Focus of Desire

by Kim Baldwin

  Isabel glanced over at Kash again. She hadn’t moved and was still infuriatingly unreadable.

  “You’ll pardon my saying so,” Gillian went on, “but all of that didn’t deter her when it came to you, and perhaps that says something. Is it going to be awkward being around her for the rest of the trip?”

  “No, no,” Isabel answered immediately because she certainly had no problem being around Kash, even if nothing further happened. Any chance to be near her a while longer was a blessing. And it didn’t seem as though it would be awkward at all for Kash. Polite, but distant, and acting completely unaffected. If she was interested in me, it was apparently only until she could get in my pants a time or two. “It’ll be fine.”

  “I wonder what’s keeping Ambra,” Gillian said, her eyes riveted on the growing crowd.

  “Really gone on her, aren’t you?”

  Gillian grinned. “This one is hard to resist. The accent, the body, the manners. I’ve invited her to visit—not that I think she will. But who knows, right? You’re the one who’s always telling me anything is possible.”

  “Whoa! What am I hearing? You mean to tell me you’re finally connecting with your inner romantic? ’Bout damn time!” She rubbed Gillian affectionately on the back. “I hope she takes you up on it, Gill, if she’s something special. I really hope she does.” Glancing over at Kash again, she noticed that the sky was now overcast, noticeably darkening the gate area, but Kash made no move to remove her sunglasses.

  The gate agent announced that pre-boarding for their flight was now underway for travelers with children and special needs. Gillian glanced at her watch. “Jeez, I hope she hasn’t changed her mind or gotten hung up. Not much time before we leave.”

  “She have a cell phone?”

  “I don’t think I have time to track down a phone card.” Gillian frowned when the gate agent announced general boarding for all passengers. “Hey, you two go ahead. I’m going to wait until final boarding.”

  “You sure?” Isabel glanced over at Kash, who was on her feet, carry-on bag over her shoulder and boarding pass and passport in hand. Facing her. Waiting for her. Like she had been listening in the whole time.

  “Yeah,” Gillian urged. “Go. I’m right behind you.”

  Kash waited for Isabel to precede her toward the gangway, not out of any sense of decorum, but so she could selfishly stare at Isabel’s ass and catch a whiff of her perfume.

  The embarking passengers bunched up at the entrance to the plane, putting Kash and Isabel in close proximity. When they were stopped briefly at the door Isabel half turned, giving Kash, a handsbreadth behind, an unobstructed view of the cleavage revealed by her V-necked shell.

  Watching the rise and fall of Isabel’s breasts was delicious torture, especially when she caught a glimpse of lacy white bra.

  “What seat do you have?” Isabel asked.

  Kash lost herself again in the deep blue of those inviting eyes. Not trusting her voice, she held up her boarding pass.

  “One row behind and across the aisle,” Isabel said. “If you want some company during the flight, let me know and maybe we can get one of our seatmates to switch. Gillian’s arranged to be next to her new friend.”

  Kash nodded and tried her hardest not to stare at Isabel’s chest.

  The line started moving again, and when they got to Isabel’s row she turned sideways to let Kash through to the seat beyond. Their breasts brushed briefly as Kash passed, and when they did, their eyes made contact. Isabel smiled that imperfectly perfect smile and Kash melted, and without thinking she grinned back. She quickly tried to correct her lapse in judgment by averting her eyes and assuming a neutral expression, but the damage had been done. When she slipped into her seat and stole a glance, Isabel smiled at her with a knowing expression that said, Busted but good. You can’t stop thinking about last night either, can you?

  Gillian and her Italian friend made it on board right before the doors were closed and settled in several rows ahead of them.

  Kash didn’t attempt to change her seat or talk to Isabel during the more than three-hour flight, and remained distant as they retrieved their gear and rendezvoused with their Egyptian driver—an enthusiastic but solemn young man named Nazim. The car he drove was badly dented front and back and was barely large enough to contain all five of them. Isabel ended up squished between Kash and Gillian in the back. Ambra shared the front seat with all their carry-on bags.

