by Imari Jade
Oasis
Copyright © September 2009, Imari Jade
Cover art by Sugar and Spice Press © September 2009
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
Sugar and Spice Press
North Carolina, USA
www.sugarandspicepress.net
Chapter One
“Whew.” Charisma took off her hat and wiped the sweat from her brow. The sun blinded her as she looked up. It if wasn’t for the shyness of the sand viper she was trying to photograph she would be back at her aunt’s mansion lounging around the cool, wet swimming pool and sipping on a nice cold glass of iced tea. The viper stuck his head out of the sand, allowing her to capture its likeness in mid-strike as it lunged toward her. She moved away from the angry snake and continued snapping its picture until it retreated back into the sand. Someone cleared their throat behind her. Turning, she stared up at the flanks of a mocha-colored camel. Upon its back rode a hooded and partially masked black man with intense dark brown eyes. Behind him and the camel sat a caravan of desert vehicles and other camel riders.
“What are you doing?” His voice was deep, melodic and heavily accented.
“Photographing nature in its rarest form.”
“No, I mean what are you doing out here in the desert alone? The Sahara is a dangerous place even for a man.”
Charisma tore her gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes. “I’m trying to get an award winning shot for a magazine if it’s any of your business. I can’t concentrate with a bodyguard shackled to my ankles.”
“A very unwise decision. You are much too fine to be unchaperoned.”
“Thanks for the complement but I’m properly covered.” She pointed to the veil on her face. “Nothing’s showing.”
“Apparently you’ve never seen what you look like from behind.”
Charisma looked up in a huff. “It’s rude of you to point out that I have a big butt.”
A few of the others chuckled.
“Not big, shapely and formidable.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me? I’m about to leave anyway. It’s too darn hot here and water is not quenching my thirst.”
“Good. I would hate to read tomorrow’s headlines in the newspaper and discover that something has happened to you. I can just see it now…young Hispanic woman with a gigantic butt succumbs to the hot Sahara heat.”
Charisma tried to ignore him as she bent over and put her camera back into the case.
“Formidable.”
She looked back to give him another piece of her mind but he was leaving. The rest of the riders and the cars followed him. Her heartbeat quieted moments later. He had the most gorgeous eyes she had ever looked in to. And that voice…deep and sexy. She fanned herself. It was the type of baritone that made a woman’s knees shake. “I wonder what the rest of him looks like.” She folded the tripod and tossed it into the back of her Jeep along with the rest of her things. “Too bad he’s so damn arrogant.”
* * * *
“Where have you been, Chrissy?” her aunt Carmen asked as she stepped inside the house.
“Out taking pictures.”
“Girl, I swear. I don’t remember you being born with a camera slung around your neck.”
“No, but stop me if I’m wrong— weren’t you the one who gave me my first camera when I was ten?”
Carmen hugged her niece. “Yes, it was me but that’s only because you refused to play with dolls.”
“Dolls are the devil’s henchmen and they misrepresent what a woman’s body should look like. No one has a perfect body like Barbie.”
“She has no ass,” her aunt teased. “Not even the Latina Barbie.” She slapped her ample butt. “See Latina booty.”
Carmen Fuentez was a tall, striking redhead with a nice body for a woman in her late forties.
Her uncle cleared his throat as he entered the kitchen. “You’re corrupting the girl. She is not all about her booty.”
He wasn’t bad either in the looks department, Charisma noted. He was taller than Carmen and worked out regularly at the gym. She kissed him on his cheek. “No, but tell the truth Mr. Ambassador, isn’t that what drew you to Aunt Carmen in the first place?”
Julio Fuentez chuckled. “It was the first part of her that I saw.”
“You two are horrible. Chrissy, your dress has arrived. You need to try it on to make sure it fits.”
“You mean I have to make sure that I’m appropriately covered so that I won’t offend the natives.”
“Se. We are in Africa and most of our guests are from Muslim countries.”
“Do I have to cover my hair and my face?”
“No, not while you’re here on this property,” her uncle answered. “So you can let all that radiant beauty show.”
Charisma blushed. “I think you’re biased.”
“Yes, I’m kind of stuck on you kid. Now go to your room, and try on that dress before my wife has a fit. You know she likes everything perfect when she entertains.”
