Page 59 of Kismet

Chapter 16

Reclined among the jeweled-toned pillows on the carpeted floor of her tent, she didn’t hear Shaheen enter, but her body vibrated from his presence. She looked up from the book she’d been reading to see him standing just inside the doorway watching her. With a smile of welcome, she stood up and walked toward him.

He met her halfway, and she melted into his embrace with a sigh of pleasure. His arms were hard and solid around her, but she could feel his taut sinews were rigid with tension. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. There was a sense of desperation about him that frightened her. As he turned away, she shivered. Whatever news he’d received earlier had disturbed him greatly.

The sudden sound of childish laughter echoed outside the tent, and she turned her head to see Malik and a young girl scurry into the dwelling with two baskets. As the children set down the handwoven containers, Shaheen dropped the sidewalls of the tent with the exception of the opening that looked out onto the Atlas Mountains. When the children were gone, Shaheen extended his hand to her. Slipping her hand into his was like entering a home she’d lived in forever. The sensation warmed every part of her heart and body. As if he felt the same way, he smiled down at her and gently squeezed her fingers. They sat down at the pommel rests situated in front of the low table with his shoulder pressing into hers as he leaned toward one of the baskets.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered with a wicked grin curling his lips.

With a wary smile of amusement, she eyed him carefully. “What are you up to?”

“Close your eyes, Allegra.” This time the command dared her to disobey him as his brown eyes glinted with determination.

“As you wish.” She laughed and closed her eyes.

There was the sudden aroma of a pungent fruit, and she tilted her head to one side as she breathed in the scent. Bananas. Without permission, she opened her eyes to see him watching her with a sinful spark of mischief in his dark eyes. In his hands, he held a banana with its skin peeled back.

“Would you care to demonstrate the proper way to eat this fruit, ma belle?” he asked. Laughing, she stretched out her hand, but he pulled the banana out of her reach. “On second thought, I don’t think I care to endure the torment you put me through the last time you ate this particular type of fruit.”

“I won’t deny that I enjoyed winning our wager,” she said with another laugh as she gestured for him to let her have a bite of the fruit.

“I didn’t know whether to throttle you or keep you with me until we were both satisfied,” he said gruffly as he offered her the banana.

Her hand resting over his, she leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the tip of the fleshy fruit before she bit off a small piece. His low growl teased her senses as she met his brown-eyed gaze. This was what she’d never experienced with her other lovers. This intimate knowing. There was an invisible thread binding her to him. It was so strong she didn’t think she could break it even if she wanted to.

His fingers gently touched her cheek before he opened up another basket and handed her a flat loaf of bread. Minutes later, she was looking at a buffet of fruits, cheese, and bread. As they ate, the rapport between them was natural and comfortable, and she laughed as she playfully fought him for the last piece of cheese. Relinquishing the tasty morsel to him, she reached for a date instead. As she bit into the sugary sweet fruit, Shaheen poured them a cup of tea. He watched as she took a sip. Eyes widening, she uttered a soft gasp. “Earl Grey!”

“I asked your maid for the last of her supply.” He smiled with satisfaction.

“Thank you,” she said with a happy sigh. “I love mint tea, but this is like being at home.”

The moment she spoke, he turned his head away from her and his profile was sharply defined in the fading light as he stared out at the mountains vivid with color from the setting sun. She couldn’t see it, but she sensed the sorrow in him. It prompted her to reach out and touch his cheek. There was just the hint of an evening shadow bristling beneath the pads of her fingers. He stiffened slightly at the touch before he captured her hand in his and pressed his mouth to the inside of her wrist.

It was a simple caress, but the tenderness of it tugged at her heart in a way she never could have envisioned. The intensity of the emotion held her in place as he stood up and crossed the carpet to stand where the wall of the tent was drawn back. Arms folded across his chest, he studied the desert plain that stretched out to the foot of the mountains. His air of impending disaster had returned, and he looked like a sentinel guarding against an unseen enemy. Had something happened between him and Hakim? The boy had not been pleased to see her with Shaheen earlier, and it was more than possible they’d had a falling-out.

“I haven’t thought about home for a very long time.”

His words were so soft, she almost didn’t hear them. In fact, she was certain he’d not meant to speak them out loud. Quickly rising to her feet, she moved to his side and entwined her arm in his.

“Do you miss it?”

Silence hung between them for a moment before he shook his head. “No. I’ve found the home here that I never had in England.”

“I understand why you feel that way. I love the simplicity of it all. There are no complications for the Amazigh. They live in the present believing their destiny is already foretold.”

“And you? What of your destiny, ma chérie?” He looked down at her with an unreadable expression.

“I always thought I fashioned my own destiny.” She lifted her hand to examine the somewhat faded mark on her hand. “But I don’t believe that anymore.”

As she spoke the words, she suddenly realized how little control she had over her life. The choices she’d made were the only control she’d ever had. Her every decision had layered the outcome of subsequent choices. But the real truth was that from the moment her mother had sold her to Madame Eugenie, she’d had only one choice.

Survival.

That wasn’t shaping one’s destiny. Her gaze returned to the mark that proclaimed her the jahīm anasi. No, she didn’t shape her destiny, it shaped her, and she was Shaheen’s woman. His destiny. This was exactly where she was supposed to be. It was a heady revelation, and it stole her breath away. His touch was gentle as he ran his forefinger over her henna tattoo.

“Then let us live for the moment, ma belle, and let destiny take care of itself.” His warm breath teased her cheek as he whispered the words in her ear.

Capturing her face with both his hands, he kissed her gently. It was a caress that made her want to weep from the sweetness of it. Dear lord, she had no defense for this type of tender regard. With one warm touch, he’d sent her heart spiraling out of control. His fingers trailed across her cheek as he released her and moved to drop the tent’s last open wall. When he turned to face her again, she saw something akin to hopelessness flash in his dark eyes. With a slight shake of her head, she went to him and pressed her hand to his heart.