Around the World in 80 Men Boxed Set 31-35 (30 page)

*****

“
The
pain isn't completely gone,” Morgan sat up slightly to run her
hand over the raised area of her butt cheek, “but you were
right.... it's much better.” She also wanted to admit that the
food on the table had helped tremendously in helping her forget about
the stinging in her ass. Mustafa nodded as he began to plate their
meals. “What is it?” She looked at the rustic clay bowls
and instantly wanted them for her home, yet followed his hands as he
removed the lid to the first container.

“
This,”
he pointed to the large brown bowl in front of them, “is salad.
Chick pea, feta, and olive salad to be precise.” He grabbed a
large spoon and served a portion of the salad to Morgan. “And
this, he opened another container, “is Chicken Tajine. It's
made with ginger, cinnamon, sugar, pepper, almonds and fresh
watercress.” Morgan watched the stew like chicken dish get
placed beside her olive salad. “Of course, this is couscous.”
Morgan had seen the side dish before, which looked much like round
rice, but had never tried it. It too was placed on her plate. “And,
this is flat bread.” He handed her the warm round bread before
placing one beside his salad. “In your cup is mint tea, that's
what everyone drinks in Morocco. It's made from dried spearmint
leaves...and there's plenty of sugar here to sweeten it if you wish.”
His smile warned her not to complain about her drink, as he clearly
wanted the full experience of a Moroccan meal. “Baby fried
carrots, made in garlic, sugar, and it also has a little mint.”
Morgan looked down at the small orange vegetables, and smiled.
Carrots, she loved. “And for dessert, we have some fresh date
cookies that I'm sure you'll love.”

Morgan
took in the ethnic meal before her, wondering if it would taste as
wonderful as the aroma was promising. “Well... when in
Rome....” Mustafa laughed and began to tell her about the
invasion of the Romans, and how they had influenced much of the
Moroccan culture.

Morgan
brought the chicken to her lips and slowly slid it into her mouth.
“This,” she chewed more quickly, “is amazing!”
Her date laughed and Morgan took another bite. Mustafa pushed several
items onto his bread with his fingers and took a bite. Morgan
instantly realized that it was tradition to eat with your fingers,
and he had allowed her utensils to make her more comfortable. In
seconds, she dropped her fork and pushed the stew onto her bread, as
well as a bit of salad. It was even better than her first few bites.
“Everything is so good! Thank you, for all of this,” she
pointed to her plate and took another bite.

“
For
my part, you're welcome. But clearly, I had some help.” Morgan
laughed and wondered if the men at the camp, who took the Jeep, were
his helpers. However, she didn't even want to know and she was
already looking forward to whatever they would come up with in the
morning.

They
continued with small talk over the exceptional meal, and Morgan
learned more about cultural influences, up to an including, their
very meal. He explained that unlike most of Africa, Morocca grew
their own food to sustain its people, and they relied heavily on
seafood, lamb, and poultry. “Yeah, I guess there aren't many
cows around here.” Morgan giggled as she wiped her plate clean
with the last of her bread before leaning back in her small chair. “I
mean it, that was absolutely wonderful.” He nodded in thanks,
then handed her two small cookies, as promised, for desert.

“
How's
the...uh...”

“
My
ass is better, thank you.” Mustafa poured them both another cup
of tea, then excused himself from the table. Morgan smiled as she
looked to the sky, taking in as much as she could of the never ending
sparkling lights that danced in the blackness above. Her arms wrapped
around her body when the chill of the desert night tickled her bare
flesh. Mustafa returned as if on cue and wrapped a thick hand crafted
plaid blanket around her shoulders. “Oh... thank you.”
Clearly, he would be more aware of her needs far before she would.
“All of this is... just...wow.” Julianne would certainly
have insisted that Morgan expand her vocabulary with her clients, but
there truly were no other words that she could use.

“
Your
bed is ready if you're tired, Morgan.” Again, she loved hearing
her name from his lips. It was as exotic as her very surroundings.
“And don't worry, we'll only have sex this week if the mood
strikes us.” Morgan giggled, and appreciated his candor. She
nodded, as there was no need to dwell on a subject that was already
decided.

“
Then
I, good sir, will call it a night.” He nodded as a smile crept
across his features. Morgan noticed that he too looked as tired as
she felt. “Sleep well, Mustafa.”

*****

By
the time Morgan had passed out, Finlay was boarding his second flight
for the night. The layover in London hadn't been too bad, and it had
given him a minute to get his thoughts together and grab a quick bite
to eat. Unfortunately, his flights were all too short for a proper
meal, and all of the restaurants were closed. He was stuck with a
candy bar and some cheesy chips for dinner, but it would have to do.
He had also decided he was doing the right thing.
I'll just find
her hotel, shouldn't be hard. I just want te see ye, Love.
His
thoughts were interrupted by the sound of John's phone loudly ringing
next to him as they sat down in their seats.

“
Yeah?”
Finlay looked to the man as he answered the phone, but quickly got
back to getting his own things together. “Uh...” John
paused and looked at Finlay, just briefly. “Yeah. It's just,
now isn't a good time.”

That
caught Fin's attention, and he stopped fidgeting in his seat, hoping
to be nosy and add some excitement to his night.
Girl problems,
mate? I understand.
He could hear part of the other conversation,
and it definitely wasn't a woman. What was more concerning was what
he'd heard the other person say.

“
Shouldn't....hard.....you....Morgan.”
He couldn't hear all of the conversation, but he'd heard the name
that caught his attention.
Can't be. There are a million women
named Morgan.
“You know how she......Holland is.....”

