Her Desert Knight

She saw a smile tilt the edge of Quasar’s mouth. “So you’re a bit of a rebel.”

“Only a very tiny bit.”

“I wonder.” He gave her a mysterious look.

She had been a rebel in choosing to chart her own course in life. The fact that she’d been blown right off it and ended up back here again made her wonder about her choices. She planned on sticking closer to the straight and narrow from now on. A degree in engineering certainly would present a lot more employment opportunities than her currently useless art history Ph.D.

“We’re nearly there. It’s called Saliyah, after my sister-in-law Celia, who designed the grounds and ensnared the heart of my brother Salim.”

“That’s so romantic.” They turned on to a side road in the desert. Spreading date palms cropped up to line the desolate road and cast lush shade over its dusty surface.

She gasped at the sight of a large animal underneath a nearby tree. “Look, a camel.”

Quasar laughed. “Salim’s always complaining about them. They eat his expensive landscaping. I figure he should just consider them part of the scenery and worth supporting. This place has been attracting a lot of visitors from overseas and they eat that stuff up.”

The road led up to a high mud-brick wall with an elaborately carved arch. They entered and drove around a large circular fountain, where moving water sparkled like diamonds in the hot midday sun. Quasar helped her out of the car and it was whisked away by a valet while she blinked and adjusted to the bright light. They walked across a smooth courtyard of inlaid sandstone into a shady lobby that looked like the throne room of an ancient palace. Colorful mosaics covered the walls and lush seating arrangements were clustered around impressive botanical specimens. The guests were an interesting mix of glamorous Omanis and other Arabs, their traditional garb accented with Chanel sunglasses and Fendi handbags, and chic Europeans showing a lot of carefully suntanned skin. Waiters served coffee and dates, and the scent of rose petals filled the air.

“Would you like some coffee, or do you want to get right to the good stuff?”

She glanced about, feeling awkward and out of place. She didn’t belong here among these stylish and confident members of the international elite. “I’d like to see the museum.”

“I suspected you would.” He shot her a smile that made her blood pump faster. “Follow me.” She walked across the elegant foyer, trying to keep her eyes from tracking the lithe roll of his hips in too obvious a manner.

Sexual magnetism radiated from him like an exotic scent. Women’s eyes swiveled to him from all directions, and it was all she could do not to glare at them. As if he were even hers to be jealous about! She felt their critical gaze on her, too. No doubt they wondered what a fine specimen of manhood like Quasar was doing with a mousy nobody like her.

Quasar led her out through a grand arch into a formal garden with a trickling fountain. Romantic-looking couples sat on upholstered sofas, chatting under the shade of the exotic plants. For an instant she imagined sitting there with him, just enjoying the afternoon. But he would hardly romance her in front of the employees at his brother’s hotel.

Was he attracted to her? It was hard to imagine that someone like Quasar, whom almost any woman—including the wealthy, beautiful, famous and brilliant—would find desirable, would be interested in her. But if he weren’t, why did he invite her here?

* * *

Quasar waited for her to pass him when they reached the path to the museum, but she hesitated, uncertain. “This is it.” He gestured at the carved wood door, almost hidden by flowering bushes.

Dani peered at the door with a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. Today she wore a traditional Omani getup in a rose shade that brought out the roses in her cheeks and lips. He hadn’t noticed yesterday what a mobile and sensual mouth she had. “It’s almost as if they didn’t want people to discover the treasures inside.”

“Maybe they don’t. I suspect they’re more interested in selling them expensive massages.” He smiled. “Let’s see if it’s open.”

He tried the handle. She played with her headscarf, almost nervous. What was she afraid of? Being alone with him in a cool, darkened room filled with antiques?

Hmm. If she knew his reputation she’d do well to be afraid. But she couldn’t know anything about him. They hadn’t exchanged last names.

He tried the brass handle and the door creaked open, sending a rush of air-conditioned air toward them.

The room was dimly lit, with spotlights shining down on a few key pieces, mostly ornately carved silver.

