by Cara Albany
Ahmed thought about how he could make everything up to her. He thought about the arrival of the food from the town. He'd arranged some special food to be brought up by some of his trusted locals. He knew the food would be delicious.
Ahmed planned to erect a rudimentary spit and cook some fresh meat. There would be fresh vegetables and many of the local side dishes. Some drink, too. Everything would be local and unique. He hoped Gemma would be excited with the planned meal.
It would be her first experience of true desert eating. She'd get to see how well someone could live out here.
Perhaps it might even rid her of some of her misperceptions about this kind of life. The same misperceptions that had prompted her to snap photos as if she was in some kind of exotic tourist spot.
But, he couldn't really blame her. All of this must seem so alien, so unbelievably different. She couldn't be expected to adjust to this in a single day.
A thought flickered own his mind.
Would it be possible for Gemma to become a Qazhar woman?
His Qazhar woman?
That thought made him pause. He hadn't thought of her in those terms before. Everything was moving so fast. For both of them, it seemed.
But, now that he'd gotten to know her even more, now that he'd seen her in this place, dressed in local clothing, the idea didn't seem to impossible. She seemed to be fighting a growing curiosity about life here, he told himself.
There would be only one way he would ever find out.
His attraction toward Gemma was real. It was vital and undeniable. He wasn't prepared to pretend that attraction didn't exist. That would be simply foolish.
The connection between them was being forged with every passing moment; with every word spoken; with every glance exchanged.
And now with every touch.
No.
She was here now, and he would have to seize his chance.
Or he might regret it for a very long time.
GEMMA SPENT THE DAY MUCH AS SHE'D SPENT the morning. She relaxed around the camp, breathing in the peace of the place. She noticed that Ahmed kept well away from her the whole time. He was obviously determined to keep his promise.
From time to time throughout the day they would pass one another. He would glance at her and smile warmly, but keep moving, never pausing to talk to her.
For her part, there were instances when she'd wanted to stop and talk with him. But every time the impulse came to her, she resisted it. The memory of their disagreement was too fresh in her mind.
Later in the afternoon she decided she'd take a nap. She still wasn't used to the heat of the day out in the desert. Inside the tent was the only place she could feel comfortable.
The only problem was, the solitude she'd told herself she so badly needed, simply gave her more time to think about Ahmed.
And that wasn't what she wanted.
Not at all.
But as she turned from side to side on the bed, she couldn't help thinking about him. About the way he'd looked at her this morning. About some of the things he'd said to her.
It was clear to her that Ahmed was taking her stay in the camp very seriously. He was doing everything he could to make her feel at home.
And, in spite of her initial reservations, she was beginning to feel comfortable in the camp. Not that she had any intention of staying more than another day or two.
In fact, the more she thought about her and Ahmed's exchange this morning, the more she'd come to the conclusion that it might be better for them both if she cut short her stay.
Maybe even leave later that day, before nightfall. She was sure that if she asked him to take her back to the village, he'd be truly disappointed.
There was nothing she could do about that. He'd understood right from the outset that she only intended for this to be a short stay.
But then there had been the way he'd touched her this morning.
She thought about that for a long moment, savoring the details of the memory.
The way he'd lingered over that touch. The way he'd curled his fingers around her arms, holding her gently.
And his dark gaze had been seductive and powerful. Too intense, really, she told herself. It had almost made her lose her breath for a moment.
There was no doubt Ahmed was beginning to feel something strong for Gemma. She knew that, and in some way it made her feel trepidation. She knew where something like that could lead, and she didn't want that.
Did she?
She ran a hand across the bed, thinking how it would feel to have him lying by her side. Letting him crush her body, pressing his hardness against her.
Everything that would inevitably come from that.
Just thinking about it made her core flame with heat. What was it about this man that had captivated her heart so much? And so quickly.
Was this what people talked about when they spoke of instant attraction?
Instant passion.
What made her hesitant was the simple truth that with Ahmed, if she opened herself up to him, let him in, it would be more than just a surrender. More than just a casual encounter.
She could sense the seriousness of his purpose when it came to her. He wasn't merely toying with her. She was no mere casual fling.
No.
She had the sense that he really wanted her in a more profound way than she could ever have imagined. And that realization made her nervous. She'd never been so close to a man who possessed such animal-like intensity before. She knew that if she submitted to the temptation to be with him, her world might be turned upside down.
Forever.
Once again, she felt nerves tighten at that thought. Was she ready for something like that? Was she ready for a man like Ahmed?
She drifted off to sleep thinking about him. When she awoke sometime later, she wasn't sure exactly when, she could smell the aromas of cooking food. She sat up and went outside. What she saw amazed her.
Ahmed was over by the area where they had shared breakfast this morning. But, this time it wasn't just a table and cushions that was laid out.
