Back for More, 3
Hi all,
finals time at school
and here's the thing,
all I've been doing is writing!
I owe so much homework it's ridiculous
I came to the blog a few times over the past couple of weeks with intentions on updating that turned to mush, because here and there my attention spans turns to that of a three year old with priorities.
What have I been writing? Someone to Watch Over Me, which I managed to somehow come out of my funk with. But here's the kicker, the other day I got about ten pages done, which i haven't been able to do in ages, but thanks to my common sense bailing on me, I didn't save it in microsoft word and lost everything!!! not the whole book, but my ten hard earned pages, fortunately even though I cant recapture every word, I remember the gist of the scenes and managed to get back to where I was before.
To Linda who hopefully visits the blog, I am trying viciously to finish my historical novel and then I will be working on the MUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHH
delayed
hiatused everything else what have you onslaught my my crap' that has been delaying the re release of Once is Never Enough.
You guys are a bunch of ride or diers for that book and I hope to get it done for you soon, I Hope its every thing you hope for.
Okay, not to mention I managed some work on Breakdown, maybe I am breaking a writers rule or something, but since I am currently not published I consider myself an aspiring rider, but I wasn't sure I liked that story, but after I stepped away and looked at it, its kind of adorable. Jack is more of a nicer hero than I usually do, but he's just hot. I should have part 2 up by friday.
Here's an excerpt from The Sheik's Bed,
enjoy - and again, your support, from the bottom of my heart,
Thanks:)
Sheik’s Bed
By Rachel Cade
Chapter 1
The Sahara, 1987
He was her father’s friend, surely that would allow her some leverage. Karen Wexler wrung her rope tied hands behind her back, weariness stinging her shoulders. Sweat and dirt made her clothes; a brown button down safari top and shorts, cling to her body like an unwanted second skin.
Not long before she had been on a jeep with four of her colleagues from Travel magazine snapping photographs for the next month’s issue. The next they knew they were being ambushed by twenty armed men, and yanked from the vehicle like cattle and ushered into separate tents.
That had been what could have been hours ago, she was wearing a watch, but due to the current arrangement of her hands it was pretty useless.
Screaming could have been an option, but in this part of the world, keeping ones mouth shut was the best option. Though her legs weren’t tied, the armed guard standing not too far away from her was probably well versed in the use of his AK-47.
She had no desire to test him.
Would she even be allowed to plead her case? Since this turn of events hadn’t occurred to her, she had no idea what to expect. It had been a bad idea to let her friends talk her into flying over this part of the world, her father had been an Ambassador to() ten years ago, but that hadn’t given her any clout here. With a margarita and a couple of beers her conscience had proved pretty useless and she agreed to go. Now look.
The rustling of fabric from behind her signaled someone else had entered the tent with them. When the man next to her moved it took resolve from the center of her soles not to scream and beg for her life. At four feet, his gun was far too close for her (not to mention her bladder’s) liking.
He spoke to the other man in Arabic, she vaguely recognized the word yes; and continued straining pointlessly to hear their rapid exchange.
Karen squeezed her eyes tightly together, vowing she would never drink again, if she were ever given the opportunity. The colorful rug beneath her shifted, then several times, to the thump of her heartbeat as someone closed in on her.
Head bowed from fright more than custom, a pair of shining brown boots lay in front of her. Licking dry lips, she refused to let her eyes move up from them.
“American.” Her stomach sank, he was not pleased, and she wasn’t sure if he’d made a statement or asked a question. What would be the punishment if her guess was wrong?
“Constantly testing your boundaries.” Each word was spoken in a clipped way, Karen knew the man must have been seething.
She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, despite the fact that the tent was surprisingly cool compared to the over 100 degree temperatures that sweltered over the sands outside, she was stifling, her tongue devoid of water. Her breath and thoughts, both erratic, and she was helpless to control either one of them.
This was the first time in her life that she was completely out of control.
Her camera dropped to the ground, hitting her exposed knee right against the bone, making her flinch, the exposed negatives of her film came next, hitting the other knee.
For a moment, she felt her lips tremble as two months of work was destroyed right in front of her very eyes. Karen bit down on her sharp tongue, to the point tears brimmed on her eyes.
“You’re a reporter?”
“Yes.” She answered reluctantly.
“And how’s that been working out for you?”
