Her Desert Knight (3 page)

Quasar kept the conversation rolling with no apparent effort. They chattered about the lifestyle differences between Oman and America, and the bond deepened between them as they agreed that it was hard to move from one country to the other without severe culture shock.

“So you haven’t really lived in Oman at all.”

“I haven’t lived here permanently since my mom died. My dad packed Elan and me off to boarding school overseas. I was young enough to adapt easily. I never really looked back.”

“You didn’t miss your family.”

“I didn’t miss my father. He was very strict and kind of mean. I guess I’m not the type to get hung up looking for Daddy’s approval. I made friends and moved on.”

“And you’ve been moving on ever since.”

He turned to her. “You think my nomadic lifestyle is the result of childhood psychological trauma?” He sounded serious, but she saw a twinkle in his eye.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She wondered what depths lay beneath his cocky exterior. Was there a wounded little boy craving approval and love? “Where is home for you?”

He shot her a glance with those piercing blue eyes. “Good question. Until recently it was L.A., but I just sold my condo there. Right now the only place I own is a house out in the desert here. I don’t know if I’d call it home since I just had it renovated, but I bought it as a place to put down some roots and reconnect with my heritage, so maybe I’m heading in the right direction.”

“Or the wrong direction.” She laughed. “Do you really think Oman is your home now, or are you more comfortable in the United States? I feel more of a stranger here these days than I did in New Jersey. Moving around the world hasn’t made my life easier.”

“How did you end up in America when your family is still here?”

“My story’s not so different from yours. I was sent to live with my aunt in New Jersey when my mother died. The idea was that I would go to college there then come back and work in my father’s engineering firm while pursuing a suitable husband. I don’t think it occurred to my father that I could just switch majors and stay there.”

“Did he mind?”

“He went ballistic when I told him I wasn’t coming back to Oman. It took me a long time to pluck up the courage to admit that I’d majored in art history instead of engineering. Since I paid the bill myself with an inheritance from my mom he didn’t find out until it was too late.”

She saw a smile tilt the edge of Quasar’s mouth. “So you’re a bit of a rebel.”

“Only a very tiny bit.”

“I wonder.” He gave her a mysterious look.

She had been a rebel in choosing to chart her own course in life. The fact that she’d been blown right off it and ended up back here again made her wonder about her choices. She planned on sticking closer to the straight and narrow from now on. A degree in engineering certainly would present a lot more employment opportunities than her currently useless art history Ph.D.

“We’re nearly there. It’s called Saliyah, after my sister-in-law Celia, who designed the grounds and ensnared the heart of my brother Salim.”

“That’s so romantic.” They turned on to a side road in the desert. Spreading date palms cropped up to line the desolate road and cast lush shade over its dusty surface.

She gasped at the sight of a large animal underneath a nearby tree. “Look, a camel.”

Quasar laughed. “Salim’s always complaining about them. They eat his expensive landscaping. I figure he should just consider them part of the scenery and worth supporting. This place has been attracting a lot of visitors from overseas and they eat that stuff up.”

The road led up to a high mud-brick wall with an elaborately carved arch. They entered and drove around a large circular fountain, where moving water sparkled like diamonds in the hot midday sun. Quasar helped her out of the car and it was whisked away by a valet while she blinked and adjusted to the bright light. They walked across a smooth courtyard of inlaid sandstone into a shady lobby that looked like the throne room of an ancient palace. Colorful mosaics covered the walls and lush seating arrangements were clustered around impressive botanical specimens. The guests were an interesting mix of glamorous Omanis and other Arabs, their traditional garb accented with Chanel sunglasses and Fendi handbags, and chic Europeans showing a lot of carefully suntanned skin. Waiters served coffee and dates, and the scent of rose petals filled the air.

“Would you like some coffee, or do you want to get right to the good stuff?”

She glanced about, feeling awkward and out of place. She didn’t belong here among these stylish and confident members of the international elite. “I’d like to see the museum.”

“I suspected you would.” He shot her a smile that made her blood pump faster. “Follow me.” She walked across the elegant foyer, trying to keep her eyes from tracking the lithe roll of his hips in too obvious a manner.