He was standing right next to what looked like a roasting spit. There was some meat on the spit and he was turning it slowly. Smoke was rising in the air, and she could smell the aroma, more intense now that she was outside.
Gemma suddenly realized she was hungry, after all. She hadn't eaten a decent meal since leaving the city.
On the table were laid out many plates and on the plates she could see various vegetable and a variety of other dishes she couldn't recognize.
She walked over to him and he turned to her. "Did you rest well?" he asked continuing to turn the spit slowly as he spoke.
"Yeah," she said and peered at him. "Where did all this come from?"
"I arranged for the locals to bring it up from the village. I take you're hungry," he said.
She felt her stomach rumble almost exactly on cue. She placed a hand over her belly. "Sure."
"You do eat meat, don't you?" he asked.
"I'm not a vegetarian, if that's what you mean?"
He looked relieved and came to her, wiping his hands clean. "It'll be ready shortly," he said.
"You're quite the cook, then," she teased.
"I know how to look after myself," he admitted.
She lifted a brow at him. "With the help of the locals, of course."
He smiled. "With a little help. They're more than happy to do this kind of thing. I don't ask them that often. But, I figured this was a special occasion."
"Really?" she replied gazing at him for a long moment.
"Isn't it?"
She shrugged. "I suppose it is," she admitted.
He glanced down at the table. "Would you like a drink?"
She looked at the bottles on the table. "What do you have there?"
He bent down and picked up a bottle. "A local drink, made from fruit."
"Alcohol?" she asked.
He nodded. "But very sweet." He gazed at her an instant.
"Quite appropriate, don't you think?"
She ignored that attempt at flattery and took the bottle. She sniffed at the opening. It smelled sweet, just like he'd said. "Maybe I can try a little. If you're having some yourself."
He lifted two glasses from the table. "Of course."
He poured a small amount into both glasses and handed her one.
He lifted his glass to her and clinked his against hers. "To peace and quiet," he said without the slightest trace of sarcasm, she thought.
She smiled at him. "That sounds about right, I think," she agreed.
Gemma sipped the drink and almost coughed as the liquid caught at the back of her throat. Ahmed had been right. It did taste of fruit, with a delicate fragrance.
He laughed a little. "Strong?"
Gemma nodded, her eyes wide with surprise. "Yeah."
He sipped his own and smacked his lips appreciatively. "Lovely."
She glanced at all the food. "Don't you think there's too much just for two?"
He shrugged. "I thought more might be better than taking the chance of leaving us hungry for more," he explained.
Their eyes met and they exchanged a look for a moment. Was he talking about food? Or something else, she asked herself. What was he expecting this to lead to?
They chatted a while as Ahmed attended to the food. They watched the sun begin to sink toward the horizon.
It had been a long, slow and very lazy day, she reflected. One of the calmest days she'd had in a long time. But she was glad she'd had the chance to to come here. Her mind was clearer than it had been back in the city.
Thoughts of leaving before nightfall had faded into the background, now. All she could really think of was the food and Ahmed's delightful conversation. His perfect company would have been a better way to describe it, she told herself.
She could imagine he'd be a skilled host back in Qazhar city. He seemed able to manage the conversation with ease, making her feel comfortable. He teased her with little jokes and, from time to time, offered casual compliments which of course she just as casually dismissed.
For a short while, they stood together on top of one of the nearest dunes and savored the sight of the sun beginning to set. It would be night soon.
And then?
She didn't know the answer to that. It would be better not to dwell on that, she told herself.
Then, finally the food was ready and they sat down to eat. She sat right alongside him on her own large cushion. He was so close to her, mere inches in fact, she could almost feel the heat of his body.
But she didn't even try to increase the distance between them. It seemed somehow right that they should sit so close. They'd been through enough together that anything more formal, more polite just wouldn't have made sense.
He served her the food on the simple, undecorated plates. For a while they ate in silence. The food was as delicious as he'd promised it would be. The meat was tender, the vegetables crisp and there was some soft bread which melted in her mouth.
After that there was fruit and more of the sweet drink. She was mindful not to drink too much of it, instead draining a few glasses of cool water which was set on the table in a large, glass carafe.
Once she'd finished eating, she felt completely full. "That was wonderful," she told Ahmed. "My compliments to the chef," she joked.
He looked pleased with that comment. "It wasn't just me. You'll have to thank the folks in the village when you get back."
The subject of her leaving created a heavy, long silence between them. She sipped some water and thought how she would address that subject.
"About that, Ahmed," she started to say, but he interrupted her.
"Let's not talk about that," he said. He shifted a little, and now there was hardly any distance between them. In fact, she felt his hip touch hers. That wasn't any accident, she told herself. But, her reaction was exactly as it had been before. Somehow it felt right for him do that.
Gemma glanced at him. He gazed at her for a long moment. There was a question in that gaze, and she asked herself what it could be.
