They walked back to the boat without speaking as though something of the silence, the immensity of the desert itself, had found its way into their hearts.
Chapter 7
When they reached the boat, the temperature hadn’t dropped, as Phares had predicted, and there was no whisper of a breeze. For Aida, the air felt uncannily warm, almost fiery against her cheek. She undid the first button of her dress and, dipping her handkerchief in the water, passed it over her throat and her upper chest to refresh herself.
‘It’s so hot,’ she whispered, fanning herself with a small fan she always kept in her bag.
‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to wait for a while before we leave. There’s no wind and I wouldn’t like us to be stranded in the middle of the river.’
He pulled out the cool bag from under the bench and took out the two bottles of wine and a few kahk, round cakes made with semolina, stuffed with ground dates and nuts. He grinned. ‘This will keep us out of trouble for a while. It might be a long night.’
The silence around them was profound, broken only by the echo of a distant laughing bark of a hyena or the wail of a jackal. Aida’s senses, keyed up by Phares, her encounter with the gypsies and the fortune teller’s words, were almost preternaturally acute. She felt unnaturally vital and awake, intensely aware of Phares’s presence beside her in the boat. Even in the darkness she sensed his jet-black eyes brooding disturbingly. She saw the lines of his mouth, that charming mouth which so many women found attractive, and felt in every pulse a most unusual excitement which, though almost oppressive, was yet bewilderingly sweet.
Phares poured them both a glass of wine and offered her a cake before lighting a cigarette. He leaned back against the cushions, regarding her between his long, thick lashes. Aida’s eyes met his and she saw a glittering curiosity in them, a desire to probe into her reserve.
‘You look pensive and very beautiful.’
She gave a half smile. ‘I was just thinking that those fortune tellers are quite a dangerous species.’
‘Oh? Why is that?’
She shrugged. ‘Well, they put things into one’s head … you know.’
A glimmer of rueful amusement leapt into his eyes.
‘Because she guessed you are in love with me?’
Aida gave him a startled look. ‘I’m not.’
‘You might be without knowing it.’ He leant towards her, his eyes slipping to her mouth, to her throat and to the front of her dress that revealed part of the curve of one breast.
‘There’s more to love than … than liking the look of someone,’ Aida replied sharply, reading the innuendo in his question. She had no doubt that Phares was well aware of her attraction to him.
‘True,’ he chuckled, ‘but it starts the ball rolling.’
‘Anyway, how do you know what she was saying? I should have thought you hardly noticed me.’ Her pulse was beating madly because he had noticed. ‘You seemed far too enthralled.’
‘It’s said of the Pharaony men that they can be absorbed in the sensual beauty of a woman and work out the details of a business deal at one and the same time. We do it like breathing, didn’t you know that?’ He raised a quizzical eyebrow and drew in a deep intake of smoke. ‘You think there was something significant in the way I watched the ghazeya dance?’
‘Wasn’t there?’ she challenged him. ‘You looked totally captivated.’
‘She was very beautiful, but it is not her that captivates me, chérie. She didn’t move me one bit in the way you think … in the way you have, ever since you’ve come back into my life.’
Aida was slightly embarrassed beneath his penetrating gaze, with an intense feeling that many things between herself and Phares would be better left unsaid. Her heart was beating with a primitive longing as his scrutiny burned into her like a hot poker, thrusting her into a new world of conflicting emotions. She didn’t answer, but at the same time could not turn away from him.
Silence settled between them as it had done so often during their walk earlier. Although he did not speak as he considered her through the blue veil of smoke spiralling up from his cigarette, Aida understood the message in his narrowed eyes as clearly as though he had drawn her into his arms and was kissing her.
They sipped their wine for a while. The alcohol was having a beneficial effect on Aida, and she felt herself relaxing, a sense of wellbeing flooding her. Phares filled their glasses again, then lounged among the cushions, spreading his arms along the back of the seat.
‘Such a night!’ he whispered, his head thrown back as though in pagan worship of the stars, which were so brilliant above the river.
