CHAPTER ELEVEN
She had seen him at the pool, and he knew it.
Ahmed walked slowly past the entrance to Gemma's tent. He was still naked. His skin felt cool in the night air.
Yes.
She'd seen him like this, and, truthfully, he had enjoyed it.
Even as he'd been swimming in the pool, he'd become aware of her presence, barely visible in the dark shadow of the tent's corner.
He could imagine how she had felt as she'd watched him from there, hiding in the darkness, no doubt savoring the sight of him naked as he emerged from the pool.
Some part of him had wanted to play that game, teasing her, showing himself to her. He'd seen the way she'd looked at him in the hotel.
Also, down at the village and when they had arrived at the encampment. There, her glances had been filled with approval, with appreciation.
He knew that and the incident, just now, at the pool had given him a chance to capitalize on that understanding.
He'd found the whole experience vaguely arousing, if he was being honest with himself. And when he'd turned to face her, showing himself completely to her, he'd felt a stirring in his loins that had threatened to bring him to a fully aroused state.
He wondered what would have happened if his desire had gotten the better of him. Because that desire had almost turned a casual game into a burning need.
He'd almost gone right over there and pulled her out of the shadows and embraced her, crushing her against his nakedness.
But, he'd managed to restrain himself.
Just.
And now she was back in the safety of her bed. But this time he was sure her mind would be filled with thoughts of what she'd just seen. His mind most certainly was.
He went back into his own tent and dried himself with a towel. As he did so, he was tortured by the thought that she was in the next tent.
So close and yet so far away.
Heat flared in him as he thought of her lying in the bed, her own desire aroused by the sight of his nakedness.
He wondered why she had done such a thing. What had tempted her to venture out into the night and take a chance like that?
Had she taken pleasure out of watching him? He assumed she had done. She would not have lingered so long if she hadn't.
So, what did that tell him about her?
Simply that his suspicions had been confirmed. She was attracted to him, even if she tried to deny it.
He felt the tension in his body, felt himself harden, just at the thought of Gemma's sweet, warm body crushed against his.
Ahmed dragged in a deep breath, realizing that by bringing her here, he'd inadvertently set himself up for torture during the coming day and night.
Exquisite torture, he told himself.
That was, of course, assuming she would stay. Perhaps, tomorrow, when she awoke, she would see the madness of her decision to come her with him. Maybe seeing him naked like that might make her want to run from him as fast as she could.
But, he didn't think that likely.
Why?
He smiled as he thought, once again, of the way she had chosen to wait in the shadows, watching him.
No. Gemma wasn't going to demand that he take her home. On the contrary, she might now be tempted to remain, just to see how this dangerous and tempting situation would develop.
And he was quite happy with that.
More than happy, in fact. It was exactly what he wanted.
He did not want to take her back to the village, to the safety of her car. He wanted her to stay. Because, as he'd stood there, by the side of the pool, he'd felt a glowing desire burst into life, a desperate need for her, and he wasn't about to give up.
Not this easily. Not now that she was here.
Of course, if she demanded that he take her back to the village, he would. He was determined to behave with honor in everything to do with this extraordinary woman.
But he doubted she would make such a demand.
Temptation had been ignited, and the flame would not be extinguished quite so easily, he told himself.
He lay down on the carpeted floor with cushions at his head. He was used to sleeping on hard floors, and within a few minutes he was falling into a deep sleep.
Images of Gemma filled his mind as he drifted into darkness.
HE AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING and immediately attended to food. There was a small storage unit in one corner of the tent. This was replenished by the visiting tribesmen. They kept it stocked with basic foods, mostly dried fruits and meats, along with a variety of desert food that would keep safely.
He knew it wasn't what she would be used to, but it would be enough.
There was also a large container with fresh water. They'd have all they needed for a spartan breakfast. Before he'd found her in her car the night before, Ahmed had arranged for some locals to deliver supplies of fresh food to the camp. He anticipated they would arrive later that morning.
But, for now, this simple breakfast would be their first shared meal.
He wondered how many other first things they might share while she was here with him.
He went outside. It was a beautiful morning, the sun shining low in the sky. The air was cool and fresh, not yet heated by the sun. It was going to be a fine day.
He had a notion to try and spend as much time with Gemma as he could. He wanted to get to know her, needed to find out more about her life, her history and what she truly believed.
Getting to know her wouldn't be anything like getting to know the other women in his past. She was the first American woman he'd really been attracted to, and he was curious. There was so much that was new and fresh about her.
He thought about last night. Although it might seem like a dream to Gemma on awakening, as far as he was concerned last night had been a welcome taste of the kind of reality he could expect with her. What he'd done had been crazy, even impulsive.
But, he'd enjoyed it.
Enjoyed allowing her a taste of himself, of what he had to offer.
He'd slept peacefully, and dreamt of her, of the desert, of them together.
Ahmed laid out the breakfast food on small plates upon a low table which he brought out from the tent. He placed two glasses of cool water next to the plates and regarded his handiwork.
