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Forever.
Once again, she felt nerves tighten at that thought. Was she ready for something like that? Was she ready for a man like Ahmed?
She drifted off to sleep thinking about him. When she awoke sometime later, she wasn't sure exactly when, she could smell the aromas of cooking food. She sat up and went outside. What she saw amazed her.
Ahmed was over by the area where they had shared breakfast this morning. But, this time it wasn't just a table and cushions that was laid out.
He was standing right next to what looked like a roasting spit. There was some meat on the spit and he was turning it slowly. Smoke was rising in the air, and she could smell the aroma, more intense now that she was outside.
Gemma suddenly realized she was hungry, after all. She hadn't eaten a decent meal since leaving the city.
On the table were laid out many plates and on the plates she could see various vegetable and a variety of other dishes she couldn't recognize.
She walked over to him and he turned to her. "Did you rest well?" he asked continuing to turn the spit slowly as he spoke.
"Yeah," she said and peered at him. "Where did all this come from?"
"I arranged for the locals to bring it up from the village. I take you're hungry," he said.
She felt her stomach rumble almost exactly on cue. She placed a hand over her belly. "Sure."
"You do eat meat, don't you?" he asked.
"I'm not a vegetarian, if that's what you mean?"
He looked relieved and came to her, wiping his hands clean. "It'll be ready shortly," he said.
"You're quite the cook, then," she teased.
"I know how to look after myself," he admitted.
She lifted a brow at him. "With the help of the locals, of course."
He smiled. "With a little help. They're more than happy to do this kind of thing. I don't ask them that often. But, I figured this was a special occasion."
"Really?" she replied gazing at him for a long moment.
"Isn't it?"
She shrugged. "I suppose it is," she admitted.
He glanced down at the table. "Would you like a drink?"
She looked at the bottles on the table. "What do you have there?"
He bent down and picked up a bottle. "A local drink, made from fruit."
"Alcohol?" she asked.
He nodded. "But very sweet." He gazed at her an instant. "Quite appropriate, don't you think?"
She ignored that attempt at flattery and took the bottle. She sniffed at the opening. It smelled sweet, just like he'd said. "Maybe I can try a little. If you're having some yourself."
He lifted two glasses from the table. "Of course."
He poured a small amount into both glasses and handed her one.
He lifted his glass to her and clinked his against hers. "To peace and quiet," he said without the slightest trace of sarcasm, she thought.