No, she really didn’t. She had only been there for two weeks and no one had come to visit except a couple of employees from the Embassy. Charisma opened the door to her room. The dress in question hung in a bag on the closet door. There was also a big box on the bed. She partially unzipped it. “Yeah, it’s black.” For a moment she thought her aunt was going to order the pink one which wasn’t her favorite color. “I can’t try this on. I’m covered in sand.” She made a mad dash for the shower and exited a little while later. She pulled the dress out of the garment bag. “Good, it’s tea length.” She didn’t like long formals because they called attention to her height. Besides it was too damn hot. Charisma unzipped the zipper, stepped into the dress and then struggled to get it over her behind. Charisma spun around and looked at herself in the mirror. “Formidable.” She practiced a curtsey and her boobs jiggled. “Oh, oh, maybe Aunt Carmen should be a little more worried about the front of the dress.” The neckline hung low and showed off a considerable amount of cleavage. Charisma opened the box on the bed. Inside was a matching light-weight jacket, a strapless bra and hose. The jacket barely covered her ample breasts. She sighed. “Well, it’s too late to get anything else. The party is only a couple hours away.”
* * * *
Shakir stepped inside the study. His cousin Amon followed him in and sat down in a chair. “I’m tired. Do we really have to go to that party?”
Shakir removed his keffiyek and mask. “Yes, the Ambassador and his wife are expecting us.”
“Whose brilliant idea was it to ride the camels?”
“Haji.”
“Your brother is trying to kill me. I can’t help it if he’s too tall to fit comfortably in the car.”
Shakir sat down on the other seat. He nodded. “I barely fit and I’m shorter than both he and Aton.”
“And you’re six-foot-three. I’m glad that I didn’t inherit my height from my father.”
Amon was barely five-foot-ten but he still posed a threatening figure as one of the king’s leader of the guards. “Women love tall men.”
Amon sat up. “Speaking of women, what do you think of that desert flower we saw earlier?”
“Hard to say. I couldn’t really see her face.”
Amon laughed. “But you did see other things.”
“Darn fool woman, alone in the desert taking pictures.”
“What do you expect? She is an American.”
“For her to show some common sense. She was out at the hottest time of the day and she could have died from heat stroke.” He paused. “And yes, the body was amazing.”
Amon chuckled. “I k
new you were checking her out.”
“Checking who out?” Haji asked as he and Aton walked into the room.
Shakir looked toward the door and at his two older brothers. “Don’t you have your own rooms?” His family had come to town for a couple of days and they were staying with him.
“The wives are with us and they have taken over the rooms with clothes and frilly stuff,” Aton answered.
“Who is Shakir checking out?” Haji asked again. He was first in line for the throne and a natural born leader. He was also natural born nosey.
“The woman in the desert.”
“The one with the sizeable behind?”
Amon shook his head. “That’s the one.”
Shakir hated the way they discussed him like he wasn’t there. “Give me a break. Didn’t either of you notice how she was aggravating that snake? It could have bit her.”
Haji tossed a pillow at him as he sat down. “Since when have you developed concern for others?”
“Since never,” Aton answered for him. “There’s no Fruit Loops in the kitchen cupboard and he knew I was coming.”
“You’ve been here five minutes. When did you have a chance to search the cupboards?”
Aton smiled sheepishly. “I looked on my way to your room.”
Shakir sighed. Aton was a bottomless pit and he was always hungry. “I’ll pick some up later in town, you big baby. Anyway, just think if she had been Zahara or Thema?”
“I don’t have to think about it,” Haji replied. “Our sisters are smart when it comes to the desert and besides, their husbands would never allow it.” He paused. “Maybe her husband doesn’t care.”
“I don’t think she’s married. I didn’t see a ring.”
Amon waved his hand in front of Shakir’s face annoyingly. “When did you have time to look for a ring? You only had a five minute conversation or should I say argument with her.”
“That is why he is not married,” Haji replied. “He likes to argue.”
Shakir ignored his brother. “It was enough time. Anyway, she doesn’t seem like the marrying type. She has a career. I think she is a photographer.”
Amon shrugged. “You’re making an awful lot of this. You’ll never see her again.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He rose. “I’m going to take a shower and when I get out I better find all of you gone.”
Amon rose. “We can take a hint. We’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Chapter Two
Charisma’s stomach led her out of her room and down the stairs. The house smelled of freshly baked bread and cakes. Her aunt slapped her fingers just before she touched an appetizer.
“None of that. You’ll spoil your dinner.”
“But I’m starving.”
“Let me look at you.” She spun Charisma around. “You look bitching, Chica.”
Charisma pulled at the neck of her dress. “I’m too exposed.”
“Nonsense. What’s a little cleavage? You remind me so much of your mother. She got all the breasts in the family.”