Sexual magnetism radiated from him like an exotic scent. Women’s eyes swiveled to him from all directions, and it was all she could do not to glare at them. As if he were even hers to be jealous about! She felt their critical gaze on her, too. No doubt they wondered what a fine specimen of manhood like Quasar was doing with a mousy nobody like her.

Quasar led her out through a grand arch into a formal garden with a trickling fountain. Romantic-looking couples sat on upholstered sofas, chatting under the shade of the exotic plants. For an instant she imagined sitting there with him, just enjoying the afternoon. But he would hardly romance her in front of the employees at his brother’s hotel.

Was he attracted to her? It was hard to imagine that someone like Quasar, whom almost any woman—including the wealthy, beautiful, famous and brilliant—would find desirable, would be interested in her. But if he weren’t, why did he invite her here?

* * *

Quasar waited for her to pass him when they reached the path to the museum, but she hesitated, uncertain. “This is it.” He gestured at the carved wood door, almost hidden by flowering bushes.

Dani peered at the door with a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. Today she wore a traditional Omani getup in a rose shade that brought out the roses in her cheeks and lips. He hadn’t noticed yesterday what a mobile and sensual mouth she had. “It’s almost as if they didn’t want people to discover the treasures inside.”

“Maybe they don’t. I suspect they’re more interested in selling them expensive massages.” He smiled. “Let’s see if it’s open.”

He tried the handle. She played with her headscarf, almost nervous. What was she afraid of? Being alone with him in a cool, darkened room filled with antiques?

Hmm. If she knew his reputation she’d do well to be afraid. But she couldn’t know anything about him. They hadn’t exchanged last names.

He tried the brass handle and the door creaked open, sending a rush of air-conditioned air toward them.

The room was dimly lit, with spotlights shining down on a few key pieces, mostly ornately carved silver.

She walked right past those to some dull-colored pots displayed on a shelf against the far wall. “These are ancient,” she breathed, and she rushed forward to examine the closest one. “Two thousand years old at least. Back when this area was a pit stop along the Silk Road.”

The same color as the mud-brick walls, the pottery didn’t look that exciting to Quasar. Still, Dani’s exuberance was contagious.

“Everything here was found buried beneath the sand at the site. Celia says the oasis was in use for thousands of years.”

“Camel trains would come through Salalah before making the long trek up through the desert toward Jerusalem.” Dani wheeled around, and headed for a display case filled with silver jewelry. “Look at these pieces. They’re exquisite.”

He examined the big heavy silver bracelets and necklaces that were large enough to strangle a camel. “I bet they’re heavy.”

“I bet they’re not.” She smiled at him. “Some of them are hollow. You could store prayers in them for protection. Look at the carving on this one. It must have taken the craftsman weeks to make all those intricate designs.” She sighed. “We’re too busy these days to make anything so beautiful.”

“How come you don’t wear jewelry if you admire it so much?” He noticed for the first time that her ears were pierced, but unadorned by earrings.

“You don’t wear jewelry when you’re trying to disappear.” She flashed him a wry smile. “The ladies wearing these pieces wanted everyone to notice them.”

“And to gossip about how rich their daddies or husbands were, I suspect.”

“Absolutely.” She grinned. “I bet they enjoyed it, though.”

She moved over to a display of colorful clothing. “These aren’t antique.”

“Nope. Celia thought it would be a good idea to include them to celebrate our traditional clothing. Hardly anyone wears such bright colors these days.”

“They wanted to stand out against the dusty backdrop of the desert, like magnificent exotic birds. Maybe I should start wearing stuff like this myself?” She lifted a brow.

He laughed. “I can’t picture you in something that loud.”

“Me, either.” She sighed. “Truth be told, I prefer to disappear into the scenery. I suppose I always have.”

“Even before you were married?” He burned with curiosity to know more about her marriage, but didn’t want to jump the gun and scare her off by asking too much.

She nodded. “I guess I’m a wallflower at heart.”

“You could never hide against a wall, even though your dress today is a similar color to this rosy clay.” He picked up the end of her scarf and felt the soft fabric between thumb and finger. Desire stirred in him as he imagined lifting more of the fabric to discover what lay beneath.

