapped herself in a towel and walked over to the window, looking toward the village. It was ridiculous, but she felt a connection to him already. Like a compass point directing her to where he was. He was all she could think about. The passion they’d shared… their instinctive knowledge of each other… It seemed unbelievable, but it had happened. And, it seemed, he wanted the relationship—because that’s what she felt it to be now—to continue. He’d invited her to return to the city with him. And to stay with him until she could re-organize her itinerary. And she stood a much better chance of figuring out how to track down her unknown family—if she had any left—in the city.
All in all, she thought, as she went through the sumptuous wardrobe once more, things were looking up.
Sarah heardKadar before she saw him. She’d gathered the clothes she’d been wearing the day before, and was at the top of the stairs. She purposely halted so she could enjoy the sound of his voice as he spoke on the phone to someone. The timbre of his voice sent shivers of desire through her. She pressed her hand to her stomach and closed her eyes as she remembered the feel of his lips there, and lower. How he’d whispered Arabic endearments which she’d felt in her soul. But this morning there was no hint of seduction in his voice, only control, only authority.
She opened her eyes and frowned slightly. Again she wondered at the incongruity of such a man being alone in the desert, in this magnificent castle. And for the first time, she wondered who he was speaking to. She understood little of what was being said, as he was speaking in Arabic. But her grandfather had used to speak in Arabic in heated moments, and particularly towards the end of his life, when he seemed to slip back into the past. And some words she was familiar with.
Home. Family.
And a phrase she’d become very familiar with—“leaving Sirun was the only way forward”. But now it seemed Kadar was saying that something else was the only way forward. She looked over the landing down into the hall in time to catch him repeat himself. Yes, he was definitely saying that marriage was the only way forward. That marriage was the solution. Just as her grandfather had referred to their emigration to England as being the only solution. But if marriage was the solution, she couldn’t help wondering whose marriage and what the problem was.
She turned to go and the swish of her white silk abaya coincided with Kadar ending his phone call. He looked up suddenly, and Sarah was surprised to see a guilty expression on his face—as if he’d been caught out.
“Sarah! I thought you were still bathing,” he said, as she came down the stairs to greet him.
“I was anxious to know if you found my backpack,” she said, suddenly more anxious to know why he looked so uncomfortable at being overheard.
“Yes, here it is.”
He handed her the backpack. She rummaged in it and looked up at him bleakly. “There’s no passport!”
He shrugged. “I managed to locate your iPad, phone and a few items of clothing. They weren’t with the backpack. But I encouraged the families to locate them, which they did.”
She looked up, impressed, as she stuffed her clothes into her backpack. “Wow. And they didn’t put up a fight?”
“No,” he said, shooting her a quick, amused look. “Look, don’t worry about the paperwork. We can organize that with the British Consulate office in the city.”
She liked the way he said ‘we’. It made her warm inside and confident that he, like her, was looking for more than a one-night stand.
