But I already suspect this marriage has potential, more than just a contract tying two strangers together. We need time, time to explore the implications and possibilities. For the first time in my life, I want to get to
know
a woman, to understand what makes her tick. And then there’s this alien feeling that blossoms inside me when I think of her body swelling with my child, the sense of pride I feel at the thought of my seed taking root in her womb.
What the fuck am I thinking?
I never saw myself as father material, but a son or daughter, part of her, part of me; that’s what I’m supposed to do, and I find I’m not averse to the idea: far from it. But Cara has had so much to deal with in her life and now, being uprooted and planted in the desert ... I’d like some time to get to know her, and allow her room to adjust to her new life before complicating it with anything else. Palace dictates be damned.
After reaching the summit the path winds downwards, gradually coming out on to a small plain. Amal can smell the grass and starts to trot, but I pull him up, laughing as he stamps his feet in impatience.
“Whoa there, boy. Wait.” The increase in pace has bounced Cara awake. I bend my head and kiss her gently. “Come on, sleepyhead. Wake up, we’re here.” I sit her up in my arms, and slowly let her slide off the horse, reaching over to hold her until she steadies herself. I watch her face, knowing she sees the valley we have ridden to, and the sparkling river that flows through it. Instead of the stark desert, there is green all around; trees and grass. And when she turns her head, just a little bit to the left, she will see a large tent set up. I’m holding my breath, anticipating her reaction.
“Where are we?” she asks in wonder, looking up at me with those big round eyes that gleam like pools reflecting the blue sky on a summer’s day.
“It’s called Alwadi Aljameel, which roughly translates as ‘the beautiful valley’.”
“How can it be here, in the middle of the desert?”
I see she’s surprised, her reaction about what I expected.
“There’s a river coming down from the mountains which flows through this valley and then disappears underground.” She seems intrigued, so I continue. “When the rains come there are flash floods which, over the millennia, have broken down the rocks into a fertile silt, rather than sand. The steep sides of the valley provide some shade so that plants can grow.”
She takes a couple of steps forwards and kneels down, her hands moving over the grass as if checking it’s real.
“Do people live here?”
I shake my head. “No, not permanently. It’s not big enough for that. Some of the nomadic tribes use it for grazing when they are passing.”
When she glances around, I know she’s trying to see if anyone else is here.
“We’re alone today,” I reassure her, accurately reading her concern. “I had people scout the valley to make sure, and sentries are now standing guard. Today the valley is just for us. Come, let us settle the horses.”
I lead Amal off to the small corral which has been set up beside the tent in the shade of two large palm trees. As I start to untack my horse, she hurries to help with the mare. I look at her approvingly, her experience with horses showing. Girth over the saddle, the throat lash buckled round the reins to keep the bridle and martingale together. I take the tack off her, putting it to one side, the saddles balanced over the corral fence.
“Come.” I hold her hand and lead her to the tent, impatient to see her reaction; she rewards me with a stunned gasp. The tent’s been decorated like a scene from
Arabian Nights
. My tent back at the camp is fairly luxurious, but this is something else.
“How …?” Her eyes are wide open, filled with delight. A wide smile is on her face.
I grin, enjoying the effect my preparations are having on her. “I had some men come and fix this up for us this morning,” I say, answering the question she hadn’t completed. “They brought a picnic too. We’ll spend the rest of the day here, and head back to the camp in the cool of the evening.”
“Oh, Nijad!” she exclaims, putting her arms around me. “It’s wonderful.”
Then she seems to realise what she’d done and tries to step back, but I don’t let her go and pull her close.
