“You ready?” Dominic asked, holding out a hand for her to pull her to her feet. She draped the veil over her head and face, and then they left their tent.
The temperature had dropped ever so slightly; the sun was far closer to the western horizon now than when they had arrived, and life was picking up in the tent village. They went to the square at the centre of the village, where an array of low tables had been put up, surrounded by rugs and cushions for them to sit on. Dominic took her hand as they approached the Sheik. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Mickey, whose mouth twitched a little. Rose glared at him to shut up. She really needed to talk to him about Dave to make sure that there were no misunderstandings.
“I am very happy that you are here with us tonight. Please, enjoy everything we have on offer,” the Sheik said, gesturing for them to sit.
Although the makeshift square was sheltered by the tents the wind was blowing fiercely and Rose had to tuck her veil in very firmly to make sure it stayed in place. Thankfully, one of the Sheik’s wives told her that as a guest she didn’t need to cover her face. Breathing was easier that way, but Rose also noticed that the wind blew the sand into her face. Thoughts of a sand storm crossed her mind, images of the one in The English Patientpopped up in front of her inner eye. The idea of being stuck here, buried beneath sand, wasn’t a pleasant one, and she quickly wiped it away like a cobweb. Those were just stories.
Throughout the evening Dominic stayed close to her, and if she was honest, she felt safer for it. Mickey would be first to rescue her, of course, but since they had established the story of her being Mrs Henley, she felt a lot better. With her pale complexion and the odd lock of blonde hair stealing from beneath her veil, she felt very much like a curiosity to the otherwise very friendly people.
After a delicious dinner of roast meat and steamed couscous the Bedouin brought out their instruments, they spent the evening exchanging stories, which Rose translated, while enjoying the music and dance. The inky cold of the desert night was locked out by a circle of torches and braziers arranged around their sitting area, in the midst of which they had lit a fire. Rose was content to watch the embers burst, yellow and orange, into the night sky as if they wanted to join the white and distant stars.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dominic asked, leaning closer towards her.
“Yes.”
“Do you know any of the constellations?”
Rose looked at him. She had learned about quite a few of them when she had travelled with the Doctor and she could show them to Dominic. The sky above them wasn’t any different than the one of her original universe; it was something that had always offered her some solace. “Do you?”
“Everything looks different here. I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many stars. It’s beautiful.”
“The air is much clearer here than it is back home,” Rose said. She squinted. “Although... What’s that?” She pointed at the horizon above the tents, where the sky seemed to move.
One of the Bedouin who had followed her gaze jumped and yelled, “Sandstorm!”
Rose paled. “What?”
“There’s a sandstorm coming. Look!”
The music and chatter died down immediately and the party broke up as people jumped up, busying themselves gathering all their things to take them to the safety of their tents. Someone ushered Rose and Dominic to their tent, giving them hurried instructions of what they had to do. Basically, it was ensuring their tent flap was closed firmly and wrapping themselves in as many layers of clothing or blankets as possible and keep some water ready.
Semimnan and Aquiouk exchanged panicked glances with Rose and Mickey. “You should switch off your shimmers during the storm, just to be on the safe side. Don’t worry, no one will come into your tent, and even if they did, make sure to wrap yourselves in blankets and put on your sunglasses. No one will be the wiser,” Rose reassured them. She was back again to thinking on her feet.
Before either of them could say anything else they had reached their tents. The Bedouin assigned to their care urged them inside and secured the flap tightly. The wind was already tearing at the material and Rose envisioned them buried beneath the heavy dark cloth and a layer of sand once the storm was over.
Some of the sand had found its way beneath her linen tunic and even her bra and it was chafing, particularly the tender scar tissue on her back. She would have liked to take off her clothes and run herself a bath because she felt like a child who had spent the day playing in the sand box, but with Dominic around and the storm outside that wasn’t an option.
“Are you all right?” Dominic asked.
“Yeah,” she replied distractedly.
“Don’t be... alarmed.”
“I’m not.”
“But you’re in discomfort,” he said.
“The sand is everywhere,” Rose said, sighing. “It’s particularly bad on my back. Where the scars are.”
“You’re hot,” he said, and when he noticed her shocked expression, added, “as in sweaty. You should take a sponge bath and dry off properly. That way the sand won’t stick to your skin as much.”
Rose had to admit that he had a point. “But we need the water to drink.”
“There’s enough to water an army,” Dominic said. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
Rose hesitated.
“It’s not as if I haven’t seen you naked before.”
“But then I was your patient,” Rose pointed out.
“And now?”
“You tell me.”
Dominic sighed. “I like you, Rose. A lot.”
Rose slumped inwardly as well as literally. “I like you too, Dominic. But I’m... interested in another man.”
