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‘That’s exactly what it is.’
‘Lucky man,’ she murmured.
As Khalid gave a rueful and accepting shrug, she knew in her gut she’d be okay. There was no need to be overawed by any of this. This was as much his reality as her bedsit in King’s Dock was hers. Everything she’d seen so far spoke of care, and appreciation for the craftsmanship and the materials of his country. Photographs of Bedouin tents did them no justice at all.
‘You must change into robes before we leave,’ Khalid said, distracting Millie from examining the many beautiful examples of art from his homeland.
‘You don’t expect me to ride, do you?’ she exclaimed, remembering the horses. ‘I’m not a horsewoman.’
‘You might surprise yourself,’ he said. ‘I’m going to change. I suggest you do too.’ He indicated another area of the tent. ‘You’ll find some clothes in there. I’ll help you with the headdress. It takes some getting used to,’ he explained as she went to investigate.
Millie’s eyes widened at the sight of a beautiful silver-grey robe in the finest of fabrics laid out on a leather daybed. Delicate silver embroidery around the neck and hem, ornamented with tiny seed pearls, had obviously been painstakingly hand-stitched.
‘Ready?’ Khalid called out while she was still running her fingertips reverently over the intricate work.
‘Yes,’ she lied.
When he thrust the cover aside it was too late to take those words back. When he strode in, her voice deserted her, anyway. Having changed out of the jeans and shirt he had worn for piloting the plane, Khalid was once again dressed in robes. A true master of the desert, he was a stunning sight. Picking up the glorious grey robe she was to wear, he maintained eye contact as he dropped it over her head. ‘It suits you,’ he remarked. ‘Now take all your other clothes off.’
‘Everything?’ Millie blinked.
‘This is the desert, not the high street, and you’re not about to catch a bus.’
She frowned. ‘Okay—’ But before she could do as he instructed, Khalid had reached down to lift the hem of her robe. Deftly removing her top and jeans, he indicated that she should step out of them. Her underwear followed, leaving her naked beneath the flowing robe.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked as he lifted her. For a moment she thought there was some other garment he was about to help her to put on.
‘Being an extremely bad man,’ he said.
She laughed with excitement as his beard-roughened jaw raked her neck.
‘No one will disturb us here,’ he explained, ‘and I’m not going to waste time teasing you, or preparing you.’
‘No need.’
But he did test her for readiness. Always so caring. And he protected them both. She had to muffle her cries of pleasure against his chest as he took her in one firm thrust. Needing no encouragement to work furiously with him, she ground her buttocks against his big rough hands. They were both noisy and fierce, both craved fast release. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, while her hands gripped his shoulders as if she would never let him go.
‘Yes!’ she cried as he upped the tempo and force of his thrust. ‘I need this—need you! Ah...!’
‘As I need you, habibti!’ Khalid ground out, working dependably, rhythmically, firmly.
‘Oh...!’ Her cries went on and on, as sensation exploded between them in the same instant. How could anything be this amazing, and fantastic and essential to life?
‘Again,’ Khalid suggested against her ear, in a seductive, warm and teasing tone when the first storm had passed and she had begun to quieten.
‘Oh, yes, please,’ she agreed.
Settling deep, she gasped, ‘Need more...need more...’
Incredibly, with his own release only moments behind him, Khalid was still fully aroused, and as hungry as she was. He thrust firmly and deep, moving persuasively as his big hands helped her to thrust her hips in time with his. ‘Must be your turn again?’ she gasped after he had satisfied her several times more.
‘Like this?’ he said, starting over.
‘Exactly like that,’ she confirmed, howling with pleasure as he upped the pace.
It was a long time later, when they had both taken a shower and each other in the shower, in a bathroom in the pavilion that surprised Millie by being extremely well equipped, that Khalid towelled her dry, and when that was done he stood before her completely naked.
‘Not this time,’ he scolded when she reached for him. ‘But soon,’ he promised.
That had to be enough for her. For now. The desert suits him, she thought as Khalid dropped the black robe over his head. Securing a different type of headdress from the usual—she knew this was called a howli, and called for yards of fabric to be expertly wound around his head and face—he was instantly transformed from a passionate lover, into passionate lover who was also an imposing desert king.
‘You can’t be cold,’ he remarked as she shivered with unadulterated lust.
Khalid’s physicality was staggering. Having thought herself sated, she wanted him again, and with a hunger that threatened to overwhelm her.
Even though she could only see his eyes, they were knowing, and quite capable of delivering a message through the narrow slit he had left for his eyes, and that message said, no chance. ‘I’ll help you put your headdress on,’ he said as he gathered up her scarf. ‘It will protect you from the sun, and from the sand.’
Alone with her thoughts as he did this, she questioned her feelings and her behaviour. She was having the most wonderful adventure, but what then? However wonderful this was, he was, there was no future for them. Khalid was the powerful ruler of a fabulously wealthy country. She was a laundress from the docks. He couldn’t hold off his marriage for ever, and that would have to be a formal and very public affair, and where would that leave Millie? This wasn’t going anywhere except back to Khalid’s bed, she accepted as she followed him outside; a thought that excited her far more than it should have done.
‘You’ll ride with me,’ he said. ‘If you’re as inexperienced on horseback as you used to be in bed, it’s the safest way to travel,’ he murmured discreetly, though she wasn’t sure his guards weren’t actually mannequins dressed for the role, as they maintained their distance and their silence, and their stillness, admirably. ‘As you have discovered,’ Khalid added with a wicked smile, ‘neither condition needs to remain permanent. Now come closer so I can put the final touches to your head covering to protect you from the sun.’
She had pulled it back a little, and now asked, ‘Is it safe?’
‘I’ve never known scarves to bite.’
‘I mean you. Are you safe?’ she scolded. ‘Coming close to you, I mean.’
‘It’s never stopped you before.’
Her body thrilled with memories as he rearranged her headdress, and then led her towards the horses. And the desert.
CHAPTER TEN
‘THERE,’ KHALID SAID, standing back to examine his handiwork. ‘Apart from your striking blue eyes, you look like a real Khalifan.’
She felt unrecognisable: exotic, unusual, and so unlike her usual self.
‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘What do you think?’
‘It feels wonderful,’ she admitted. ‘Cool and comfortable.’
‘I sense a but?’ he queried.
Only that same niggle of doubt that had struck her inside the tent. What was she doing here, living a dream that didn’t belong to her? And never could?
Miss Francine’s voice came into her head. If things appear too good to be true, they generally are.
She had to shake that thought away, and enjoy each new experience to the full otherwise her time here was wasted. There were never any guarantees in life, so why not make the most of this? She was under the protection of the hawk of the desert. What could possibly go wrong? Millie thought
as Khalid’s attendants brought up the horses. The air was warm and scented with the tang of the ocean, and adventure in the desert beckoned.
‘I’m ready,’ she confirmed.
Khalid’s snorting, frothing, fearsome-looking animal was definitely not her mount of choice. ‘You don’t seriously expect me to ride on that?’ she said as he beckoned to her to come closer, so he could lift her onto the saddle in front of him. ‘That isn’t a horse, it’s a muscle machine with evil intentions.’
‘Play nice, Burkan,’ he said as the horse flattened its ears.
‘What about me?’ Millie pointed out. ‘I’m prepared for nice, but preferably when it arrives on four wheels.’
