by Sophia Lynn
“Or I suppose if you wish, after we have done our duty, we could look for some food and see where the night takes us.”
A smile spread over her face, and Adnan felt his heart beat faster and his body tense with pleasure. What a woman he had found.
“I think I'd like that very much,” she said.
Chapter 3
The police station was small and clean, and reporting the incident to the man at the counter was far less of an ordeal than Bailey thought it would be. It didn't take much more than half an hour, and the questions were kept brief, clear and easy, and more importantly, she was believed.
In a short while, she was back in warm night, the man who had introduced himself as Adnan standing by her side. As she stretched the kinks out of her shoulders, she watched him out of the corner of her eye as he checked his phone.
He was a big man, broad through the shoulders and in the casual clothes he wore, almost movie star-handsome. He was clean-shaven with the ink-dark hair that was so common in this part of the world, and there was something almost ridiculously commanding about him, as if he expected the entire world to give him his due.
I don't know if this is usually my type, but he is, she thought with a little bit of amusement.
She generally preferred the easy-going type, and she could already tell that Adnan probably wasn't that. Still, there was something to be said for a man who rode to her rescue on a horse and then gave her a lift on said horse to the local police station to make a report.
“Thanks,” she said, and Adnan pocketed his phone, giving her a quizzical look.
“For what?” he asked in genuine confusion, and she laughed.
“Seriously? For saving my rear on the beach, for the ride on your horse, for the help in the police station. I know that they wouldn't have been so very nice to me without you glaring at them over my shoulder.”
Adnan made a face.
“I'm sorry for that,” he said. “Sometimes a little pressure in the right place is necessary to see justice done.”
“Well, if you're apologizing for men everywhere, I suppose I can accept for women all over the world,” Bailey said with some amusement.
“And the invitation to dinner?” asked Adnan almost innocently. “Are you of a mind to accept that as well? Though that's just for you. I think I do rather well for myself, but I'm not able to buy dinner for all the world's women.”
“Oh, very smooth, nice segue,” she said with a laugh.
There was a moment where she hesitated. Bailey knew herself fairly well, and she knew that she was already drawn to this man. At this stage of the job she was doing for her father, there was very little she could afford less than an entanglement, no matter how casual or easy. At the same time, there was something about the way that Adnan was looking at her, something half-inviting and half-challenging in her eyes that made her lift her chin.
“All right,” she said. “But I'm paying.”
To her surprise, he draped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her close with a smoky grin on his face. From another man, it would have been too much, too pushy, possibly even threatening, but for some reason, from Adnan, it was just right.
“Not a chance,” he purred. “You don't pay when I'm the one doing the inviting.”
As they walked down the road, the night market around them springing to life as vendors spread out their wares and lit the intricate wooden lanterns that were so much a part of Ikkar's landscape, Bailey laughed.
“So when I'm doing the inviting, you'll let me pay?”
“Mm, I suppose I'll think about it.”
“Very fair of you!”
“I think so,” he said with mock seriousness. “And perhaps you'll tell me your name at some point. Surely I have earned it by now?”
“You didn't catch it in the police station?”
“I'm afraid I was too busy glaring, as you said.”
Bailey pressed herself a little more firmly under Adnan's arm, liking how solid his body was next to hers. Her mind was still full of all of the reasons it would be a terrible idea to have any sort of entanglement while she was at work, but there was an insidious little voice that whispered that surely there was enough space for a fling, a very small one?
Surely it would be fine.
“Bailey,” she said finally, and she watched as a slow smile, sweet as honey, crossed his face. “My name is Bailey.”
“Bailey,” he said, as if tasting her name on his tongue. “So very good to meet you, Bailey.”
Adnan took her to a small restaurant that was located in the basement of an older house. The thick walls kept it cool, and it was lit with electric lights designed to resemble candles, giving the entire place a mysterious and antique feel. The waiter, a teenage boy with a long apron thrown over his caftan, seemed to recognize Adnan and showed him straight to a small alcove at the rear of the seating space.
“Very nice,” Bailey said, settling onto the padded bench next to Adnan. “Very elegant.”
“I usually like things a little more modern than this,” Adnan admitted, “but the food here is the best.”
It struck Bailey that there was something almost embarrassed about Adnan just then, as if he was slightly abashed for not taking her to the finest of white tablecloth establishments. She laughed, squeezing his hand gently.
“I'm going to love whatever it is they are serving,” she promised. “It smells amazing.”
Soon enough, Bailey was proved correct, and a platter of roast chicken was presented to them along with a cloth-lined basket of small round flatbreads, brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with herbs.
“Here,” Adnan said. “You fold the bread like this, and fill it with slices of chicken. Then you can dip it in the yogurt sauce, like this.”
She thought he would take a bite to show her, but instead, he presented it to her. There was nothing self-conscious about the way he did it, nothing nervous or pushy. Intrigued, she took a bite and chewed, blinking a little in pleasure as she did so. The flatbread was crispy on the outside, soft and fluffy within, and the chicken was utterly perfect; flavorful, moist and just the right balance of spicy and sweet and slightly sour.