Karen looked up, her scowl could have deflated the tent. Her eyes made contact with the dark, glittering irises of Sheik Tamir Rahman. He was her father’s friend, it became a mantra over and over in her eyes. The last time she’d seen him she’d been on a landing strip, a girl of nine holding her father’s hand as a then almost twenty five year old Tamir had pecked her on her cheek and walked out of her life to get married.
And she’d cried so hard when his back came into view, he was her friend. He’d been her only friend then.
That had been ten years ago, and she’d all but forgotten about it until she’d been in a small hole in the wall bar in Morocco getting drunk, having a good time when someone mentioned his name. Like a damn fool, she’d said they’d been friends.
He stood over her, live in the here and now, no longer a memory, time had barely touched him, though he’d cut the long waist length hair she used to yank on like a rope before charging off into a dead run, and he always caught her. It now rested, in feathered layers falling back to the nape of his neck. Instead of a clean face he carried a neatly trimmed beard that accentuated a sharp jaw line.
“Uh, my God.” She mumbled, unintentionally, casting her head down.
Her thoughts might as well have mimicked his own. Tamir could have leapt to the top of the tent when the deep brown face tilted up at him. Karen, he would have known her face anywhere. She obviously knew who he was, thus her reaction. Placing his hands on his hips he used the seconds to regain his composure.
“You took my camera.” She stated quietly. “That was all I had, can I please go?”
“No.”
“Why?” Karen asked, staring at him with the same intuitive dark brown eyes that constantly read him all those years ago. “I don’t have anything else you want.”
She was afraid, the thought made him frown. Their past didn’t matter, the times had changed, she was a foreigner that had been trespassing on his lands, nothing more.
Moving behind her, he gave her a start when he cut the ties from her wrist. “I trust you know how pointless it is to try to run.”
Tamir didn’t look at her as he spoke, scrambling away from him she massaged her lightly bruised wrists. Holding his head low he escaped the tent; only outside could he manage to take in an easy breath.
He stayed out of her way for a while, in a separate tent he had his men bring her things to him. He now had her entire life splayed out in front of him, aside from the broken camera and useless film he’d left with her, all she had was an empty canteen her passport and several magazines in her bag.
When she barely passed his waist she had insisted on being called Kari, and she’d always been more boy than girl, never content unless she was dirty and fighting with all the males. It had been acceptable then to him because she was just a kid, but now… he sighed as he stared at her smiling passport picture.
She was going to have to be made to understand that she couldn’t do anything she wanted. A lesson her father should have damn well taught her a long time ago. It would have been easy for Tamir to have one of his men contact Bruce Wexler, now retired and living in Los Angeles. But Tamir didn’t. Instead he had Nidal make a bath, and then he had Karen Wexler fetched and brought to him.
Nidal had no love for Americans and his regard for women was questionable, one look from Tamir as he brought Karen into the room made him promptly take the woman off his shoulder and place her in the center of the room. She stumbled slightly, her hair looked tousled, and she appeared to be repressing what he guessed would have been a barrage of curses.
It was then that Tamir came to realize the true change in her, gone were the short stubbly legs and arms that were constantly grabbing what they wanted, in their place were long well toned athletic limbs, she obviously still had plenty of spirit about her.
“Leave us, Nidal.” The younger man nodded, briefly glancing at Karen and Tamir almost rolled his eyes at the gossip that was surely spreading through the camp. It didn’t matter, his authority would never be questioned.
“Is it all right for me to speak?” Her voice was low, barely constrained sarcasm and anger spiced her words.
Shrugging he answered. “I suppose.”
“Can I see my friends? I just want to know-”
“No harm has come to them.”
“Am I supposed to take your word for that?”
“What else are you going to take?” He challenged.
Karen just wanted the earth to swallow her up. Of all the places she could have been. And all the people she could have been with. Had he even recognized her, she doubted he would have cared if he had. He was arrogant beyond words. And he was probably used to his women being covered from head to toe, following his every move on their knees, with there heads bowed behind him. Oh, she was probably exaggerating, which she had a tendency to do. But she was sure not by much in this case.
God, why hadn’t he aged badly? Why hadn’t gotten overweight and lost most of his hair, a wheeze when he talked wouldn’t have hurt either. Instead he had to be even more devastatingly gorgeous than the man she remembered. Despite the situation and her uncertainty of the outcome, standing there under his gaze reminded her of the carefree girl she was, and the playful wonderful man he used to be.