“Oh. Well.” Dominic said. “Then let’s make sure he gets you... back in one piece.”
Rose was stunned. “You aren’t mad?”
“Not mad, no. Disappointed. But I’m glad you’re still my friend. Assuming that we can be friends?”
“It’s a bit... awkward, but yes, why not,” Rose said, still stunned by his acceptance.
“You’re... well,” he began, clamping his mouth shut to gather his thoughts. “You’ve been very distant. Not in a bad way, but I know that expression. And who am I to try to win a woman’s heart when she’s given it to someone else?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Story of my life.”
“Now I really am sorry.”
“Rose, please. I don’t want your pity. I’m glad you’re my friend. I should have... Well, anyway. My offer stands.”
“Thank you.” Rose hugged him, and, on impulse, kissed his cheek. “I’d love you to be my friend.”
She took off her veil, her tunic and her bra. The latter came off with a sigh of relief. Dominic, who had moved to kneel behind her, shone the lantern they had been given on her back to assess the damage. “Your scars look a bit raw,” he said, crouching to be able to see better. He put the lantern on the low table beside them and moved Rose so he could see her scars and treat her at the same time. “I’m afraid all I can do at the moment is clean the wounds a bit and make sure they’re dry.”
“Wounds!” Rose said in alarm.
“It isn’t that bad, but I suggest you don’t put on any clothes for a while,” he said.
Rose snorted.
“I am your doctor, Rose.”
She wanted to say that no, he wasn’t. No one was her doctor beside the Doctor, but she bit her tongue. “All right.”
He took one of the water bottles with which they had been provided and started to pour the water down her back bit by bit. Although the water wasn’t that cold Rose jumped a little as the liquid ran down her skin and bled into the waist of her linen trousers. Dominic used his hankie to daub her skin, just pressing it to her back instead of rubbing it. The comparatively cool water started to feel good and Rose relaxed under his professional ministrations.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning her head so she could look over her should
er. He looked up briefly. “If we’d met a few weeks earlier...”
“Bad timing, hmm?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I just hope your man knows just how lucky he is.”
They were silent for a while.
“Thank you,” she said. “For being so... adult about this.”
He patted her skin dry with her veil. “There, all done.”
“And now?”
“Now you try to get some sleep.” He handed her the tunic. “Sorry, no bra. Just to make sure you’ll be all right. If we were in Glasgow I’d put some salve and a dressing on you.”
“Doctor’s orders, eh?”
“Yep.”
“Are we good, Dominic?” Rose asked as they lay down. Rose felt strangely naked just in her tunic. They had dragged the bedding to the centre of the tent to avoid the worst of the storm. Although the material of the tent was tough, Dominic insisted that they not take any risks.
“Yeah. I’d have been incredibly lucky to find a woman like you still being single. I’ll get over it.”
“Good.” Rose reached out to squeeze his hand.
“So, how did you two meet?”
“He saved my life,” Rose said, and then began to tell him the story of how Dave and she had met. Outside, the sandstorm had reached the Bedouin village and was tearing at the dark material of the tents, making the guy lines sing. The din was unbelievable, and if the movement of sand over sand had been a gentle rushing sound earlier it had now swollen to a howl. Rose didn’t let go of Dominic’s hand as they lay side by side. She was glad she had a story to tell him to distract herself from the images that had popped into her mind earlier that evening. They would be all right.
Chapter 17
Rose busied herself in the kitchen. Until that night she hadn’t used it for much other than warming up some take-away or whipping up some pasta. She’d never been much of a cook, but since she’d met Dave an urge to please him, to care for him, had taken hold of her. The independent, I-don’t-do-domestic side of her, the one she’d inherited from the Doctor, her first one, scoffed a bit at it, but she could also see her second Doctor’s eyes soften at the idea. That was who she was. Self-confident and strong, yet she also had a nurturing side that made her want to pamper him. It pleased her, reassured her.
She hadn’t ever really set the kitchen up properly, making sure that things were within reach when she needed them, but she’d managed to make do for this meal. Glad for a moment to flit back to the hot room to get the dessert, she leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. So far, the evening had gone very well. She had braised beef in red wine and made one of her favourites, potato gratin, as a side dish. The meat had been very tender, the sauce rich and velvety, the wine complimented by an outrageous variety of spices. It hadn’t been complicated to put together, which was what had pleased her so much about the meal.
Best of all, Dave had closed his eyes as he’d tasted the meat and sauce for the first time, humming his appreciation after a few heartbeats that had left Rose anxious. It would have been horrible if the meal hadn’t turned out the way she’d hoped, or if he didn’t like it.
But. The way to this man’s heart, she’d found it.
“I had no idea you were such a fantastic cook,” he’d said in awe.