“This is incredible,” she said, and Adnan laughed, taking the bundle he had prepared back and taking a bigger bite for himself.
“Ikkar is known for this chicken dish, but I believe this place does it the best...”
She eagerly went to prepare her own flatbread, and for a short while, they ate in companionable silence.
Apparently a night like I've had works up an appetite, she thought with amusement.
It wasn't until the end of the meal, when the teenager had brought them warm damp towels to clean their hands, that the music started, and Bailey's ears pricked up immediately.
This is exactly what the people who might visit Dad's resort are looking for, she thought. Good food, good music. This is amazing, they're going to love it, and the people preparing the food, playing the music, their lives are going to change as well…
Adnan had noticed her interest, and he grinned.
“A bit different than what you're used to?” he asked teasingly. “That's an oud and a daf, and they're played all over the Middle East. I don't suppose you hear them very much in the club scene.”
Bailey laughed, shaking her head.
“And you are so old that you've graduated from the club scene entirely? You're maybe five years older than me at most.”
“I'm twenty-nine,” he said, mock-affronted, and she laughed again.
“Called it. I'm twenty-four, and I haven't been to a club in ages.”
“Then of course you have forgotten how to dance.”
“Well, I was never very good at it—”
She would have said more, but then a couple close to the musicians seated on the dais went out to the broad empty area in the front of the restaurant. Bailey watched enthralled as they spun around, reaching their hands for each other, brushing just the fingertips before they spun away again. Soon en
ough, another couple joined them, and then another and another.
Bailey was just puzzling out the steps when Adnan suddenly seized her hand and tugged her towards the floor.
“Oh come on, I just got done telling you that I wasn't good at this!”
“Then get better,” Adnan retorted, and then she was on the floor facing him, glad she had been watching the dancers so intently a moment before. Close as she had been watching, however, she still turned the wrong way and bumped into the people around her, but far from being irritated or annoyed, they only laughed, pointing her in the right direction and bumping her towards Adnan.
The dance was easy, the same series of steps over and over again, but then came the variations she could see the men and women doing all around her, where one set of turns was emphasized by a stomp of the foot or where one meeting was rebuffed with a hand held over one's face.
The music grew faster, but at the same time, Bailey got better, fluttering her eyelashes outrageously at Adnan or even blowing him a kiss as they danced closer and then drifted apart. The floor was full of people flirting with their partners, and Bailey had to keep her laughter in check so she wouldn't simply stumble into someone and knock them to the ground.
Then between one moment and another, the music changed, the women left the floor, and Adnan swung her by the arm away and towards the entrance.
“Did I finally mess up the steps one too many times?” she asked, breathless, and Adnan laughed, shaking his head.
“They're doing the men's dances next,” he said. “They're a little rougher, and I thought they'd be less interesting for you.”
“I'm very interested as long as no one gets rough with me,” Bailey said, and then Adnan shot her a significant look.
“I thought there might be something else you’d be interested in?” he asked delicately, and his meaning became crystal clear to her.
“Oh!” she said, and then more softly, “oh...”
Adnan shrugged, that same easy-going smile on his face.
“It's up to you. If you'd like to go back to your hotel, I'll certainly take you there, however…”
Bailey started to ask him however, what, but then he pulled her into his arms in the restaurant courtyard, under the shade of a fragrant-leafed tree, and his mouth covered hers.
The kiss tasted lightly of the mint drink they had both had, and then as he tilted her back and deepened the kiss, Bailey felt as if she was losing herself to it, as if she were slipping and sliding away into a moment where there was nothing but the two of them, nothing but the warmth of his body through their clothes, the strength of his arms, the wild emotions that his kiss stirred in her.
Last chance to get out, something in her said. Last chance to walk away…
She pushed it aside. It didn't matter. This was just for fun. She could have just a night of fun before she got back to work, and after all, the music and the food she had had this evening were, as enjoyable as they had been, a part of her work as well.
She could have this.
Adnan pulled back long before she was ready, and in the light hanging from the post beside them, his eyes looked as dark as midnight, and his mouth was almost achingly tender. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that he was getting away from something too, that he was telling himself that it would only be one night, just like she was telling herself the same thing.
With a soft sigh, she gave herself up to the passion that was tugging at her core. Something about him seemed to put a hook straight into her heart, and now she had no choice but to follow.
Chapter 4
Bailey hadn't thought that they would spend the night in the closet-like room of her hostel, but at the same time, she hadn't expected him to take her to a small house on the edge of town. It was a beautiful little place, the walls whitewashed and clean, the red roof tiles reminding her of places she had been throughout the Mediterranean. There was a wall surrounding the property, keeping in a gorgeous garden, and around the back, she could see a small paddock, where the mare they had rode into town was stabled in a small shed.
“This place is yours?” she asked, following him in. “I'll be honest, I had you pegged as a more urban kind of guy.”