He’d been sweet enough to blush when she dared kiss him full on the lips at nine. To think of it now made her want to bury her head in the sand, Lord knew there was plenty of it around. She’d snuck into her father’s study and drank two glasses of sherry the night before he was set to leave.
How he could have put up with that, she didn’t know. What a silly little girl she’d been.
“Why would you stare at me so long?” He asked quietly.
It irritated her not knowing if he remembered her, but if she cut the bull and just asked him, how would she put it? Oh Sheik Rahman, you must remember me, the girl you convinced to put a frog in her mouth-
“Are you annoyed by me?” He asked, leaning forward, lacing long bronzed fingers together, waiting. “You rolled your eyes just now.”
“No.”
“Good.” He said standing. “That benefits you, since I am to be your only company tonight.”
The white pants he wore snuggled up against his thighs like a cozy second skin, and Karen could have been a nun and still noticed and reacted to the huge bulge that rested between them. The sleeves on his soft olive shirt revealed well muscled forearms that carried fine soft dark hair. Ordering herself to stop staring was pointless; she’d always been aware of Tamir’s beauty, but this was the first time she could look and desire it with a woman’s eyes.
God girl, what are you doing? You’re lucky if you get out of here with your hands, hell your life. Stop ogling him, he’s married. And then her stomach clenched hard.
Damn, that’s right. Maybe his wife was even at the camp.
“You can bathe and change your clothes. I will be back later and we will dine together.”
“Dine?” She asked dumbly, not paying attention to the tub he revealed behind a screen as she stared him down even more openly than she had previously. His hair reminded her of a raven, the way some of it whisked out from the nape of his neck.
Muscles were pronounced even through the loose linen shirt he wore, daylight outlining the v shaped torso beneath.
He turned back to her, and squinted briefly before repeating himself. “Yes dine. Or what is it you Americans say? Eat? Very well then, I will eat with you.”
So he left her to her vices. But on Tamir Rahman, once his expression was far from her eyes, passed the tiniest of grins against his lips.
Chapter 2
Once left alone, Karen was able to breath without feeling like her lungs were being crushed. Damn, she wasn’t a little girl anymore, she had to get control over herself, and her libido. Counting down from ten with her eyes closed was the best technique she could think of, outside of being in Tibet.
Semi relaxed, the sweet smell of the bath reminded her of the sweat and grime that coated her clothes and body. And without Tamir’s presence dominating the room, she was able to appreciate its beauty, it was a palace room erected in the middle of the desert. Dark intricate Persian rugs covered the floor and behind his small collapsible desk lay what she guessed was a bed.
His bed.
Sidestepping to the right she glanced back at the closed tent flap, then back to the bed. Soft silken pillows, some embroidered in gold designs, some not were laid in a circle in fuchsia, gold, burgundy and green. The room looked better than most of the hotels she’d stayed in the past six months. And the gentle sway of the white cloth that was her barrier to the harsh conditions outside brought an ethereal quality to the room.
Karen debated whether or not to take the bath. As inviting as it looked, caution warned her it might not be wise to indulge in any hospitality from him. She had no idea what was going on with her friends. Had they been offered baths? Were they even still alive. Exhaling, she banished the thought. Tamir would never be so barbaric, even if he had been, they would have been shot on site and never brought to the camp.
She was forced to except his word that they were ok.
After more internal argument and a frustrated grunt, hygiene one out and she quickly stripped out of her clothes and got into the tub. The water sank into her skin like heated lotion, he’d even had a sponge and soap laid out for her, but she didn’t touch either of them. The rigidity in her back was made worse by her position in the small tub, her thighs pulled in tightly to her stomach, realizing she was completely naked in the middle of no where in a dire situation.
And it wasn’t the possibility of her life ending, no, it was the idea of being attracted to a man who hadn’t the remotest of feelings toward her. She wasn’t even a memory…
Weariness forced her to relax, if she didn’t her spine would have cracked. Resting back against the tub she let the sweet perfumed water infuse itself into her senses, and closing her eyes had the audacity to forget where she was, and dreamed …
Tamir was standing over her, clad informally in a black suit shirt with no tie. His hair was slightly disheveled, windblown by the cooler temperature that came with sunset.
Behind his wide shoulders the tent silhouetted him with orange flame, illuminating his copper skin.
