Master of the Desert

‘What?’ Saif demanded sharply. ‘What do they say about the ruling sheikh?’

From the look on his face, she had over-stepped some unseen boundary. Rolling onto her stomach, she laced her hands beneath her chin, sensing diplomacy was urgently required. ‘Surely you know him better than I do?’

‘Maybe,’ he admitted.

‘Aren’t you allowed to be rude about him?’

‘I can be as rude as I like—but I don’t like,’ Saif said pointedly, flashing a warning glance her way.

‘I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend you. I just heard he was fierce, that’s all.’

Rolling onto her back, she hoped she’d done enough to placate him. She really hadn’t meant to offend him. ‘Shall we have pudding now?’ she suggested, hoping to break the sudden tense silence.

‘Pudding?’

She only needed the smallest encouragement. ‘Yes—then it will be like a proper picnic.’ She sprang up and ran back to the boat, emerging minutes later with more blankets under her arm, determinedly swinging the cool box. Smoothing out rugs well clear of the water’s edge, she lifted the lid on her treasure trove—ice-cold drinks, together with fat green olives and the sweet dates she’d found in Saif’s galley. ‘I told you I could be useful,’ she said when he complimented her on the spread.

They ate in silence, but at least it wasn’t a hostile silence. It was more of a rebalancing exercise, Antonia concluded.

‘What are you doing now?’ he demanded as she stared up at the moon.

His voice made her tingle, made her want to stretch out her hands to feel the cooling surf on her racing pulse. She concluded it was best to tell him the truth—or at least an edited version of it. ‘I was just thinking I’ve had quite a day, what with the pirate attack, swimming through a storm and now you.’

‘I see your point,’ he agreed dryly, but just when she’d been sure they were making real progress he sprang up and walked away.

He had to put distance between them. It had been a long time since he had wanted a woman so badly. In fact, he couldn’t remember wanting anyone as much as this girl. It was the ambience, he reasoned, pausing at the water’s edge. There was nothing like a desert night to stir the senses.

He shook his head with amusement when she called, ‘Wait for me!’

Nothing fazed her. And he wanted to wait for her, which prompted the question: when was the last time he had waited for anyone? ‘I’m going for a swim, Tuesday—you stay here.’ He dipped into the traditional Sinnebalese salutation before wheeling away. But the image of her nibbling dates with her small white teeth was still with him.

She was still feasting on the dates when she caught up with him. There was no artifice about her. She was hungry; they were on a beach, and she was eating to fill her stomach and not to impress him with finicky ways. She had a healthy appetite. He refused to dwell on that thought any longer than was necessary.

‘Sorry,’ she gulped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘You really shouldn’t swim so soon after eating, Saif.’

She was giving him advice now? ‘Is that so? And what do you think you are doing now?’ She was staring at the sky and waving her arms around, doing some sort of dance he found both innocent and seductive.

‘I’m invoking the moon.’

‘Of course you are,’ he agreed wryly. ‘And why are you doing that?’

‘Don’t laugh at me, Saif. For all you know, I’m a handmaiden of the moon.’

‘And I’m a camel. Man jadda wajad wa man zara’a hasad.’

‘Oh, that’s lovely!’ she exclaimed. ‘What does it mean?’

His gaze slipped to her lips as she repeated the words after him in Sinnebalese. ‘He who perseveres finds,’ he translated. ‘And he who sows harvests—’

‘Perfect,’ she interrupted dreamily. ‘It could have been written for me.’

‘Then you’d better remember it, and I’ll test you tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’ Her face lit up and then became carefully expressionless again.

‘We won’t be sailing any time soon,’ he confirmed, glancing at the sky.

‘Great!’ she exclaimed. ‘Lots more time to dance.’

That wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. ‘You’re crazy.’

As was the surge of desire he felt. She might be younger than him, but she warmed him with her joie de vivre, and it was hard not to smile at her antics. She drew him to her as no one ever had before, and he wasn’t fighting it. Instead of wanting solitary time alone in the sea, he wanted Tuesday. ‘Have you ever caught a fish?’ he said, guessing that was a challenge she would find hard to refuse.