Was he about to shift even closer? Perhaps steal a kiss? Maybe she'd drank too much of the liqueur.
Some part of her wrenched her attention away from his dark, hungry gaze. She glanced at the table. "You want a hand cleaning all this up?"
It sounded like a distraction, and she knew it. His brows furrowed. He breathed in deeply and then sighed. "Sure," he replied curtly.
She stood up quickly, feeling suddenly awkward. She'd seen the disappointment in his eyes there. It hadn't been obvious, but she guessed she was beginning to read him better.
He stood and they both surveyed the table. "I'll take this stuff away," he said. There was definite unease in his voice, she reflected.
"No, really," she insisted. "Let me help."
He glanced suddenly out toward the distant horizon. He seemed worried by something.
"What is it?" she asked.
He sighed. "Fells like there might be a sandstorm coming," he explained.
"Really," she said, instantly worried.
He shook his head. "It should be okay. Probably won't be too strong. We get them this time of year. It'll pass."
"And them?" she asked turning to look back at both tents.
"They're secure. No need to worry."
She nodded. "If you say so," she replied. "After all, you're the expert."
He smiled. "I guess you're right," he said and then glanced down at the plates again. "Better be quick getting rid of these."
They both bent down at the same time and their arms and hands crashed together.
Sensation flooded through her at that innocent touch. There was an electric feeling to that collision. Nothing innocent at all.
They both froze, almost unsure what to do next. She looked at him and smiled apologetically. She laughed, wondering if he'd felt the effect of that innocent contact the way she had.
One look into his eyes told her he had. There was need in that look. He gazed deep into her eyes, and she saw his nostril flare slightly.
They both straightened, awkwardly and very slowly. He still hadn't said a word to her, but she could tell what he wanted next. What he needed next.
Then he moved forward and quickly wrapped his arms around her, drawing her hard against him. She gasped, and for one final, brief moment she considered pulling away.
But then the moment was gone and she felt herself lost in the dizzying emotion sweeping through her.
Ahmed gazed into her eyes one last time, and then his head dipped and his lips crashed down upon hers.
Desire ignited inside her, an instantly burning flame as his kiss brought her own need to life. The heat was instant. It flamed into life all throughout her body. It was as if every nerve had been waiting for this.
He kissed her even more eagerly, not holding back, now that he had seized his moment.
Their moment.
His lips were hungry.
No. A voice told her something else. It was much more than hunger.
That kiss was ravenous. He almost seemed to want to devour her.
His lips were moist, but forceful, eagerly seeking pleasure. And, just as insistently giving pleasure.
His tongue probed her mouth and she gasped. Her senses whirled, her heart beating ferociously. Gemma's pulse was pounding in her ears as he continued to take his pleasure. He snaked his fingers through her hair, tugging gently at it. The sensation triggered another wave of pleasure.
She reached her arms around to his back, holding onto him, curling her fingers into the fabric of his robe.
Her reaction seemed to drive him on even more relentlessly. His kiss became firmer, his lips pressing, urgently searching for more. Her breathing quickened.
She'd never felt like this before. Of course, she'd kissed before. But not like this.
No-one had ever kissed her with such a ferocious, primal need.
It was as if a dam had been burst open.
No.
She realized that wasn't true. This feeling had been building since she had first laid eyes on him. Since that encounter in the garden, something inside her had been growing, waiting to be let loose.
And now he had freed that passion from inside her.
She gave herself over completely to his desire. There was only one thing she wanted right now, and that was for him to posses her, to claim her, to lavish his entire attention on her and drive her to heights of pleasure she'd never known possible.
He continued to kiss her, crushing her breasts against his firm torso. She felt his firmness pressing against her, a promise of even more pleasure. It felt hard and very large. She could scarcely believe this was happening.
But, for now, there was no thought of anything except the present moment and the delirium she was feeling.
Then he shifted his mouth lower, tracing a line down to her neck. She felt his tongue move down the skin of her neck. Ecstasy quivered through her and she moaned.
This was beyond belief. She knew it had to stop, but she was powerless. Her treacherous body had taken over. All she knew was the pleasure that was consuming her.
Then his lips were lavishing kisses on her neck, as if he already knew the parts of her body which would give her the most pleasure. Her secret places.
Gemma rolled her eyes and gazed up at the darkening sky. Stars were beginning to appear there. Or were those stars simply triggered by the intense pleasure he was giving her?
She closed her eyes again, sinking into the sensations, clutching his body, desperate not to let go.
One of his hands curved around one of her breasts. She felt his thumb press against the fabric and within, her nipple pebbled instantly. Sensation rippled through her body. She felt heat at her core as his lips kissed her neck and his hands worked wonders with her body.
Then he lifted his head and gazed wonderingly at her, as if he was asking her something. She knew what he wanted. And, for a moment, she told herself she wanted that as much as he did.