  The difference in their surroundings as they negotiated the chaotic, forty-minute ride to the hotel was jarring. They were definitely in another continent and culture.

  She had never seen anything like the slum they passed on the highway and its desperate poverty. The scent of urine and trash hung pungent in the air, and only the lines of tattered laundry scattered among the ramshackle structures, and the occasional gaunt occupant staring out of a window, convinced her that people did indeed call such wretched and filthy structures home.

  Most native women on the street were dressed modestly, despite the summer heat, their bodies fully covered and veils concealing all but their faces. Street vendors crowded the curbs, hunched beneath umbrellas and makeshift awnings, their wares displayed on blankets and tarps.

  Sand coated every street and building, monument and living soul. The slightest breeze or any passing vehicle stirred it up, sometimes creating mini-sandstorms in the streets that would briefly obscure their vision. Garish billboards with bright colors and broad Arabic captions advertised movies and soda pop.

  “Have you been here before?” Ambra asked Kash.

  Kash nodded. “Many times.”

  “Do you know the hotel?” Gillian chimed in.

  “Yes. The Nile Hilton. Right by the river, so great balcony views again. You can see the pyramids in the distance.” There was a long pause. “And it has a nice pool.”

  Isabel glanced at Kash, who was staring out the window with what could best be described as a rather guilty grin on her face. It took Isabel several seconds to link the pool mention…and balcony views…to her self-pleasuring session in the hot tub. Nah. No way. A coincidence. That’s all.

  But the mere possibility that Kash had been watching sent her pulse racing. Yet another surprise. I’d certainly never have considered myself an exhibitionist.

  “Well, you’ll get your own bed and balcony again,” Gillian told Isabel. “Ambra’s going to get a room and I’ll be staying with her.”

  “Very busy now,” their driver interrupted, as he beeped his horn and swerved around a donkey-drawn cart overflowing with papers and trash. “No rooms.”

  Ambra turned to Gillian in dismay, then the driver. “No rooms at the Hilton? Are you sure?”

  “All tourist hotels,” Nazim clarified. “Americans. Japanese. Europeans. All here now. All full.”

  “Merda,” Ambra said. Creases appeared in her forehead as she frowned at Gillian. “And now?”

  Isabel glanced Kash’s way, but Kash was gazing out the window.

  “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Gillian said uncertainly as she gave Isabel a help-me-out-here-can-you.

  Nazim cursed and laid on the horn as he jerked the car violently to the left to prevent a collision. As Isabel was thrown into Kash’s side, she wondered why Egypt apparently didn’t embrace the notion of marking lanes in the road.

  Kash had surprisingly fast reflexes. She managed to partially catch Isabel; they ended up with Isabel’s head on her shoulder and Kash’s arm around her in a half-embrace.

  “Sorry,” Isabel muttered, pushing herself off Kash as the car corrected. They had only brief contact, but her skin tingled from the sudden warm press of their bodies.

  “No problem.” Kash wondered whether Isabel could feel, during their brief contact, how hard and fast her heart was beating.

  Before they knew it, they were at the Hilton. While Nazim attended to their bags, they headed into the lobby. The concierge intercepted them before they made it halfway to the front desk.<
br />
  “Miss Kash! How splendid for you to stay with us.” He was a rather short but Omar Sharif–handsome older gentleman with a well-trimmed mustache and an elegant splash of gray at his temples. His charcoal suit fit him perfectly. “I am Rasui. Welcome to the Hilton. May I show you and your party to your suites?”

  Kash extended her hand and they shook. “Pleased to meet you, Rasui. And that would be lovely, but I should first alert you that we have an extra person and wonder if you can provide us another suite?”

  When Rasui’s smile faltered slightly, Gillian added, “Doesn’t have to be a suite. Any room will do.”

  The concierge did not immediately reject the request as impossible, but Kash knew he was well trained to mentally exhaust all possibilities—however remote—before daring to deny a celebrity any request. His expression and stiff body language told her the driver knew what he was talking about.