It’s the first time she’s initiated any physical contact between us, and I don’t miss it. Until that moment, I didn’t recognise my concern that I want to know how she feels about me. Does she reciprocate the emotion I feel for her? Is she just relieved to be alive? Hoping she’ll touch me of her own volition a whole lot more, I lower my head and bend slightly. I’m so much taller than she is, and I want to make it easy for her. My lips hover above hers, and I hold her tight, but make no other move. She looks hesitant, and then takes what she wants, raising herself on tiptoe and pressing her mouth to mine. Yes, that was the signal I’d been waiting for. My mouth crushes down on hers as I take over the kiss, demanding entry, my tongue dancing with hers. It is a few moments before I break away, and by then we are both breathing deeply. I, for one, need to cool off if I’m not simply going to tear her clothes off and shove my very ready and willing cock straight into her, right here and now. She deserves better treatment than that. I can wait a little while longer.
“We’re both hot and dusty after the ride. Let’s swim.”
“Swim?” Her brow creases as she peers up at me quizzically, surprised and a little worried. “I haven’t got a costume.”
I can’t help myself. I roar with laughter. “You don’t need a fucking swimsuit,” I tell her, shaking my head in disbelief.
Her eyes widen, and then narrow in concern as she realises what I’m saying. “I can’t swim naked!” she tells me, outraged.
“Of course you can.” I’m still laughing. “I’ve already said there is no one else here. It will be for my eyes only.” I lower my voice, my amusement gone. “And I want to see you.” I brush my lips across hers, a butterfly touch she’ll hardly feel. “And you want to please your sheikh, don’t you?”
Her eyes narrow and she looks suspicious, and she’s right to be. Swimming isn’t just a way of cooling off; it’s an excellent excuse to get her naked. I can’t wait to see her body in the light of day; last night it was lit only by dim lights. But what I’m looking forward to causes her consternation. I almost see the wheels turning in her head. She’s reluctant to show me in the harsh light daylight, what to me, is a very delectable body.
I push her away from me. “Stop thinking.” I smack her backside playfully. “And do what you’re told.”
She’s still worried. “The guards …”
“Are a way back up the track. They’re watching out for trouble, and certainly won’t be watching us.” There is a second’s silence, and then I lower my tone, injecting a hint of dominance into my voice. “Now take off your clothes, Cara. I want to see that sexy body again.” I wait. “Cara. Strip!” I instruct her more forcefully, my gaze unwavering until she starts to obey me. Then I begin to disrobe as well.
Her hands cross over to go to the hem of her tunic, but she pauses before pulling it over her head. I notice she’s become distracted. Her eyes darken as she watches me remove my outer robe, but it’s not my body she’s noticed, but the gun in my holster and the wicked-looking knife now visible in my belt, and another in my boot. I realise she hasn’t appreciated I’m so heavily armed.
“You weren’t kidding about the danger, were you?” Nervously she gestures at the weapons.
“I will always keep you safe,” I rush to reassure her while hoping I can keep my promise. “I never go unarmed into the desert, but don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ve got me and the guards to protect you.”
Anyone wanting to hurt her would have to get through me first. Seeing it through her eyes, it strikes me how alien this environment is to her. In England, even very few of the police carry guns. She’s lived a cocooned and sheltered life, something I need to remember. I watch her reaction to my words, knowing I’ll have to try to ease her into our way of life, and the threat it involves, as gently as I can.
The other weapon in my armoury is already primed and ready to fire. A rakish smile comes to my face. “Now, I’m not giving you a personal striptease, so just get the rest of your clothes off now. Or else …” I end, the threat clear in my voice, but my expression takes the edge off.
“I know, I know!” she giggles, the moment of tension gone. “Or else you’ll spank me.” She wiggles her backside at me.
“You’re learning!” I reply with a broad grin. Fuck, she doesn’t know how close she was to being laid across my lap, my hands turning her luscious backside red. Teasing me now, is she? She’ll soon learn how dangerous that can be.
I take off the rest of my clothes. When I turn back, sporting a very visible erection, she’s standing naked, holding her clothes against her. She’s fixated on that part of my body that’s so blatantly begging for attention. Her tongue swipes across her lips in anticipation, and my cock jumps, impatiently wanting to be inside that luscious mouth.