Karen’s whispered sigh lengthened as she stared into astute curious eyes that refused to waver from hers. They appeared deeper now, than they had before, time had not changed him much physically, but perhaps they had emotionally. And she found herself wondering what he’d experienced since she’d been out of his life?
It was the fractiona shift in his gaze that evaporated that thought, and for the next aching breaths raven’s iris’s s intently measured her form; the only thing stopping him from having full view of her body with the heavy soap bubbles wading along the surface of the water. Beneath it, Karen shifted her leg, her body completely not used to a man attempted to devour her by sight. Relaxed posture, with his hands in his pockets Tamir made no move taking in her newly exposed knee as suds cascaded down her shiny skin. “Enjoying your bath?”
Karen almost drowned from her gasp. Shifting erratically in the tub, splashing water over the sides as she realized this was no dream she’d been having.
Though her breasts hadn’t been exposed, she covered them anyway. “What the hell!” Her voice trembled as she spoke. Tamir was leaning down to wipe stray bubbles off the front of his slacks. “Why are you here – in here?” She demanded.
As he straightened, she clenched her hands against her shoulders. The throbbing in the center of her legs almost made her whimper out loud.
“I told you we would be dining together. I had no idea you had fallen asleep.”
Karen pushed her leg back down away from his view. Married man, she reminded herself.
“It appears you have a dilemma.”
“What?” He couldn’t have possibly been reading her thoughts.
“You need to come out of the bath, but you don’t have anything to wear.”
Reaching down he picked up her top and shorts, glancing at her when she made a sound of protest. “Those are my clothes,” she snapped, reaching. “Give them to me.”
“Um, no.”
**
Her throat rumbled, and it appeared she might be willing to fight him for them. Hands clenching either side of the tub she moved to stand. Despite himself, Tamir froze in mid gesture, the suds slipping from her body coincided with his burgeoning erection.
Anticipation receded however, when she thought better of it, and immersed back into the water. He let his teeth clamp shut, hoping his expression wasn’t too revealing as he continued to push her clothes into the bag with a tad more force than necessary.
How foolish could he have been, having a bath made for her? He’d done it as a gesture of kindness, now he realized he should have let her stay in what she had on. Clad in nothing but bubbles and a thin gold necklace, she was new yet familiar. The childhood spirit was still there, but the pulsing undercurrent of feminine sexuality pressed to be recognized.
He hadn’t expected to come back and find her still in the tub, as much as he knew he should have backed away, he didn’t. And just being around her was becoming more dangerous by the second. It was obvious to him, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, that she was unaware of her beauty. The feminine firm contours of her shoulders had the regal elegance of a queen and the flashed swell of her breasts over shifting water forced him to avert his eyes from her more than once.
This was Kari, short, annoying little brat, Kari Wexler.
It couldn’t sober him.
The tight onyx coils that made up her hair glistened and dripped occasionally from water. Had she dunked her entire head in?
He thrust a white towel at her.
Forearm covering her breasts she leaned forward to reach for it. Tamir granted her no leeway by stepping forward, and when their fingertips touched, he felt her tremor before snatching the towel quickly.
Nostrils flaring, he quickly moved behind the screen, closing his eyes as he caught his breath.
So he found himself entering new territory, the feel of her warm wet skin as it touched him sent fire licking over his entire body. It was startling to say the least, exhilarating to say the worst.
The sound of water splashing drew his attention, backing away from the screen he was greeted with the shadowed silhouette of her drying off. First her arms, then her shoulders before making her way down to the gentle swell of her hips.
Tamir stalked to the medium sized chest opposite of him, and yanked out a white robe. To make sure he didn’t touch her again he tossed it over the screen.
“Thanks.” She murmured, snatching it off.
When Karen emerged back into view she wore the robe, having to wrap the sash around her twice before tying it.
“We’re eating on the floor?” She asked, looking at the spread Nidal put out.
“Yes? Is that going to be a problem?”
She shook her head. About to sit she stopped. “Are you going to sit?” She asked.
“Yes, I was attempting to be a gentleman.”
“A gentleman would have given me my clothes.” She murmured.
“I’ll have them washed and returned to you. Now please sit, we need to talk,
Kari.”
Her fingers flexed as she plopped down hard in front of the table, her expression was grim as she grabbed a large chunk of beef and stuffed it into her mouth. “It’s Karen.”