The moon tiptoed stealthily from behind a weeping willow tree like a flirtatious nymph and bathed the countryside with its mischievous light. Aida was taken by the charm of the moonlit Nile at this hour, its shining surface reflecting the willow and the softened shimmer of the countryside. Every distant sound seemed musical and the air was tangy with the earth and foliage, which had been sun-drenched all day. Nature was tranced and the world enveloped in a dream.
‘Come sit next to me,’ Phares said at length, eyes sparkling with devilry. Beneath his black brows they had the intensity of ebony, and their language was plain.
Aida’s body was rigid with tension. She met his gaze with a show of bravery. ‘No.’
‘No?’ he purred, his voice low and hoarse. He drained his wine in one go and put his glass aside. He leaned back against the cushions and she could see the outline of his virility against his tight jeans.
‘No,’ she murmured again, but could feel how her body betrayed her resolution as he suddenly moved close to her and placed his hand on her arm, eyes smouldering. She wanted to turn away, but like someone in a dream she couldn’t break the spell that held her there. Her head felt light. It’s the wine, she thought. She could feel the warm pulsating energy in him that wouldn’t be reined in for much longer, not if she allowed him to sit this close.
The moon had shifted so its rays now cast soft shadows on Phares’s face, which held a slumberous, sensuous expression. He reached out and ran his fingers over her lips, and she saw the moon agleam in his eyes and felt the instant response of her senses.
Some instinct gave her the strength to tear herself away from him. ‘You’re drunk,’ she said, trying to control the quiver in her voice.
‘And you are trembling, chérie. Why is that?’
‘W-when a man’s been drinking …’ Aida took a breath, forcing out the words, ‘any woman’s fair game, isn’t she?’
‘Is that what it’s all about? You think that at this moment I could lie with any woman? Do you think that I could be fooled by my own biology and that of the woman in front of me, like some ignorant teenage boy?’
‘Oh, you’re very experienced, I’m sure.’ She had to say these things or leave her heart and body – all her senses that were crying out for him – entirely unprotected. Aida was simply a means to an end for him. Phares didn’t love her. He just felt like having her … and once he’d had her, she’d be at his mercy, she and her land!
As if he knew what was going through her mind, Phares’s smile was charm itself and he leaned forward on one elbow. ‘There’s no one like you, chérie. Elfin-blue eyes, fairy-like blonde hair and a mouth an angel might envy. You’re as unique as this carnelian you’re wearing, and I want you, Aida El Masri.’
At the sound of his voice – provocative, musical, caressing – heat shot through her, but the slumbering uneasiness stirred in her heart again and she thought of Nairy and Isis and the rumours that surrounded him.
Still, Phares’s haunting male scent filled her head as he leaned so close. Aida trembled. Although the air had now cooled down, her body felt feverish. His glance whipped at her face with amused challenge.
‘There are many superstitions connected with carnelian, as the ghajareya told you, one of them being a means of warding off the evil eye.’ The moon glided out from behind a passing cloud and his face loomed back ou
t of the darkness. ‘But what she didn’t tell you is the most remarkable claim ever recorded: that of the carnelian not only having the ability to protect one from impure thoughts but also the power to … how does the phrase go … erase the pain of “virgin purity by lust defiled”.’
Aida edged a little away from him, hiding her nervousness behind a flippant reply. ‘Fortunately, right at this moment I’m not likely to suffer either of those ailments, so I have no use for any such talisman.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ he countered, a quick lick of flame in his eyes. ‘You’re fully aware of my needs.’
‘I’m sure!’ She looked down, her heart thumping, resenting the ease with which he could set her pulses racing.
‘And I’m fully aware of yours.’
For a moment she stared back at him, like a gauzy moth infatuated with a flame, and he turned away, his profile without expression, aloof, for all its splendid dark arrogance. Then abruptly, still looking ahead of him, he raked a hand through his hair and said roughly, ‘I can’t take any more of this. If we have to start from scratch, then we’ll do it, but I’m not going to believe you felt nothing at all when I kissed you the other night. It was real for both of us, I’ll swear to that.’ He turned to look at her, saw the stunned blue eyes and stopped right there, his own expression altering.
