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"I told you it was special, didn't I" he said.
She did not respond, instead turning her head and gazing out across the vista.
"Can I ask a dumb question?" she asked a few moments later.
"Sure," he replied.
"How do you know your way? I mean, how come you don't get lost?"
He laughed quietly. "I suppose you could call it some kind of innate sense of direction. Maybe it's in my blood."
"That makes sense, I suppose," she said tentatively. "Although, I can't say I understand it."
"Why would you? You didn't grow up in this place, like I did."
"I guess not," she replied.
Ahmed felt she needed some kind of explanation. "My family goes back many generations. We are a family of great tradition and that includes everything that we used to treasure, including the desert life."
"So the people back in the village, they know this? They understand that your family has some kind of special privilege in this area?" she asked.
He could tell that she was trying to understand the kind of life that could be lived out here. It must seem so completely alien to her, almost incomprehensible.
But, he realized, he wanted her to understand. For some reason it was important to him. Perhaps because she was so much of an outsider, and the world that she had come from was a world where tradition had become almost meaningless.
At least that was how he saw her world. Maybe he was wrong, and perhaps over the next day or two she would show him he was mistaken in making that judgment.
But it was just the way he saw things. The world she existed in seemed to only value what was happening today or tomorrow, but no further than that. The world she had come from was a world of instant gratification. A complete contrast to this, he reflected.
This was eternal. Timeless.
Her fame was merely something which fanned a desperate need for temporary satisfaction. If that was the case, he understood why this place would affect her so instantly, so viscerally. This was nothing like what she was used to.
"Maybe you can find something out here that you can use when you go back," he suggested, thinking he was trying to be helpful.
He felt her body stiffen suddenly ,and immediately knew he'd stepped over an unspoken boundary. "What are you suggesting?" she asked sharply.
"Nothing. Merely that this is something new for you," he replied. "I've caused you so much trouble in the first place. You could say that it might be my way of repaying you."
She twisted slightly in the saddle and then her eyes were gazing at him. He could see a hint of indignation in those piercing blue eyes. He liked how it felt when she looked at him like that.
"You don't have to repay me for anything," she declared harshly.
"It is merely my way of trying to put right what has been damaged."
She squinted at him. "Nothing has been damaged," she snapped. She was really getting angry now, he told himself.
He tilted his head and tightened the grip of his hand around her waist. She seemed to notice the movement of his hand, because her eyes narrowed slightly and her gaze intensified in response.
Was she thinking about the way he was holding her against him? Did she realize how her closeness was affecting him? Was she feeling anything like the these confusing yet exquisite sensations?
"I know that I must have inconvenienced you," he stated. "Perhaps I shouldn't have offered you that ride home in my limo."
"You saw the photos, didn't you?"
He nodded. "To me, they looked perfectly innocent. But, perhaps that's not the kind of world we live in any more." he said.
"What are you suggesting?" she asked.