Tamir’s tongue hit the roof of his mouth as he followed suit and sat on a pillow across from her. “I stand corrected, Karen.”
Mild amusement gave way to heated frustration once he got comfortable and realized her mahogany skin tone filtered through his thin robe. He cursed and focused on her eyes, they hadn’t changed much in ten years, and judging from her reaction to hearing her name, she was still a total brat.
“Did you call my father?” Not offering him an upwards glance she continued devouring beef, but he suspected she was far more interested than she was letting on.
“No, but I suspect he’s used to getting calls about his wayward daughter.”
Karen rolled her eyes, pulling her knees up to her chest. “That’s not true.”
“And you didn’t have to destroy my camera Tamir. You know damn well there wasn’t anything on there that would – hurt you or incriminate you or whatever.”
“For your information I did not know who you were until after your camera was destroyed.”
“And that’s supposed to make it better?”
“No, it was merely said to provide you with an explanation; as if I owed you one.”
Karen sucked her teeth, shifting quickly on the pillow she sat up and began eating again, he thought she would bite off one of her own fingers in her haste.
“You think I participate in illegal activities?”
“I don’t care what you participate in.” She snapped, her mouth full. Glancing sharply at him she added, “I just want my friends to be okay.”
“They are fine, as I said before. In fact they were escorted off the camp and back to their hotel hours ago.”
Karen’s chewing slowed and then came to a complete stop. “What?”
“I said-”
“Are you telling me you let them go hours ago? Why wasn’t I allowed to leave too?”
Tamir leaned forward. “Because I was not ready to let you go.”
Chapter Three
Karen ignored the tremor that shook her spine. The direct stare and deeply accented voice of Sheik Tamir Rahman would test a much stronger woman’s resolve. Was she that strong? Usually when she saw a challenge she went after it, to conquer it and any fears or doubts she may have had in the process. But this was different, usually her goals had to do with advancing her career, not advancing on a man.
“The entire world doesn’t revolve around your whims, Tamir.” Remaining cool was her top priority.
His aloof shrug made her temporarily bite her tongue against comments she couldn’t anticipate his reaction to.
“Do you think my dad will be happy about this?”
“What a question.” He murmured.
Grimacing, she spat. “I can’t believe I crossed the Atlantic just to get railroaded by another man that wants to tell me what to do. And you think it’s funny. I’m sure your wife will be equally amused.”
For the first time since sitting Tamir decided to partake in the food. Picking up a healthy strawberry he held it to his lips and studied it briefly before biting down on it, almost to the stem. Karen’s mouth involuntarily followed suit, gaping as his teeth sank into the firm surface of the fruit.
“My wife?” He stated, chewing.
“Yes.” She hissed, wondering how the woman could be an afterthought and hating how her thighs tingled at the sight of his angled jaw working.
“And who would that be?” He asked.
He was perusing the table for his next sample, and for the first time Karen notice his hands held no rings. Tampering her breath she reminded herself that didn’t mean anything.
“The one you left m – Morocco to marry.” Her heart quickened from the almost slip.
“Oh yes – Ina.” He said after a moment, as if he had to search his memory for the incident. “I never married her. I never married anyone actually.”
Karen was lucky for two reasons; Tamir was kind enough not to look at her as he said this; more preoccupied with the strawberries than her reaction, and fate was fortunate enough to stop her vocal cords for working for a full five seconds.
“Why?” Karen almost let her head fall back with that one; the first question that hit her mind, instantly spilled out her mouth.
Tiny laugh lines pressed the corner of his eyes. “Sometimes things happen, sometimes they do not.”
“Yes, but there’s always a reason.”
“Indeed.”
Karen doubted he was as interested in the meal as he appeared to be, but she was starved, and made sure she had her fill before stopping.
“So what was yours?” She ventured to ask. At least fifteen minutes had passed since her first blurted inquiry, but Tamir as she suspected didn’t miss a beat.
“I see you haven’t outgrown your curiosity.”
His eye movements were so subtle, if you weren’t truly watching him you would never know the many nuances they made. But, unfortunately Tamir commanded all of her attention when he was in her presence, even if she pretended he didn’t.
Karen folded back the sleeves on his robe, she’d done it twice and they were still too long. The gesture reminded her in a heated rush it was his robe, the same way it fluttered against her skin was the way it did his. Did he adore its lightness when he wore it, looking every bit the sheik that he was?