“Beginner’s luck,” she’d demurred, lowering her gaze to her plate.
She’d left him in the next room; the doors separating the dining room from the kitchen were wide open, but he was out of her sight. Rose drew in a deep breath. She couldn’t just tell him that she loved him. It was far too early for that, too much too soon. Since her return from the desert all she’d been able to think of was that she loved him. She didn’t just want to be with him. She loved him.
“Hey,” he said, stepping just inside the kitchen door. “Are you all right?” He took a few steps towards her, stopping by the counter in the centre of the room, where the gas stove was. His eyes drifted to the small saucepan and the sieve with the dead vegetables; she’d had to braise them with the meat and squeeze as much liquid as possible out of them for the sauce. They were now but a brownish pulp.
Flustered, Rose pushed herself away from the counter. “Yeah.” The word came out as an embarrassing little squeak.
“Can I help you with anything?” His eyes travelled to the disaster area around the stove and to the counter where she’d stacked the plates.
Rose realised that she could hardly send him back to the dining room. He’d been there all by himself far too long, and she’d probably upset him because of that. She gestured at her French press. “You could make coffee. If you want.”
He eyed the contraption. “Ah. I’m afraid I don’t know how to use it.”
Rose smiled. “I didn’t want you to see this mess. On the other hand,” she said, opening the fridge to get out the strawberries and mascarpone cream she’d made, “it’s perfect proof that I really prepared dinner.”
Dave chuckled. “Don’t worry, my kitchen doesn’t look any better after preparing dinner.”
“I’ll clean that up later. Why don’t you go to the lounge and light the candles while I get our drinks?” Rose said, pressing her tumbler into his hand. When she looked up again she saw his eyes riveted on her. They were very dark and her heart skipped a beat.
Dave leaned down to her, stopping close enough to her face for his fringe to tickle her forehead. She tilted her head up and to the side a fraction, inviting him to close the distance, and then he was kissing her. It was just a brush of his lips against hers, the pressure gentle, but Rose felt pleasure course through her at once and pool low in her stomach. It was over quickly.
“Aye,” Dave said as he withdrew, his eyes heavy-lidded. He put down the two glasses and bent down for another kiss, drawing her towards him with his hands on her waist. Rose let him, and when they kissed this time, he became more bold and ran the tip of his tongue along her lips to beg entry. This was new and irresistible. Rose opened up beneath him, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his neck. His tongue was surprisingly wet and soft against hers, carrying the rich taste of red wine. She sucked on him briefly, then she let him explore her mouth, moaning softly to encourage him.
He was gentle at first, unsure of what to do. He was a wonderful kisser, though, intent on not demanding too much from her. Rose reminded herself that he had kissed the same woman for a long time and that he had yet to find out what pleased her. She brushed her tongue against the underside of his to coax him along, to fill her and taste her. And he did.
Eventually, they broke apart for some air, and he smiled at her. Rose slid her hands from his neck to his shoulders and to his chest. He was reassuringly warm, and his single heart was hammering against his ribs.
“Sofa,” she managed to say.
He nodded dazedly and picked up the two tumblers. Before he went to the lounge, however, he stole another kiss.
Rose used the time to compose herself a little. She needed to slow this down considerably. Kissing was all right, but she knew that anything further would just be rushed and, therefore, wrong, no matter how much she wanted it right then. When she joined Dave in the lounge he had lit all the candles, but he hadn’t sat down yet. He took his glass of wine from her and clinked it carefully to hers.
They sipped their wine and Rose sat on the sofa, tucking one leg beneath her. Dave sat down facing her, nervously playing with his wine glass. The deep red of the drink sparkled between his pale fingers like rubies as the candle light caught it.
“I...” he began eventually. “That was wonderful.”
“Yes, it was.”
He raised his eyes to hers. “I’ve missed you, Rose. I wanted to call you.”
Her pulse quickened again. “’S work rules, Dave. Nothing personal. Vitex business generates a lot of interest and we don’t want to encourage that. I would have loved you to be there with me, though.”
Dave lowered his eyes to his wine glass, then raised them again. “I’ve b
een thinking, Rose. About us. We should take it slowly. No matter how we feel — don’t say anything, please. I think we should give ourselves some time to adjust. It hasn’t been that long since, well, our losses, and I... I don’t want to betray Rita. It’s funny it feels like that. I suppose I have to learn to love you both—”
Rose’s eyes went wide at his speech. She hadn’t expected him to say so clearly what she was already thinking. She reached out to cup his jaw and brushed her thumb over his smoothly shaven cheek. “I like the sound of that,” she said.
Bigger on the inside: Space, Time Travel, Alien Criminals (A Space Time Travel Mystery Book 1) Page 18
