Red-Hot Desert Docs. Carol Marinelli
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were silver and tiny and he could see the dark blond hair peeking out the top.
And Adele could see him hard beneath black silk.
She looked at his solid chest and broad shoulders. With this kiss their skin would make first contact. She lowered her head to taste his broad muscled chest.
‘Don’t waste your one kiss there,’ he said.
His voice was gravelly and thick with desire and Adele felt as if hands had closed around her throat because she was struggling to breathe.
He moved her so that her back was to the wall and as she went to reach for him he took her wrists and raised them so that they were above her head and then he held them against the wall. He looked at the lift of her breasts and how she was shaking with arousal.
‘You’re presumptuous,’ Adele accused, and he smiled a slow smile.
‘I am.’
He restrained her yet his own restraint was gone and he kissed her so hard that their teeth clashed.
One kiss, which made Adele twist against the restraint of his hands as she fought for her chance to hold him and drag him in.
He denied it.
One kiss, where their chests finally met, and she wanted to move her mouth just to taste his shoulder but that would break the deal of one kiss.
Her breasts flattened against him as he crushed her.
His erection slid against her stomach and she wanted it lower. He just bored into her and, with a craving for more contact, with nothing else for it, she attempted to hook her leg around him, but he widened his stance so that her foot dropped to the floor.
But now he was lower.
His tongue moved with the same motion as his groin and it was still one kiss but it had been spiced with dynamite.
Her jaw ached with tension and that tension slid to her neck and raced down her spine. Her thighs pressed together and Adele was rocking her groin into him. As she started to shudder he released her hands.
She held him between them as she came, and he felt the rip of tension and the stilling of her tongue, the slight squeal that he swallowed as she gripped him hard.
And it was still just one kiss as he silvered her palm and fingers and Adele felt him hot on her stomach as they pressed into each other.
Then he kissed her back but not to reality, for that was lost to her now.
And then he was gone.
ADELE SHOWERED AND put on the little muslin robe and, quite simply, she crashed.
She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and yet woke with instant and absolute recall and with a curious absence of guilt.
She just lay listening to the hum of the plane and tried to understand how she was feeling.
It was disorientating.
Not just that she was on the way to a strange land but the might of his want and the rage of her desire.
There was no compass, no goalpost, no promises made, other than that he would ask the desert for solution.
Adele got out of bed and looked out of the window and there below her were the golden orange sands that Zahir would be communing with soon.
‘I’d like the solution too,’ she said, not quite tongue in cheek, because it was so vast and so endless that she first glimpsed its power.
She dressed in the pretty coral robe and put on her jewelled slippers and then looked at her reflection in the mirror on the door.
Adele barely recognised herself—not just her clothes, she should surely be on her knees in guilt and shame.
Yet she smiled.
Her intercom buzzed and she was informed that the Queen was awake and would like some assistance.
Adele knocked and went in and then blinked in surprise when she saw that Leila was in the bathroom, relaxing in a deep bath with taps made of gold.
There were bubbles up to her neck and she smiled as Adele came in.
‘I didn’t know you could have baths on a plane,’ Adele admitted.
‘You can have anything,’ Leila said. ‘The maid ran it for me, though I do need your help to get out.’
Adele helped her to step out and once Leila was dry Adele checked her wounds. There were three small ones from the laparoscopic procedure and all looked dry and healthy.
‘I still have trouble with the stairs,’ Leila admitted.
‘It’s quite a big operation,’ Adele said. ‘I think you’re doing very well.’
‘I am a bit nervous to go home,’ Leila admitted as Adele helped her to dress. ‘My husband has been so concerned. We’ve never been apart for so long and of course he is cross that I never told him I was having surgery. My husband is such a...’ She stopped herself from saying anything more.
‘You can talk to me,’ Adele said. ‘I would never break your confidence.’
‘Even with Zahir?’
‘Especially with Zahir,’ Adele said. ‘You’re my patient and he’s not your doctor, he’s your son. If I have any concerns I would speak with Mr Oman.’
‘My husband is very stubborn and Zahir wants to make changes,’ Leila said. ‘Maybe I am worrying over nothing. I am a bit weepy. It says in the leaflet to expect to be.’
She handed the leaflet to Adele and she read it as the Queen spoke.
‘I don’t have to worry about not doing housework or heavy lifting,’ Leila said.
‘And no intercourse for six weeks,’ Adele added.
She would not avoid subjects just because Leila was a queen.
‘Poor Fatiq.’ Leila smiled and then she surprised Adele. ‘Poor me. I do think six weeks is a bit excessive.’
Adele remembered her time in training and often the women would joke that they’d consider it a little holiday, or ask if the doctor could change it to ten weeks instead.
No wonder the Al Rahal brothers came with reputations. It would seem that the whole family was highly sexed.
‘I hate sleeping alone.’ Leila pouted.
‘You can still share a bed.’ Adele smiled but Leila shook her head.
‘We have to sleep separately till I am healed. It was the same when I had my babies.’
Oh, no, Adele thought. At the time they must have needed each other most they had been apart.
‘Once I am home I shall meet with the healer,’ Leila told Adele. ‘I’m sure I will feel brighter then.’
The Queen had selected a gown in a very deep shade of fuchsia and for someone who had just had surgery she looked stunning.
‘I am going to do my make-up,’ Leila told Adele, ‘and then I’ll be out.’
Adele sat in her seat and breakfast was served. She watched as Leila came out and took a seat at the gleaming table and then she turned her head and smiled.
And Adele fought not to.
It was Zahir.
As he walked past she quickly averted her eyes and looked out at the ocean.
He was wearing black robes and a keffiyeh that was tied with a rope of silver.
She looked again and saw that his feet were strapped in leather and that he was holding a scabbard that contained