He nodded with approval and then gazed out across the valley of dunes which stretched off into the distance.
This would be new for him. Sharing food with a beautiful newcomer on such a lovely morning would be a real pleasure. He hoped it would be as much of a pleasure for Gemma.
He was just finishing when she emerged from her tent. She was rubbing sleep from her eyes, and she was wearing the same light gown she'd worn yesterday.
Ahmed stood a moment, just looking at her, taking in the sight of her astonishing beauty. She looked amazing, even with dishevelled hair, and with a slightly paler than usual complexion. If he wasn't mistaken, hers was the face of someone who hadn't slept well these past few hours.
But she still looked amazing. His heart quickened just at the sight of her. Simply looking at her, he felt younger than his thirty years. And she looked younger than her early twenties.
"Good morning," he called out.
She peered at him, squinting in the early morning light. "Good morning," she groaned.
He loved how her voice sounded, heavy with sleep, slightly lower than usual. Almost husky. It made something stir inside him, and he did nothing to battle the sensation. He was going to enjoy every single moment of the coming day.
She yawned and he smiled on seeing her do that. It was going to take her a while to wake up, he reflected.
Gemma came over to him, walking barefoot on the sand. He glanced approvingly at her small feet, at her even toes, at the way she padded carefully toward him. She looked smaller somehow, and he realized it was probably being barefoot that enhanced the impression of smallness.
One word came to mind as he watched her.
Perfect.
Gemma halted beside him and peered down at the low table. "What's that?" she said pointing at the food.
"Breakfast."
She squinted at him. "You're not serious," she muttered.
He nodded. "That's all we've got."
"Are you trying to starve me?"
He glanced down the length of her body. "I'd never do such a thing. There's no need."
She tilted her head at him and pursed her lips. He loved the way her lips curled into that cute shape. He realized this was the first time he'd seen her in broad daylight. Their previous encounters had all been in the dark of night.
Now, with her looking at him in the early morning light, he realized he'd underestimated her natural beauty.
She wore no makeup, but somehow that only made her more pretty, more alluring. He cleared his throat, realizing she'd probably noticed how he was looking at her with such approval.
He gestured to two cushions he'd placed at the side of the table. "Have a seat," he said.
She plopped down onto the cushion. Her movement gave him a chance to see the curves of her body as she sat down. He loved the easy way she moved, how she crossed her legs effortlessly beneath herself.
She glanced up at him, as if waiting for him to sit next to her. He did just that.
They both helped themselves to the food and were silent for a few minutes while they ate.
Finally he glanced at her. "What are your plans for the day?" he asked.
She looked surprised by the question. She gazed around the encampment and frowned. "I think my options are a bit limited. Don't you think?" she joked.
He smiled and she rolled her eyes. "Just joking. I'm really grateful you let me come here," she stated.
He shook his head. "There's no need to be grateful. The pleasure is all mine. I can assure you."
Her eyes narrowed and she was silent for a while, eating slowly and thoughtfully. Was she thinking about last night?
He wondered if she was able to forget seeing him like that. Whether it would prompt her to do something in response. Perhaps even avoid him.
So far, there had been no sign of awkwardness in her manner toward him. She'd met his gaze with the same direct response she'd done every time they'd been with each other.
He was already beginning to feel that he'd known her a long time, even though it had been barely forty-eight hours.
"You must tell me more about yourself," he probed.
Immediately he saw her body stiffen. She smiled at him, obviously trying to mask her reaction. "Why?"
He shrugged. "I'd love to hear about your life back in the States." He saw her brows furrow imperceptibly. "But, if you don't want to, I understand," he added quickly.
She shook her head. "No, it's fine. Just that I wouldn't know where to start. I mean my whole life is pretty public as it is," she explained.
"I don't spend a whole lot of time online. Especially in the places where you would be found," he said.
"But, I thought you own a media company, like Rashid."
He shook his head. "His company isn't quite like mine," he said slowly.
"In what way?"
"It's hard to explain," he said. "Let's just say that Rashid's idea of a Qazhar media company has never been the same as mine."
She bit into some dried fruit and gazed at him. He could see she was thinking what to ask next.
How much should he tell her? He thought about that for a few moments and concluded that out here, in this wilderness, the only real option was total honesty.
Especially if he wanted to win her over to his way of seeing things. He figured that was part of the reason she'd come here in the first place. To see things from a different perspective. To see him in a new light. Well, maybe last night she had done just that, he told himself.
"Rashid is interested in different things than I am," he said. He saw she was suddenly curious. "He brought you to Qazhar because he thought you would be perfect for portraying the kingdom to the outside world. Rashid is outward looking. He's interested in showing the whole world how modern Qazhar can be."
"What's wrong with that?" she asked.
"Nothing," he replied. "If that's what he wants, then he's free to go for it."
"And you?" she asked. "What about you?"