“You’ll say anything not to answer me.”
“On the contrary, she married someone else.” Karen studied him but he gave no sign that it bothered him. And she wasn’t sure what to make of it. “It was such a long time ago. I’m surprised you remembered. You were just a little girl back then – spoiled.” He added dryly.
Karen dipped her finger into a decadent chocolate. “It’s better to be a spoiled little girl than a spoiled grown man. Do you do anything out here without a manservant at your beck and call?”
Through half veiled eyes pristine teeth flashed between his lips. “You should mind that tongue of yours, Kari.”
“Or what?” She asked leaning forward, the idea of breaking his cool demeanor intrigued her far too much to let it pass.
She almost forgot her finger was full of chocolate until a gooey gob threatened to hit him robe, holding her hand under it she leaned back, sucking the sweet confection from her finger. “Mmm.”
“Do you always eat like this?” Rich dark brows had gathered over his eyes when she straightened.
Shrugging she answered. “I hang around a lot of guys.”
Tamir said nothing, he reached forward for his glass of Bourbon, tossed it back, hissing at its strong contents before standing. “I am going for a ride.”
Widening eyes following him as she cried, “Where? I wanna go!”
“Not by car, imp, by horse.”
Expression deflating she said. “Oh.” After a second she looked by up at him, imp had been his pet name for her. “D - don’t call me that, Tamir.”
“Or what?” He mocked, walking around the table.
When she realized he was intent to leave, she cursed, scrambling to get up among the folds of robe and uneven surface of the pillows.
She felt like an imp in the robe, it was far too big and too wide for her, but truly, if she had to choose between its soft confines and her tight smelly clothes it would win hands down.
He stood at the open flap, broad back to her, and the cool breeze that wafted in through opening made her feel almost as serene as the bath.
Turning his head slightly he spoke. “You would like to go for a ride with me?”
“Depends, can I get my own horse, or do I have to ride with you?”
Tamir’s sigh stretched his back. “You could not give a simple yes or no.”
“Are you getting your own horse, or is someone going to fetch it for you?”
Nostrils flared in his side profile, and somehow Karen refrained from laughing when he stalked off, leaving deep imprints in the sand with his feet.
Several minutes passed, Karen didn’t venture too far from the tent, anxious to see any of Tamir’s men and what they would have thought upon seeing her in his robe after they’d spent so much time alone together. But she saw no one, it made her wonder if He’d ordered them to stay away from the tent?
He returned, walking a stunning gray Arabian horse that made Karen’s breath catch. “God.”
He stopped in front of her with the animal, stroking its main. “Oh,” she cooed, what’s his name?”
“He has no name. I just acquired him yesterday from a Bedouin tribesmen.”
“Do I want to know what you paid?”
He shook his head quickly.
“As you can see, there is only one, so yes you will be riding with me. “ Karen shoulders slumped as he continued. “Consider it punishment for your snappy tongue.”
“I do.” She grimaced.
Tamir gracefully mounted the gentle horse first, and offered his hand to her to help her up. Karen stepped forward and accepted his grip, ignoring the conscience that was saying what a bad idea this whole thing was. With one foot in the stirrup he tugged on her and she was sidesaddle, on the horse in front of him.
The combination of height adjustment and being shoulder to hard chest with him made her clamp her mouth shut. Legs dangling off the side she tried to adjust herself on the animal’s bare back. The process caused her to lean into him three times, smelling what could have been faint cologne or his natural scent. Regardless the cool breezes soon turned to flames in her lungs.
“I – don’t think this is going to work.”
“Why not?” The sound of his voice vibrated against her shoulders, the awareness of the large solid texture of his frame forced her knees together.
“This isn’t comfortable to me. I’m sorry. If you start to move, I’m going to fall.”
That statement carried two meanings.
“I would not let you fall Karen.” He tried to offer assurance to her by grabbing her hips, a process that pulled her closer to him, a process that did not assure her. “You need to open your legs.”
Karen was sure she hadn’t heard him correctly. Tamir’s arm was wrapped around her back, his hand rested on her thigh. “To ride astride, you will gain balance and not be afraid.”
He was right, she’d ridden horses before and should have known that. All thoughts had evaporated when her body pressed against his.
