AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lying in bed at night—knowing that the magnificent olive-skinned body of Xavier de Maistre was lying naked on the other side of the door she now insisted on locking well It would be enough to make any woman ache, surely—especially if she'd already tasted his sensual skills?
She considered his accusation now, as she slid two fingers easily inside the waistband of her trousers—had she lost weight? 'Everyone loses weight in hot weather,' she defended.
'But not everyone watches the object of her desire with hungry eyes instead of giving in to that desire How stubborn you are, Laura '
But Laura was less stubborn than concerned that her clever plan might have completely backfired on her. She had kept Xavier at arm's length and told him she wanted to be friends without realising that friendship broke down barriers in the same way that sex did.
If you lived very closely with a man and he wasn't kissing you the chances were he would have to talk to you, and you to him And, as two foreigners in a strange land, they'd had plenty to talk about
Laura had already decided that it would be easier if they liked each other—what she hadn't realised was how easy it would be to like him Nor had she expected the look of admiration in his black eyes when she stuck to her guns and would not be swayed by his occasional flirtatious comments.
It was as if he had been waiting for her resolve to crumble, and when it hadn't he had been forced to look at the situation— and her—in a completely different way
Gradually, his expression of wry frustration had become replaced with a growing respect, and that made Laura feel good It gave her back her se/f-respect, which meant she relaxed, and the more she relaxed the more he did—and, oh, that made her feel vulnerable all over again.
In her attempt to protect herself she had made herself susceptible to his careless charm, which was almost as devastating as his kiss.
She wiped the glow of sweat from her face as they stood on the summit overlooking the wide, sweeping plain of Kharastan's flat and rolling desert The stark and dramatic country was becoming a little more familiar to her day by day—since every day something different had been laid on for the benefit of the Sheikh's honoured guests.
They had been to visit the bustling bazaars in the capital of Kumush Ay, and had been mesmerised by the sights and sounds and wonderful smells and bright colours of the busy marketplace They had been taken to the
formal riding school and witnessed a magnificent display by a troop of Akhal-Teke horses.
And this morning they had come to watch Malik and a group of other Kharastani noblemen engage in the ancient sport of falconry.
Laura stood a little way back as she watched, aware of Xavier's rapt air of concentration and the realisation that this was very much a male bonding thing.
'Today we still practise this noble art as a mark of respect to the survival of our forefathers in the desert,' said Malik, as a terrifying-looking bird with cruel eyes perched on his leather-covered arm
Xavier had revelled in his stay in the country—aware that he and Laura were being shown a variety of Kharastan life and recognising how rich and diverse it was But through all the banquets, the shows and the lavish displays, he had remained somewhat on the sidelines A spectator rather than a participant— until today Under this beating desert sun, in this harsh and unforgiving terrain, something had happened to him
Xavier had been captivated by the powerful raptor as it flew low across the coarse desert Bobbing and veering like a drunk teetering home late at night, it shot high into the air as the lure was thrown It was primitive and elemental, and in a moment of clarity he could suddenly seethe point of the sport But it was more than that It was like the click of understanding when you reached fluency in a foreign language For the first time he allowed himself to feel the connection between himself and his forebears, to acknowledge his birthright.
His ancestors must have stood on this hot and harsh terrain, he thought, as tiny grains of sand whispered against his skin When survival in the desert was a daily battle and falconry was not an elegant sport but a means of obtaining food And at that moment he seemed a long long way from his elegant Parisian apartments
It seemed that he was not who he had thought he was—instead he had discovered a man who was almost a stranger to himself And he knew in that moment that he had changed, and that he could never go back to being the person he had been before How could he? He was half-Kharastanii
The thought shook him—and, just like his early ancestors must have done, he sought refuge from his troubled thoughts in the calm balm of a woman's soothing presence.
He turned to look at Laura, who was standing watching the display with a mixture of fear and fascination, and he recognised that it had been her determination to push him away which had allowed him to focus his mind and his thoughts, like an athlete preparing for a big race. The absence of sex had filled him with a new and inner sense of purpose and—yes—of identity But now he ached for her in a way he could never remember aching for a woman before.
Now, in the bright desert light, he narrowed his eyes to see if he could see the dark blot on the horizon which would herald the return of the strong, graceful bird they called the Saker Falcon The skies remained clear, but inside Xavier was still troubled.
He thought of the local name for the Saker—hurr, meaning noble, or free Malik had told him about it when they had come from Zahir's room last night, after one of their regular evening meetings with the Sheikh.
'How is Zahir?' Laura asked, her soft voice breaking into his thoughts.
Xavier looked at her, a picture of loveliness in the wide-brimmed hat which shielded her fair skin from the fierce Kharastani sun He wanted to pull the ribbon from her hair and shake it loose, lose himself in its thick, scented satin To feel rather than think—about anything—and yet she seemed determined to torment him, one way or another.
'He's about the same ' He shrugged.
'So what do you and he talk about, night after night?'
'Sacre bleu, but you stretch my patience, cherie' Xavier laughed in spite of himself, for at that moment they saw the Saker contrasted against the bright sky, and there was whoop of joy from all the men.
He turned to Laura, his face animated and alive with pleasure at the ancient ritual he had just witnessed 'You keep me at arm's length, Laura—and yet you pry into my soul'
Laura shook her head 'I don't mean to pry, Xavier,' she said truthfully 'I just wonder if it's good for you to keep everything bottled up—not to talk about this huge thing in your life that has happened Unless you discuss it with Malik, of course?'