  “I cannot immediately provide you with another room, I am very sorry to say,” he said at last, his tone effusively apologetic. “Of course, if there are any cancellations…but I am afraid the entire hotel is booked for the length of your stay with us. We certainly can provide an additional bed in either of your suites.”

  “Great,” Gillian muttered under her breath. Then louder, “Izzy? Do you mind?”

  “No. No, of course not,” Isabel replied.

  Kash didn’t volunteer anything.

  *

  Well, that was certainly rude. Kash surveyed the sitting area of her suite and spacious bedroom beyond. She could easily have offered this room to Isabel and kept the bedroom for herself. It would have been the polite thing to do. Putting the three of them in the smaller suite would give Gillian and Ambra no privacy at all.

  But it was impossible to share a confined space like this with Isabel right now. Seeing her in whatever she wore—or didn’t wear—to sleep in. Crossing paths as they came or went from the shower. Nope. No way. Already she couldn’t get Isabel out of her mind. If they were to be cooped up together, anything could happen.

  Chapter Sixteen

  At seven the next morning, Kash spotted the envelope that had been slipped under her door. Her first thought—no, hope, if she was honest—was that it was a note from Isabel. She didn’t even really care what it said; nearly anything would do, because she had been up half the night, missing her. Wanting so much to be with her, but fearing it, too.

  It would have been much worse, though, if she had stayed here. At best, you’d have been just as awake and unable to pace through the whole suite. And to even think about the temptation of her on the other side of an unlocked door all the while, dressed in…? Speculation about what Isabel slept in had consumed a good portion of her waking thoughts the night before. She had conjured up the whole gamut of possibilities, but kept returning to the image of a silk teddy in black or red. Probably not at all what Isabel really wore to bed—she seemed more the tank-top-and-pajama-bottoms type—but Kash’s imagination wouldn’t forsake the teddy.

  The envelope contained not a missive from Isabel, however, but a note from their Egyptian driver, who was supposed to pick her up at ten to scout locations.

  Miss Kash,

  Weather advisory has been issued for strong winds beginning tonight. Major sandstorms tomorrow. Please advise.

  Nazim

  This was certainly an unwelcome development. Sandstorms could shut down everything—all travel—and keep people indoors, often for several hours or a day or more.

  A call to the concierge’s desk confirmed the forecast. She carried a cup of coffee out onto the balcony to consider the possibilities. The sky was clear and cloudless, with no sign of the trouble to come. The best thing to do, she decided, was to take advantage of the decent weather while it lasted.

  Nazim answered on the first ring. She discussed a number of possibilities with him, told him what equipment she’d need, and set up a tentative itinerary for the day that would commence at eight thirty.

  Then she called Isabel. She took several deep breaths before she dialed her room. Isabel picked up the phone almost immediately and sounded wide-awake.

  “Yes? Hello?”

  Kash felt her insides clench at the sound of Isabel’s voice. Oh, this is bad. This is so bad. “Isabel, it’s Kash.”

  “Oh! Hi.” In two words, Kash heard Isabel’s clear delight at the unexpected call.

  “I know we were supposed to do our shoot tomorrow, but a bad sandstorm’s forecast.” She tried to keep her voice even. Professional. “I’d like to reschedule for today. Can you be ready in an hour?”

  “Sure. Of course.” Isabel’s sparkling exuberance made it difficult for Kash to remain unaffected.

  “Good. Wear something comfortable. I’ll drop by your suite and pick out a few outfits for you for today, and we’ll go from there.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  And ready she certainly was. When Isabel answered her door, she was wearing a pair of sexy, low-cut jeans and another button-down shirt. The shirt was lavender this time, but styled very much like the one she had worn in the alley.

  They stared at each other for a very long and awkward moment. Kash couldn’t believe how time had slowed. Had it really been less than forty-eight hours since she had touched Isabel? Kissed those lips? It seemed infinitely longer. Far too long. And even more jarring, she realized she had known her less than two weeks. How quickly Isabel had become such a fixture in her thoughts. And she’ll as quickly leave my life. Don’t forget that.