Closing her eyes briefly, Karen turned on the horse, her shoulder’s pushed back against his chest. White () fell back exposing her mahogany leg all the way down to her thighs, quickly she dropped it down over the other side, allowing the fabric to fall back into place. Sitting up she swallowed, glad he couldn’t see the lost dear expression her features rendered.
Her back tingled where she touched him, like an electric current, slowly winding its way through her blood.
Outstretched before her was the barren sand of the Sahara. The sky that met it a surreal deep blue, the retreating sun on the other side of the horizon at their back, for a moment all she could do was stare in awe at the beauty of it.
They rode at a steady pace over the sand dunes, Karen didn’t know what was more intense; the spectacular contrasts of red and dark blue or the friction of her back hitting Tamir’s chest each time the horse galloped.
They stopped in a small valley, she wasn’t even sure how long they’d ridden.
Tamir helped her off the animal, to stand in front of him. “W-what are we doing out here?”
“Taking a rest before we return.” The wind had pushed shiny locks of his hair to the side and she was tempted with unexpected urgency to run her fingers through it.
“Do you do this often?” She asked, when he backed away from her.
“When I can.” He answered softly. “Which isn’t often enough. It would be easy for you to think I’m spoiled.” He added. “Many men rely on me from day to day. I can not do what I want, when I would like to. The only person you have to look after is yourself, and you are not doing much of a job at that.”
Feet mingling in the heated sand Karen shook her head. “You make it seem like you were never young. Have you always made the right choices, each and every time? You don’t even know a thing about me, or what I’ve done in the past ten years. I don’t remember you being such a condescending old … fuddy duddy.”
His expression ranged from blank to confusion in a matter of seconds. “Old?” He gasped. “What is this fuddy duddy you are talking about?”
Folding her arms she didn’t answer, content with letting him stew. She hated the fact that it hadn’t even occurred to her that the manservant she so quickly belittled must have respected Tamir a great deal, and that he most likely done so with great reason.
“We shall bet.” Breeze caught his voice on the air as he walked. He stooped, and leaned over kicking off his shoes. “We will run a hundred paces. If you arrive at my horse first, I will let you go.”
“What?” She stared at him as he bent over to remove his socks.
“I believe you heard what was said.”
Cautiously moving toward him she said. “So what happens if I lose?”
“I would advise you not to lose.”
Undeniable challenge lay in his tone, and Karen couldn’t deny her interest had been piqued. “I hardly think this is fair. You’re taller than me, which means you have longer legs. “
“Yes,” He said, taking off his jacket and carelessly tossing it in the sand. “And you are lighter I, so we both have disadvantages.”
Standing next to him she mentally weighed her chances while voicing how absurd the challenge was.
Tamir’s answer was to draw a line in the sand with his foot. “If it makes you feel better, I will leave on my shirt, surely it will provide some wind resistance.”
Karen pretended she didn’t notice the way the luxurious button down shirt framed his well muscled shoulders, a thin gold chain he wore glinted in the sun. “I want a ten second head start.”
Pursing his lips he said. “Now who is being absurd? You will be at the horse well before then and you know this.”
“What are we doing? ‘On your mark, get set’?”
“As you wish.”
“Who’s going to say it?”
“I will.”
“W-”
“If you keep testing me I will name a stipulation for your loss.” He ground out.
“Now get your tail behind the line.”
Huffing, she did as she was told, and after a silly ceremonious silence he began.
“On your mark, get set … GO!”
Muscling as much stealth as she could, Karen hustled over the hard uneven sand. She couldn’t recall herself running so fast since she was a kid. Well, maybe she was still a kid to him, but she resigned to keep her eyes on the Arabian, because if she dared look across from her she would most certainly lose.
In the closing seconds, she wondered if he was still a man of his word, if she beat him, that meant he would let her go. And then what? She would rejoin her friends, like none of this had never happened, they would go on, and this would all be another memory, just like watching his back as he strode out of her life …
Karen stumbled slightly, and he next thing she knew Tamir touched the horse.
Both hunched over, out of breath.
“That was interesting.” Tamir panted. “We have not done that in quite a while.”
“Well,” Karen said between breaths. “I lost, what happens now?
The silence between them was penetrated by wind that stretched over miles of desert around them. Such a desolate place should have felt barren and isolated, but it didn’t. To Karen it was the greatest place in the world to be, and he was the perfect man. Too bad he looked at her as no more than a child.