For a moment neither of them moved, then he sat up and pulled her into his arms, his hand threading into her hair, finding her mouth with an urgency which jolted Aida out of her stupor. She was instinctively swept away … this longing and need to touch and be touched … this voice inside her that was screaming yes, yes, yes to the sweet, primitive hurting and giving until there was nothing … nothing but Phares and being part of the wild, throbbing heart of him.
There were questions to be asked and to be answered, but for now they could wait. The spark he struck on touching her was bright and hot, flaring immediately into a flame of desire like nothing she had ever experienced before in her life. For Aida, all that mattered now was the feel of this man’s muscular chest against her, of his lips on hers, of the warmth and pleasure spreading through her like sunlight pushing back the shadows.
Phares’s hands dropped to her shoulders and trailed slowly down her arms, transmitting a new need to touch that shivered through Aida’s skin. His eyes were locked on to hers, compelling her acceptance. She saw the conflict rage in them, felt the tension of his fiercely imposed control. The powerful strength of his desire stirred a turbulent storm inside her head, swimming with the intoxication of his caress.
Yes, she wanted him … all of him, and now. He knew. The knowledge blazed in his eyes. He said nothing, neither did she. There was no need for words anyway. And then, gently, he began to unbutton her dress. There could be no going back to whatever their relationship had been before.
In a flash, Phares had pulled the cushions off the seats and on to the floor and had pushed Aida back gently so she was lying in front of him. He didn’t lie down next to her but slowly edged the fabric of her dress away, slipping it off her shoulders to expose her body. She watched him stare down at her, as though stunned. The primeval, almost savage, look in his eyes ignited every wanton flame in her veins.
‘You are beautiful, Aida … made of pearl and moonbeams,’ he whispered huskily, his gaze hot upon her. ‘A mesmerising masterpiece of our creator.’ Drawing a ragged breath, he brushed her skin lightly from top to bottom with a trembling hand before tracing his palm over the curve of her breasts. ‘Under the stars, your skin is as mysterious as the covering of a waterlily bud.’
Aida sighed and a shudder rippled through her as her breasts tightened and she felt her nipples jutting high and taut. His burning gaze never leaving her face, he faintly circled one aureole with a finger and then the other, in a maddening, leisurely fashion.
A strangled cry escaped Aida’s lips, her gaze watching his caressing hand, expressing in equal measure strength and grace and a certain violence held in check.
‘Is this what you want?’ he murmured as he dropped his head to take one hard crest in his mouth in a blind movement of longing. Her breath sucked in and she closed her eyes to savour the ecstasy of his gentle torture, arching her back needily against his mouth.
‘You want more, chérie?’ He moved to the other peak and now drew hungrily on it in a rhythm that echoed inside her body. Licking and biting, tugging and rolling, he teased almost savagely, kneading the other breast with just as much relentless torment, the moan in her throat urging him on, craving the pain and the pleasure he was giving her.
Aida could feel the hardness of his desire throbbing against her. ‘I want to please you too,’ she whispered suddenly, as her fingers buried themselves in the crisp thickness of the dark curls of his hair.
Phares looked up. ‘Shush, chérie, you are pleasing me more than you think. The night is long.’ His voice was hoarse, his eyes glittering, almost feverish. Discarding his shirt in one swift movement, he lay beside her and covered her lips with his, his warm hands now roaming caressingly over each curve of her body. His lips moved probingly against hers, the tip of his tongue moving sensually around its groove, flicking in and out slowly, sending heat coursing through her veins. Aida’s head swam with the intoxication of his kisses. Needing more of him, her hands moved to find the front of his trousers and, zipping them open, she slid her fingers into the heat of his virility and sensually fondled the silken skin of his masculinity. Phares caught his breath and moaned, before dipping into the velvet darkness of her mouth.