Something about what she said made him laugh, and when he closed the door after them, Adnan pulled her into his arms again, kissing her, if anything, more thoroughly than he had before.
“Tell me what else you think of me,” he murmured, nuzzling the tender crook of her neck right beside her ear. “Why don't you tell me all about myself?”
“So very nice when a man tells me up front how vain he is,” she started, but then she gasped when the tip of his tongue found just the right spot at the base of her throat; the perfect spot to send a rush of feelings straight through her and make her shudder.
“Every man is vain,” he retorted. “Some of us are just more quiet about it than others.”
Bailey started to respond to that, but then Adnan swept her up in his arms, picking her up as if she weighed nothing and kissing her at the same time. Startled, she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him back fiercely as he carried her into the bedroom.
It was large room, and the bed, almost the only piece of furniture, seemed to fill it from end to end. She caught a glimpse of what looked like acres of soft blue sheets, and then Adnan threw her lightly onto the surface, making her laugh with delight.
“You ought to be careful with that,” she said teasingly. “I might decide that the only thing I want is piggyback rides, and then where would you be?”
“Giving you piggy back rides until I can convince you I am good for other things,” Adnan retorted, and then he was clambering onto the bed with her, kicking off his shoes as she flicked off her own sandals. Then she was back in his arms, and Bailey's jokes ran straight out of her head. God, how in the world could she think of anything else when this man was around for her to kiss?
Passion was rising up in her steadily, but even more extraordinarily, she could feel it rise up in Adnan as well. She knew somewhere deep and primal inside her that he wanted this as much as she did, and somehow that made her want him even more. His skin felt hot through his clothes, and suddenly Bailey realized she was desperate to feel his skin against hers.
She reached up, tugging at his fine cotton shirt.
“Take this off,” she whispered. “I want to see you. To feel you.”
Something dark and hot sparked in Adnan's eyes, and a wickedly dangerous smile played over his lips.
“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he murmured, and he knelt up on the bed.
He didn't perform a striptease exactly, but there was a certain awareness of her gaze as he slid his shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor.
God, he looked good clothed, how in the world does he look even better naked?
She could see the definition of his muscles, the even, smooth brown of his skin, the trail of dark hair that started on his belly and descended into his trousers.
Bailey caught her breath at his large and graceful hands opening his trousers and sliding them down, revealing slim muscular hips and…
“Oh,” she said, her voice faint and her eyes fixed. She didn't even realize she was staring until Adnan laughed softly.
“So do I pass muster?” he asked, his voice rich and throbbing with amusement.
“You do,” Bailey said. “Oh, please, come here.”
Adnan discarded the rest of his clothes with admirable speed, and then he was back and taking her in his arms again, his mouth hard and hot as he kissed her, starting with her mouth and then going right down her chin.
“You are a wicked woman,” he murmured between kisses, “getting me all bare while staying so clothed. I suppose I shall have to fix that...”
Before she knew quite what he was doing, he had skimmed the edge of her tunic up, pulling the whole thing over her head and taking her scarf with it. Free of the scarf, and coming loose from the braid, her hair fell do
wn around her shoulders, and Adnan took away the elastic holding her braid in place.
“Such beauty,” he murmured, almost to himself. Bailey almost purred as he stroked his fingers through the slippery strands, coming back to massage her scalp gently.
“You make me glad that I didn't cut it when things got warm,” she said, and he rewarded her with another kiss.
Then his hands were at the waistband of her loose trousers, and a moment later, she was in her underwear under his dark and intent gaze. There was a moment where she wished she had had the foresight to wear something besides a beige bra and panties, but when Adnan moved to take them off, it didn't matter at all.
She whimpered as their bodies pressed together, the sound high and wanting. It made Adnan pause for a moment, a look of concern on his face.
“Bailey, are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said. “Only. Um. We should talk about protection?”
The words came out a little higher and more questioning than she would have liked, but Adnan only looked at her tenderly, reaching up to smooth her hair back from her face.
“Of course. I never want to hurt you, darling.”
He reached into the small bedside drawers, rummaged for a moment, and pulled out a box of condoms, making her grin a little.
“That's a box of twelve. Are you feeling ambitious?”
“It's always good to be prepared,” Adnan retorted, and then he returned to kissing her.
For a little while, Bailey lost the thread of how things were meant to go. She had always believed in being a willing and giving partner, but with Adnan, it was too easy to forget all about it. It was far, far too easy to lie down and let him touch and explore her, to give herself over to the kind of pleasure that she had sort of thought was just a dream or a fantasy. It seemed as if his mouth and his hands were everywhere, waking her skin up in a dozen new ways that she had never really anticipated before.
Slowly, with painstaking care, he worked his way down her body, nuzzling at her small breasts and making her sensitive pink nipples rise into stiff peaks under his gentle lips. He seemed to instinctively know how very easily she could be overwhelmed, how little it would take to cross over into something that was far less pleasant.