"My ideas are slightly different from his. I want my company to focus on the best of Qazhar. Its traditions. Its past. What it should try to hold onto."
She looked suddenly tense. "And you don't think someone like me would fit into that?"
"That's not what I meant," he replied abruptly. "I just meant that he and I have different objectives in life."
She was silent for a while, and he wondered if he'd insulted her with what he'd said.
He watched her eating, taking a curious pleasure from seeing the way she held her food, the way she ate it slowly, methodically.
She seemed lost in thought for a while. Then she turned to him. "Tell me about your family," she said.
"What about them?"
"How many of you are there?"
"I have two brothers and one sister. And lots of cousins," he added with a grin. "My parents are still happy and healthy and living out in the palace to the west of the city."
She laughed.
"What?" he asked.
"The way you said that, it sounded funny."
He looked quizzically at her, seeking more.
"The palace," she explained. "You made it sound so matter-of-fact. So casual."
"It's where I grew up. It's what I am accustomed to."
"I know. It just sounded so strange to me that living in a palace would be no big deal. I'd have given anything to grow up like that."
She'd created the opening for him, so he moved quickly into it, asking: "Where did you grow up?"
She narrowed her eyes at him and paused. He wondered if he'd been too hasty in asking her for more.
But then she shrugged. "Where did I grow up?" She looked up at the sky. "Let me see. There was that foster home when I was ten. There there was that other foster family when I was a teenager."
She glanced at him with a mocking look on her face. "That didn't work out too well."
He kept his features blank and impassive, wanting her to continue.
"And then there were my times with friends, sleeping on other people's sofas." She squinted at him. "Sofa surfing. You've heard of that, right?"
He frowned at her.
"I didn't think so," she added quickly. "I don't imagine much sofa surfing goes on in Qazhar. Especially at your level of wealth."
She stopped talking suddenly, perhaps aware that she had said too much, too quickly. He didn't know what to say, at first.
Of course, he'd read some of the things about her, about the hardship she'd endured. That had been part of her success story, of course.
But, somehow listening to her telling him all about it, here in his private domain, it all sounded so brutal, so harsh
So unfair.
Surely she hadn't done anything to deserve that much hardship. He was suddenly filled with a renewed admiration for just how far she had come.
He could only imagine how hard it must have been for her. The loneliness. Probably also the cruelty of others towards an orphaned child trying to make the best of a terrible misfortune.
"And your parents?" he found himself asking quietly, with as delicate a tone of voice as he could muster.
"What about them?" she said. There was a sadness as well as a harshness in her voice, now. Maybe she didn't want to tell him any more.
"I presume it all happened when you were young."
He heard her draw in a deep breath and let it out with a heavy sigh. "It's a long story," she said.
It sounded as if she wanted to cut this conversation short, he told himself.
He turned his attention back to his food. They were both silent again for a few minutes.
Then, she wiped her hands and stood quickly. "I think I'll take some air, if that's okay."
It was all the confirmation he'd needed. He had offended her by probing for more information. Details she probably would have preferred keeping private. He cursed himself for his foolishness.
He stood up and faced her. He nodded. "Of course. Just don't wander off," he advised.
She looked incredulously around her and smirked. "I don't think there's much chance of me wandering off," she said. "Beside, you know I don't ride a horse. Where am I going to go?"
Then she did something which made him feel a sudden tension in his middle, a instant reaction, just like the ones earlier.
Gemma placed a hand on her hip and twisted slightly to one side, showing him her curves, giving him a hint of the promise contained in them. He felt his throat tighten.
"After all, I'm kinda your prisoner, here," she announced with a mischievous tone. Her gaze fixed on him she added: "Aren't I?"
Once again he felt a throbbing sensation, hard and insistent. He wondered if she was playing with him, teasing him.
Was it merely some kind of defense against the privacy he'd breached? Was that how she had always kept the men in her life at bay? By making fun of them?
He decided to test that statement. He took a step toward her. When he spoke he made sure his voice was low and his tone deadly serious. "You're only a captive here if you choose to be," he growled. Then he gazed at her, challenge in his eyes.
She met his gaze, defiant and sure. There wasn't a flicker of doubt in her eyes as she stared back at him.
"Captive?" she whispered.
The way she said that one simple word made heat flare in him, triggered a furious quickening of his pulse. His heart was racing with sudden, urgent need. He was sure his features had flushed, sure that his mouth had curled at the corners into an appreciative smile.
Right now, he wanted to reach out and touch her. No, he wanted more than that. He wanted to crush her soft curves against his body; wanted to satisfy this instant need by crushing his lips against hers, tasting her, devouring her.
For a moment they both looked at one another, an understanding passing between them both. He saw one of her brows arch slightly.
She wanted him, but she was waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe it had something to do with what had happened last night, he reflected.
Was this the time? He drew in a breath trying to calm his raging emotion.
No. This wasn't the time. Not yet.
He turned away from her and gathered his composure. When he looked back at her, he saw she was already beginning to walk slowly away from him.