No more playful kisses: he let loose the rapacious craving he had so clearly struggled against. His mouth seemed to explode into hers with a hungry passion, wild for the taste of her, demanding a response that matched his need.
This was no mere melding of mouths. It was a fierce claim on all that she was, a driving, heart-pounding, unbridled search for what was, and what could be, between them, a giving and taking that sent streams of exultation bursting through her.
Aida’s heart was racing so that she could scarcely catch her breath. Everything inside her was mounting to a crescendo and she responded to this new urgency as if hypnotised. Consumed by the flame of desire, she became the flame herself, instinctively using her lips, her hands, her whole body to express her passion and to increase Phares’s arousal.
At length, he lifted his head, staring down into her face. ‘Let me feel you.’ His voice was low and husky as he let his palm slide down her flat stomach to her mound of Venus.
A frisson crawled up her spine, part dread, part her body’s traitorous response to the anticipation of him touching her so intimately. ‘No, no, not there,’ she pleaded.
‘Relax, chérie. I won’t hurt you, I promise. On the contrary, I’ll make you see the sun at midnight in a dark sky without stars.’
‘No,’ she whispered again, even though she could feel the scorching fire pulsing between her legs. Somehow, talking about it seemed to kindle her need.
‘I can’t resist anymore,’ he breathed unevenly, his mouth brushing against her temple. ‘I’m dying for you.’
‘Don’t say that … please.’ It was wrong and yet here in the golden blaze of the moonlight it was inevitable. A night made for love, except … oh, she couldn’t think anymore, she wanted so much for him to touch her … appease the fire that was torturing her.
‘Have you never been touched there?’
‘Never.’ Aida’s throat constricted, but she forced out the words. ‘Once, a few years ago, I got carried away at a New Year’s Eve party and the young man I was dating that night tried to touch me, but he disgusted me and I pushed him away and fled.’
‘You never touched yourself, never tried to pleasure your lonely nights?’
She looked horrified. ‘Never.’
He gave a shaky laugh as though bemused by what was happening. ‘Oh, Aida, my beautiful pearl. Let me show you how your body can reward you when you let go. I will go very slowly and only if you want me to.’
Aida fel
t fear and shyness invade her as she looked at him so big and dark under the silvery moon, his black hair disordered on his brow and a slight quirk to his mouth.
Phares arranged her with a care as tender as it was teasing. She went to stroke him once again and gently he removed her hand from his throbbing need. ‘I’m burning for you, chérie, and it’s better if you don’t touch me or you’ll soon make me lose all control.’
‘But I want to feel you …’
‘Shush, trust me. Lie back and relax. You will enjoy it, I promise.’
Phares pushed up her knees, to find the small lacy triangle that covered the most intimate core of her, and she stared into his soul-stealing eyes. Shame filled her, yet she could not silence the ache for his touch burning through her and the yearning to submit to it. Deft fingers caressed the damp fabric and she moaned as she spread her legs wider instinctively, unconsciously asking for more.
‘You’re so damp, I can feel how much you want me … let me caress you, chérie.’ His voice was hoarse and low, charged with pent-up desire. But Aida was beyond listening. His words were coming to her through a mist of sensations as he eased the lace panties down over her hips and stroked her legs apart, caressing the inside of her thighs, his warm palm making her shudder and give in to the ecstasy gradually creeping up her body.
She gasped at the contrasting contact of cool air on her burning flesh and followed it with a stunned cry of pleasure as Phares’s cool fingers gently parted the outer tender lips, uncovering the small bud of her desire lying like a lustrous pearl at the centre of a pink oyster, waiting to be loved.
Aida heard him stifle a gasp. ‘You are so wondrously beautiful,’ he whispered.
At his words, she felt a renewed wave of heat and moisture invade her loins and she opened her legs wider to give Phares free access to stroke her swollen centre, arching her back, moving the lower part of her body up and down in a rhythmic cadence, inviting him to release the tension that was building up to an unbearable torture.
Song of the Nile Page 26