  Finally, Isabel broke the tension. “Come on in.” She stepped aside and allowed Kash into the sitting room, where selections from her new designer wardrobe lay on the couch and single bed. “They’re not up yet,” she added in a low voice, indicating Gillian and Ambra with a tilt of her head toward the closed door to the bedroom. “Late night.”

  Kash’s mind filled with the image of Isabel, awake, listening to the sounds of sex emanating from the other room, and once again she felt like a heel for not volunteering to share her suite. “We’ll be quick,” she replied in an equally subdued tone, crossing to the bed to begin selecting Isabel’s wardrobe for the day. She picked out four outfits and had them packed into a garment bag and ready to go in a couple of minutes.

  The uncomfortable strain between them continued during a silent elevator ride down to the lobby, where Nazim was waiting. During their drive to their first stop, Isabel tried a couple of times to initiate polite conversation, but when Kash barely responded, she gave up and concentrated on the scenery.

  They did the requisite shots at the pyramids, including a few of Isabel on one of the many camels for hire, then moved to the nearby Sphinx for a few more photos. Through it all, Kash spoke only when necessary, giving instructions to Nazim or altering Isabel’s pose with small corrections—“Tilt your chin up slightly,” or “Turn a bit more this way.”

  By now, Isabel was beginning to get a pretty good sense of how to pose and what expressions Kash seemed to favor, so she tried flirty and fierce, seductive and sexy, and all of the other attitudes that Kash had directed her to feign. Inside, though, she was beginning to seethe, even though she had to admit that Kash was really starkly beautiful against the endless desert backdrop, her brown hair a nice contrast to her lightweight khaki trousers and safari-style shirt.

  Though the shutter kept clicking away, Kash’s expression never changed. Not even when Isabel tried deliberately provocative poses. Cold, hard Kash. Yup. For sure you’ve heard that before, if you treat all the women you screw the way you’re treating me.

  She tried to keep telling herself she had no reason to be annoyed. I got precisely what I asked for. And it was great. It was really beginning to rankle her, though, to have Kash be so damn…well, unnecessarily remote. Every now and then she wanted to shake her. How can what happened in that alley have been an experience I can’t forget, and one you don’t wish to acknowledge ever happened?

  When they stopped for lunch Nazim took advantage of their reticence to initiate conv
ersation. He peppered Kash with questions about photography, celebrities she’d met, and her travels, while Isabel and Kash tried unsuccessfully not to constantly look at each other.

  Their third shoot of the day was on a rented felucca, one of the ubiquitous native sailboats that plied the Nile. Kash expected disaster any second. All the ingredients were there: a slightly tippy boat, lots of water, expensive photographic equipment, and a very sexy and slightly accident-prone distraction. But somehow they escaped the experience unscathed and moved on to their final location, a village on the Nile about an hour’s drive from Cairo.

  As they walked about and mingled with the natives, Kash shot a variety of candids. Young children in clean but well-worn clothes ran alongside them, curious and smiling. Old men stared with serious expressions from the doorways of homes built of mud bricks and straw.

  “One more stop, and then we’re done.” Kash led them back toward Nazim’s battered car. “We’ll do some shots out in the desert. The light is really wonderful.”

  They drove until Kash found the perfect backdrop for the lowering sun: a vast desert landscape, with the village far in the distance. No one else was within sight as Nazim parked at the edge of the road.

  “Do you want me in another outfit?” Isabel knew what was coming, and she thought that if anything might get a reaction out of Kash today, this would be it. She would push aside her annoyance and make one more effort to see if she could coerce Kash into something more.

  “Yes, please.”

  As expected, Kash handed her the final ensemble. When Isabel had seen Kash select it that morning, she had almost objected. She’d been afraid of wearing it out in public because she thought it far too immodest for their surroundings, too likely to cause ill will. So she was greatly relieved Kash had reserved it for a location where no one would see her. Nazim and Kash turned their backs while she quickly changed.