“Has everyone arrived?”
“Are you looking for Robert?”
“Yeah.”
Carmen nodded. “He’s here with his parents. They got here about an hour ago. He’s in the den discussing politics with Julio.”
“Boring.”
“He’s going to be president one day, and you’ll be first lady.”
“I doubt that.”
“What’s wrong? Did you two have a fight?”
“No, we just never discussed marriage. In fact, we hardly discuss anything except politics in the two years we’ve been dating. I don’t think he’d notice me unless I walked buck naked in front of him draped in a flag.”
Carmen chuckled. “Most men are that way. But try not to let it spoil your evening.” The first chords of the Star Spangled Banner played over the speakers in the house. “That’s our queue. Time to go out and mingle.”
The ballroom was crowded with foreign dignitaries from all over Africa. Julio approached and took her arm. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
She had no choice but to follow.
“King Hakeem, may I present my niece, Charisma Romaine. Chrissy, this is Remmao Hakeem, king of Nubia.”
The tall stately man rose and bowed before her. He was nice looking, probably in his sixties, with sterling gray hair, a well-groomed mustache and beard. The white tuxedo he wore was accented with a red sash with the Nubian emblem in the center. Charisma curtsied. “Your majesty.”
“You are lovely my dear. Your uncle has told me so much about you. Come let me introduce you to the rest of my family.” He walked her over to a beautiful older woman who wore a long blue gown. She was tall but dwarfed by him. “This is my wife, Femi.”
Charisma curtsied again.
“Rise child. We’re not so formal anymore.” She took Charisma’s hand. “My, you’re lovely.”
“Thank you. What a lovely broach.”
“It’s an antique. It’s was my grandmother’s.”
“It’s lovely.”
Femi and Hakeem introduced her to the rest of their children. There were so many names that she had to remember. “And this is my youngest son, Prince Shakir.”
“It’s you,” he said.
Charisma stared blankly at him.
“From the desert.”
That voice…those eyes. It’s him…the one on the camel. She curtsied. His eyes dipped seriously low to her cleavage. “Very nice to meet you, Prince Shakir.” Damn and he’s gorgeous. He had replaced his desert wear and was sporting a dashing black tuxedo with his family’s sash and emblem. His hair was cut short and stylish and he had a faint hint of a mustache and beard.
He kissed her hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Romaine.”
“The two of you know each other?” Remmao asked.
“We met earlier in the desert.”
Remmao nodded. “Yes, I remember, she was taking pictures of a snake.”
“What snake?” Julio asked.
Charisma tried to minimize the event. “It wasn’t a big snake.”
“Seth allowed you near a snake?”
“Who’s Seth?” Shakir asked.
“Her bodyguard.”
“I did not see a bodyguard. She was alone in the desert.”
Charisma rolled her eyes at him.
“She was what? How many times have we discussed this? You are not to go anywhere alone.”
“But Seth is so boring.” Seth was a two-hundred and fifty pound African who never smiled.
“He’s supposed to be boring. He is a bodyguard.”
Charisma poked her tongue at Shakir. “See what you’ve started.”
Shakir took no offense. “Your uncle is right. The desert is no place for a beautiful woman.” He turned his back on her, dismissing her.
“Arrogant male.”
Remmao laughed. “Yes, he is, but I have the feeling he has met his match.”
Charisma was saved from her uncle’s ire with the arrival of Governor Edwards and his family. Julio introduced them. “This is the governor of Louisiana, Kelsey Edwards and his wife Ina. Kelsey looked as distinguished as ever in his white tuxedo. Ina was a mousey woman with huge brown eyes and long black hair. Robert cleared his throat.
“I haven’t forgotten about you. This is their son, Robert. He and Charisma are practically engaged.” Robert wore a black tuxedo. He was tall, but not as tall as Shakir. The sapphire accessories he wore brought out the blue in his eyes.
Prince Shakir turned around and looked at her questionably.
“Not exactly,” she corrected. “We’ve been on a couple of dates.”
Shakir turned his back on her again.
Remmao laughed. “I think I’m going to enjoy this,” he told Femi.
* * * *
“What’s wrong?” Robert asked her as they danced.
“Nothing, why?” Prince Shakir is surrounded by a lot of beautiful women.
�
�You’re not talking.”
“That’s because we’re dancing.” They’re probably a part of his harem.
“That never stopped you before.”
She ignored his smart comment. “When did you arrive?”
“This morning. We stopped and rested at the hotel. Mother is not used to this heat.”