Finlay's
fists gripped the armrests tightly as John nodded silently to the
person on the other side. It took every muscle in his body to remain
calm.
How do ye fookin' know Morgan?
Finlay knew as soon as
they landed, he could probably beat the information out of him, but
even then, it was risky. He remained quiet, and decided his best bet
would be to follow the man, and that's what he was going to do.

*****

“
Wake
up, ” Mustafa tried the gentle way of waking Morgan up...for
the third time.

“
No,”
Morgan mumbled into her pillow, and rolled away from the demanding
man. “I don't wanna.”

“
Is
there anything I could do to convince you to get up?” Mustafa
placed his knees on the bed, then his hands and crawled over to
Morgan. “Anything?”

His
voice was seductive, raspy. She could feel his breath on her skin and
she wiggled as a chill raised her flesh. “Nope.” She
smiled against her pillow, but didn't move.

“
Okay,
then. Guess I'll eat breakfast alone and head to the capital.”
Morgan heard the magic word, and finally lifted her head up. “She
lives?”

“
You
said something about food?” She rolled to her back and
instantly wished she hadn't. “Ow!” Her butt was still
tender, but nothing she couldn't deal with.

“
Here,”
Mustafa held out one of his hands to help Morgan to her feet and
handed her a glass of orange juice and two aspirin for her pain.

“
Thank
you.” Morgan took the offerings and moaned loudly when she took
a drink of the orange juice. “This is fresh!” Mustafa
smiled and waved an arm toward the table where it was clear, he had
made them fresh squeezed orange juice. There was also food on the
table, but Morgan couldn't be sure it was what she would typically
call breakfast. A few steps toward the food and her confusion rose.
“Bread, I know that,” she said pointing. “Is that
olive oil?” Mustafa nodded and Morgan did as well, although she
didn't quite understand. She knew of people dipping bread in oil, but
never as a breakfast dish.

“
You
can have jelly if you'd prefer. Bread and olive oil is very common
here. But so is jam, butter and cheese. Tea?” Morgan nodded and
mint tea was quickly set down in front of her.

“
So,
you said the capital? Rabat?” Mustafa laughed and nodded.

“
Close.
It's not rabbit though, Ra-bat.” He poured himself some tea and
sat down across from her. “You'll be doing a lot of walking
once we get there. Wear something comfortable.” He gave Morgan
a smile before grabbing some of the flat bread for himself.

“
Comfortable,
okay.” Morgan scraped off mint jelly and stuck it on her piece
of bread. The sun was beginning to peek its way into the tent and the
light quickly began warming her back. “Do you by chance have
sunscreen? And where else are we heading today?”

Mustafa
shook his head, smiling at the fact that Morgan wouldn't know one
area from another. Still, he answered her question. “Remlia
Well.”

*****

Finlay
had continued drinking all through the night, and by the time he
landed, the Scot was absolutely drunk. “Do you need some help,
finding a hotel?” John threw his backpack over his shoulder,
and put an arm under Finlay's when the large man staggered out of the
airport. “First of all, do you only have one bag?” Finlay
shook his head back and forth and laughed loudly.

“
I
have...”

“
Finlay,
was it? Do you have all of your bags?” John didn't have time to
babysit, but he did know that Finlay was his boss's best friend, and
he couldn't leave him like that.

“
Aye,
just this one. I have to go to the desert.” Finlay gave John a
pat on his back and motioned his arm forward, as if John was going to
lead him
to the desert.

“
I
think you need to find a hotel and sleep this off.” The sun was
bright, and the warmer it became as they walked down the street, the
more pale Finlay was becoming.

“
Aye.
Just take me to her hotel.” John knew without asking who he was
talking about, but there was no way the two could go find Morgan
together.

“
Right.
She's just this way, come with me.” John kept his arm around
Finlay's back as they walked the three small steps leading into the
nearest hotel. If he had to do it, he would buy Finlay's room for the
night, just to keep him occupied. “I'd like to get a room for
this man.” It took only five minutes, and the room was booked
for Finlay. “Here's your key.” John placed the key in
Finlay's hand and pointed toward the direction of the elevator. “Go
to the second floor. Room two-seventeen. Got it? That's your room.”

Finlay
nodded. “Aye. She's in there?”

John
took in a deep breath and ran a hand over his tired face. “Yep.
Go get her., mate.” He felt awful for lying to the man, but it
was better than the alternative. He watched Finlay press the button
to call the elevator several times, and when the doors finally
opened, he watched Finlay disappear inside. “Whew.”

John
had barely made it outside, when the realization hit Finlay. “Fookin'
hell. Whit am I doin' here? I need tae be following the wee bastard
tae Morgan!” He pulled his bag right back into the elevator and
back to the first floor and out of the hotel. A quick look around and
he saw John climbing into an all terrain vehicle. Finlay ran to catch
up, and just as it started to move, he jumped in, right alongside
John.

“
Mate,
what the fuck are you doing?”

“
Going
where ever the fook ye are.”

Chapter
Four

“
Why
are we goin' so fookin' fast!?' Finlay held tightly to the bar at his
side as the buggy left the ground over a small dune, just as it had
done dozens of times in the prior two hours. The driver ignored
Finlay's question, and John simply ignored the still-drunk Scot just
as he'd done all morning. “Where are we goin?” Another
shouted question was also ignored, and Finlay ran his arm under the
bar and held on for the remainder of the trip.