Her breath quickened and he thought he saw her pupils dilate a little. The attraction between them was definitely mutual. She turned from him and hurried over to a shelf with a display of big brass serving platters. To him they looked like something he could buy in the souk this afternoon if he wanted. She seemed riveted by one of them, though. He moved right behind her, so he could almost feel the heat of her body in the cool air. She peered at the largest dish. “What a pretty scene. It looks like the Dhofar mountains. It’s quite unusual to depict something representational in the post-Islamic era—”

She turned to him, that glorious mouth still talking, and he fought an almost unbearable urge to kiss her.

He managed not to, though. Desire raced through him like fire along a line of gasoline and he tried hard to fight it back.
You just met her. You don’t know her
.

Heck, that had never stopped him before. The best way to get to know a girl was to become intimate right away. Let the chemistry mingle and see what kind of explosions happened.

Not this girl, though. Dani had been hurt, and he didn’t know the details. She was recovering from a bad marriage and the last thing she needed was to be seduced by a roving stranger who was only in town for a couple of weeks.

Well, he didn’t know how long he’d be here, but it wouldn’t be long. He was just visiting family and trying to figure out what to do next.

And all he wanted to do right now was kiss Dani.

Mercifully she’d moved away, and was examining a series of
khanjar
daggers hanging on the wall. Most of the sheaths were ornately carved silver, but she was bent over the least elaborate one. “This must be camel leather and camel bone. I suppose this is what they all looked like many centuries ago, when people carried them for use, not for ornamentation.”

Keep your dagger sheathed
, he commanded himself.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I told my brother I wouldn’t indulge in anything but conversation with you today. And I was just thinking that you’re making it very difficult.” He was nothing if not honest.

She looked startled for a moment, then regained her composure. “Why did you tell your brother that?”

“He’s worried about me embarking on an unsuitable romance. He doesn’t trust my judgment.”

“You’d better keep your distance. As an Omani he’s not going to approve of me since I’m divorced, so you can go ahead and think of me as off-limits.”

“What if that just makes me want you more?”

“Then you’re incorrigible.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to call me that. Actually you might. That’s a pretty unusual word.
Impossible
is a more popular choice.”

A smile tugged at the edges of her mouth. “An impossible man is the very last thing I need, so I think we can mutually agree to be platonic.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I think I just did.” She smiled and walked quietly over to a display of large, ornate coffeepots.

Dani wasn’t playing hard to get. She
was
hard to get. In fact kissing her might take the same amount of effort required to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. On the other hand, it might well be worth it, and he did enjoy a challenge.

Three

H
ow could a simple glance get her excited? Especially from someone who was an obvious playboy. He wouldn’t be this confident and flirtatious if he weren’t. He was exactly the kind of man she needed to stay away from. She shouldn’t be here at all. And when she looked at her watch, she realized she’d be lucky if she got back home in time. “I really do have to get back to Salalah now.” They’d been browsing in the museum for nearly two hours. She’d endured many exciting brushes against him as he leaned over a new oil jar or polished brass mirror to get a closer look. His scent filled her senses like an intoxicating drug. It was lucky he hadn’t made a move on her as she wasn’t at all sure how she’d react.

Like a junkie, probably.

“Of course. Let’s go.” He pushed the door open from behind her. “I have to admit that I thought of this stuff as a bunch of old junk last time I was here, but seeing the pieces through your eyes brings them back to life.”

Seeing herself through his eyes was bringing her back to life. When Quasar looked at her she almost felt as if he could see right through her billowing traditional attire to her body beneath. Her skin hummed with awareness of his interest in her. The desire racing along her veins shocked her, when she’d been so sure she’d never feel it again.

“I’d love to learn more about the history of the site.” She tried to distract herself from the mysterious sensations tingling in her blood. To focus on the unusual townlike layout of the resort, with its central oasis and native plantings.

“You need to talk to my sister-in-law—Celia. I know she did some research in order to plan the landscaping.”

Dani swallowed. She couldn’t imagine that he’d really introduce her to his family. They’d be bound to disapprove of her.

Quasar 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 animal that’s about to be eaten.”

“Eat or be eaten.” Quasar’s grip on her arm had softened into a sort of caress. “It’s the way of the world.”

