Her Desert Knight. Jennifer Lewis
Читать онлайн книгу.led her past the bubbling fountain and back through the spacious, open hotel lobby.
“What a lovely place.”
“Very profitable, too, apparently. It got recommended in Condé Nast Traveler almost as soon as it opened and it’s been booked solid ever since.”
“Tourism will be good for the Omani economy. It’s important to diversify. The oil won’t last forever.”
“Too true. I should probably be paying more attention to business opportunities while I’m here. Usually that’s foremost on my mind, but I seem to be a little distracted.” His flashing glance made something ripple inside her.
A valet had Quasar’s car ready before they even reached the main entrance. Quasar opened the door for her himself, a thoughtful gesture that touched her. She told him about her Ph.D. thesis as they sped back across the desert.
“Persian painting, huh? Aren’t some of those erotic?”
“Absolutely. Some were even intended as instruction in the art of lovemaking.”
“Have you tried following the instructions?”
She laughed. “No. That would not have been my ex-husband’s style at all. He didn’t like being told what to do.” Sex with Gordon had been very wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. At first she’d enjoyed it anyway for the sheer physical pleasure and the emotional connection she thought she’d felt. Later it had become just another wearing encounter with him that she wanted to avoid.
“I wonder if it’s worth attempting.”
“If what is?” She’d got lost in unhappy memories about her marriage, staring through the windshield at the bare, brown desert.
“Following the advice in the erotic paintings.” He shot a dangerous glance that made her stomach quiver.
“I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” She lifted a brow.
“Is that an invitation?” She saw that smile tug at his mouth.
“Not even slightly.” Her body begged to differ. In fact he had quite literally brought her dormant libido back to life. She didn’t think she’d ever be attracted to a man again after the depressing downward spiral of her only serious relationship. For two years now she’d felt nothing, until Quasar had looked at her in that bookshop. As they talked, she’d sensed her body literally switching back on, like an electrical circuit that had been disconnected for a while and was now plugged back in so current could flow through it. Right now it was flowing to all kinds of nooks and crannies she’d all but forgotten.
She watched his long, elegant fingers resting on the wheel, and wondered what they’d feel like on her skin. Good thing she was too sensible to find out. Her reputation was already in tatters and she certainly wasn’t going to rush headlong into another unsuitable relationship. A glance at the dashboard clock made her nervous. “Will we really be back by four?”
She felt the car surge forward as he accelerated. “If it can be done, I’ll do it.”
“Let me guess, that’s your personal motto.”
He flashed those slate-blue eyes at her. “You’re not so far wrong. Lately I’ve been thinking it might be time for me to slow down, though. There may be some things I can leave undone.”
Like seducing me. “You plan to become more selective as you mature.”
“Exactly. At this point I think I should focus on only the very best.”
“Business opportunities?”
He took his eyes off the road again and kept them on hers for far too long. After an agonizing interval that heated her blood almost to the boiling point, she glanced nervously out the windshield, half afraid they’d driven right off the narrow strip of tarmac.
“Among other things.” When he finally looked back at the long, empty road—not a moment too soon—her heart was pounding and her lips parted. The effect he had on her was a little frightening.
“But how do you know something is the very best until you try it?” She wanted to fill the air with conversation. Right now the thoughts in her brain and the sensations in her body were making her very uncomfortable.
“I have a lifetime of experience. Enough to be something of a connoisseur.” He spoke softly, and glanced at her quickly this time. Just long enough to convince her that he was completely serious.
She believed him. The desert swept past, and they climbed into the lush mountains again. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I can’t believe how beautiful it is up here. This is the first time I’ve come to the mountains in years. My dad and brothers have no interest in nature.”
“Let’s come back tomorrow.” He said it casually, and didn’t even look at her. “I’ll bring some binoculars and we can look for birds.”
No. Just say no. You can’t do this. Going out with a strange man a second time—or would it be the third, if she counted that cup of coffee?—would confirm that they were having some kind of...relationship. She wouldn’t call it an affair since there was nothing sensual or romantic about it, except in her mind.
Her mouth wouldn’t form the simple rejection. If she said no she’d probably never see Quasar again. That would be very sensible but the prospect was too depressing to contemplate. There’d be nothing but dull days at home, cooking the same familiar dinners, tidying her bare room, broken up with occasional walks to the bookshop and the fruit stalls. Possibly a frighteningly unattractive suitor would take pity on her from time to time. Since she didn’t have any kind of promising escape plan, who knew how long that might go on for? “Okay.”
He turned to her with an expression of surprise.
“You thought I’d say no.”
“I did.”
She loved that he didn’t lie. “Apparently I’m more reckless than you thought.”
“I like that in a woman.” His wicked grin hinted at trouble to come. And strangely enough, she was starting to look forward to it.
* * *
The next morning she dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Considering she’d worn little else for all her years in the United States, it was odd how daring it felt to don them. When she returned, her father had told her she should wear conservative clothing and conduct herself like an Omani woman, and—grateful for the chance to stay here—she’d obeyed. They were only clothes, right? She quickly adapted to covering her arms and legs, and her hair—the way she’d been taught as a child.
But dressing in Western clothing again was liberating and felt right. She did don a cover-up and headscarf before Quasar showed up, but she shed them in the car with relief and enjoyed Quasar’s admiring gaze on her body-hugging jeans and T-shirt.
Driving up into the lush green mountains with a handsome man, Dani felt a sense that anything was possible, something she hadn’t experienced since her college days. They parked and walked along a wooded trail as thick with leaves and scents and life as any trail in the New Jersey woodlands. It amazed her that during this season, paradise existed right here in her arid homeland. In a way it proved that anything was possible—anywhere—with a little rain and mist to break up the relentless heat and sun that scorched most of Oman into a virtual wasteland.
“A steppe eagle.” Quasar stopped and grabbed her arm. He pointed high in a tree where a magnificent bird looked posed, as if it sat on an ancient Egyptian frieze. “It’s seen something.”
The bird stayed frozen for a few moments, then dropped like a rock toward land, before swooping up on broad, flapping wings with some small creature in its mouth.
“It caught its prey. What a magnificent sight.” Dani peered after it as it perched on a branch nearby. “Though I can’t help but feel bad for the