“Eyes up here.” Guiltily, she raises her gaze to meet mine. She blushes. “Drop your clothes, Cara. And …” I pause, making sure she’s fully aware of what I’m saying, “I would think very carefully before you say anything.” I’m warning her about issuing any apology about her looks. But still she can’t hold my gaze as she slowly lowers her clothes to the floor.
I avoid any comment of approval, not wanting it to be misconstrued or misunderstood. Instead, I take her hand and lead her to the pool formed by the forces of the water passing through the valley. I wait as she looks with delight at the sandy beach, and the shallow, warm water. As she enjoys the scenery, my eyes rove over her body. She is one of the most alluring women I have ever seen, having curves in all the right places. And everything is real, nothing surgically enhanced or altered. I’ve bedded and fucked many skinny, perfect, model-thin women, but now I’ve seen her, they no longer have any appeal for me. Fuck, just looking at Cara makes me harder than granite. But she still can’t fucking accept it.
Maybe if I say it often enough?
“Cara, you’re so fucking beautiful.” I put all the conviction I can into my voice. Her eyes shoot to mine; I see the doubt there. I walk her deeper into the pool, so the warm water laps against my waist, and comes almost up to her breasts. I reach for her and let my body do the talking, pulling her up close, my hard-as-nails cock pressed up against her. “See what you do to me?”
She closes her eyes and breathes deeply; it’s impossible for her to miss my very evident reaction to her. Shyly, she moves her body against mine.
It’s hard as fuck to keep from surging into her right away, but first I want to tell her, to try to put into words, my fucked-up thoughts, the feelings that have taken me unawares. I smooth my hand over her forehead, my fingers trailing down the side of her face.
“I didn’t expect this.” I look at her, raise my eyes to the sky, and then back down to hers again. “You enchant me, Cara.” My voice comes out as a sexy whisper. I stroke her hair. “You said you wanted to get to know me; well, I’d like to get to know you too. Perhaps we need time, to take this slow. See where it leads us.”
She shakes her head slightly. “I don’t understand.” Her brow creases with worry lines. She thinks I’m rejecting her.
I pull her close, using my body to refute any wrong impression my words are giving. “What I’m trying to say is … I want to take some time to explore each other and our relationship. As if we are just two people who are attracted to each other, and who wish to explore that attraction.”
“But the contract …”
“Sod the fucking contract!” I say gruffly, wincing inside at what my father would have to say if he heard me. “This is about you and me now, not how we got into this situation. I want to explore what we have. Let’s take some time to get to know each other, not because of any fucking piece of paper, but because we want to.”
I want her to understand how unique this situation is for me. “It sounds a damn cliché, but I haven’t felt like this before, Cara. You’re so different from what I expected, and I have to adjust my expectations.” I swallow as I tell her the truth. “I didn’t even expect to even like my wife. I expected to fuck her, yes, and probably enjoy it enough. It’s easy for a man; any pussy will do, if you’ll forgive my crudeness. But enjoy her company? That I didn’t see coming.”
She swallows. “I’m not sure I can be what you expect. I’m not the right material for a sheikh’s wife …”
I interrupt her. “I don’t think there’s a recipe for that. The perfect wife for me is the one that I desire.”
Not convinced, she shakes her head. “I’m no good with people. And the tribespeople …”
I nuzzle her hair. “Fuck the tribespeople. We’ve done what they wanted; we’re married. I’ll keep you close; you’ll have nothing to worry about. I want to learn all about you, what makes you tick. If you’re already pregnant, I’ll love the baby, no mistake about that, and I’ll be proud to see you swell with my child. But if you’re not, I’m happy to give it some time. To enjoy days like today. There’s no need to rush. We might be able to build a proper relationship, but we won’t know unless we give it some time. Without pressure.”
Pulling back, I’m able to watch her face closely, seeing her initial perplexed expression slowly changing into a broad smile, totally transforming her face as she finally accepts what I mean. This marriage needn’t be about a contract; it could simply be two people wanting to be together. This marriage could be real.