His touch heated her skin. She was usually the one being eaten. “Do you really believe that? Isn’t there any middle ground?”

He looked amused. “I suppose so. I haven’t explored it myself.”

“Since I can’t imagine you being eaten, then I assume you’re used to being the one doing the devouring.”

He laughed. “Too right. I used to keep a falcon for hunting. Trained it myself. I’d spend hours out here tracking prey with it when I was a kid.” She shrank a little from his touch. His admitted predatory attitude should make her wary. “But don’t be afraid. I won’t eat you.”

“No?” She looked up into his face. His dark blue eyes were soft, curious.

“No.” The high midday sun illuminated his aristocratic features. Of course he wouldn’t be interested in devouring her. Obviously she’d been out of circulation too long to think that a man as magnificent and confident as Quasar would be interested in her.

“Maybe just a tiny bite.” His wide, sensual mouth hitched slightly. Something strange was happening in her belly. It was the way he looked at her, like he held her in his grasp. She couldn’t look away. His face was moving closer, his sparkling eyes still fixed right on hers. She could smell his musky, masculine scent. Any minute now she’d feel the roughness of his skin....

His lips met hers in a rush, like the eagle falling on its prey. Far from diving for cover, her mouth rose to his and melded with it. Sensation crashed over her. She was dimly aware of their natural surroundings—the wind in the trees, animals scurrying nearby—and of his hands resting warmly at her waist, but her whole being focused on the kiss and the powerful and intense effect it created in her body. Heat flooded her core, spreading out to her limbs, squeezing the breath from her lungs as she gave herself over to the sensation. She’d never experienced a kiss like this. Chemistry, was it? Or was it that she’d never kissed a man as gorgeous and dashing as Quasar. Either way the effect was overwhelming.

She had no idea how long they kissed, but when they finally pulled apart and she opened her eyes, she found herself blinking against now-unaccustomed daylight. “Oh, dear.” The words spilled out. The intense sensations pouring through her had sparked her to life in a way that seemed dangerously familiar. She hadn’t felt this way since the early days of her marriage, when she was so sure that love could solve any problem, if she could just find a way.

She’d been wrong.

Quasar gave an amused frown. “‘Oh, dear?’ That’s not the effect I intended.”

She sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to fan herself. “It’s just that I haven’t...I’m not used to...I didn’t think...” She didn’t know what she was trying to say. Had she really come here to watch the birds? She was old enough to know better than to accompany a gorgeous man into the wilderness if she couldn’t keep her wits about her.

Her heart fluttered in her chest, the emotions that she thought she’d abandoned back in the States scaring her. Her conviction that from now on she’d live a sensible life, free of passion and drama, had all but deserted her. Right now she wanted nothing more than to kiss Quasar again.

Which was a terrible idea. He was only here for a couple of weeks, tops. He’d made no further mention of introducing her to his family. For him this was just a diverting vacation fling. If she could enter into this with that spirit it would be fine, but she couldn’t. “We should go.”

* * *

Quasar felt his smile fade. Just moments ago Dani had been one with him, lost in a delicious and enthralling kiss. Now she shrank from him, her muscles stiffening. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. That was a sensational kiss but I’ll behave myself from now on if you prefer.”

The countryside hummed with life that echoed in his body. A soft breeze tossed Dani’s hair and arousal kissed her cheeks with pink. The secluded natural setting, high up above the world, was the perfect place for a little impromptu lovemaking.

But something told him that wasn’t going to happen.

Dani’s lips had tightened into a white line. “I need to get home.”

What had changed? She’d warmed to the kiss instantly, and enjoyed it as much as he. She was giving back as much as he gave the entire time. They’d kissed for a full three or four minutes! Part of him wanted to seize her in his arms and kiss her again, so they could jump right back into that world of passion.

But he could tell that would be a terrible idea. “What’s the matter?”

She shook her head, blinked. She inhaled as if to speak, then didn’t.

“Is it that we don’t know each other well enough?”

“Yes.” She spoke fast, obviously glad of a way to respond. “But it’s not just that.”

“We can get to know each other slowly.” He took her hand and squeezed it. It felt cold, and tightened in his grasp.