She walked right past those to some dull-colored pots displayed on a shelf against the far wall. “These are ancient,” she breathed, and she rushed forward to examine the closest one. “Two thousand years old at least. Back when this area was a pit stop along the Silk Road.”

The same color as the mud-brick walls, the pottery didn’t look that exciting to Quasar. Still, Dani’s exuberance was contagious.

“Everything here was found buried beneath the sand at the site. Celia says the oasis was in use for thousands of years.”

“Camel trains would come through Salalah before making the long trek up through the desert toward Jerusalem.” Dani wheeled around, and headed for a display case filled with silver jewelry. “Look at these pieces. They’re exquisite.”

He examined the big heavy silver bracelets and necklaces that were large enough to strangle a camel. “I bet they’re heavy.”

“I bet they’re not.” She smiled at him. “Some of them are hollow. You could store prayers in them for protection. Look at the carving on this one. It must have taken the craftsman weeks to make all those intricate designs.” She sighed. “We’re too busy these days to make anything so beautiful.”

“How come you don’t wear jewelry if you admire it so much?” He noticed for the first time that her ears were pierced, but unadorned by earrings.

“You don’t wear jewelry when you’re trying to disappear.” She flashed him a wry smile. “The ladies wearing these pieces wanted everyone to notice them.”

“And to gossip about how rich their daddies or husbands were, I suspect.”

“Absolutely.” She grinned. “I bet they enjoyed it, though.”

She moved over to a display of colorful clothing. “These aren’t antique.”

“Nope. Celia thought it would be a good idea to include them to celebrate our traditional clothing. Hardly anyone wears such bright colors these days.”

“They wanted to stand out against the dusty backdrop of the desert, like magnificent exotic birds. Maybe I should start wearing stuff like this myself?” She lifted a brow.

He laughed. “I can’t picture you in something that loud.”

“Me, either.” She sighed. “Truth be told, I prefer to disappear into the scenery. I suppose I always have.”

“Even before you were married?” He burned with curiosity to know more about her marriage, but didn’t want to jump the gun and scare her off by asking too much.

She nodded. “I guess I’m a wallflower at heart.”

“You could never hide against a wall, even though your dress today is a similar color to this rosy clay.” He picked up the end of her scarf and felt the soft fabric between thumb and finger. Desire stirred in him as he imagined lifting more of the fabric to discover what lay beneath.

Her breath quickened and he thought he saw her pupils dilate a little. The attraction between them was definitely mutual. She turned from him and hurried over to a shelf with a display of big brass serving platters. To him they looked like something he could buy in the souk this afternoon if he wanted. She seemed riveted by one of them, though. He moved right behind her, so he could almost feel the heat of her body in the cool air. She peered at the largest dish. “What a pretty scene. It looks like the Dhofar mountains. It’s quite unusual to depict something representational in the post-Islamic era—”

She turned to him, that glorious mouth still talking, and he fought an almost unbearable urge to kiss her.

He managed not to, though. Desire raced through him like fire along a line of gasoline and he tried hard to fight it back. You just met her. You don’t know her.

Heck, that had never stopped him before. The best way to get to know a girl was to become intimate right away. Let the chemistry mingle and see what kind of explosions happened.

Not this girl, though. Dani had been hurt, and he didn’t know the details. She was recovering from a bad marriage and the last thing she needed was to be seduced by a roving stranger who was only in town for a couple of weeks.

Well, he didn’t know how long he’d be here, but it wouldn’t be long. He was just visiting family and trying to figure out what to do next.

And all he wanted to do right now was kiss Dani.

Mercifully she’d moved away, and was examining a series of khanjar daggers hanging on the wall. Most of the sheaths were ornately carved silver, but she was bent over the least elaborate one. “This must be camel leather and camel bone. I suppose this is what they all looked like many centuries ago, when people carried them for use, not for ornamentation.”

Keep your dagger sheathed, he commanded himself.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I told my brother I wouldn’t indulge in anything but conversation with you today. And I was just thinking that you’re making it very difficult.” He was nothing if not honest.

She looked startled for a moment, then regained her composure. “Why did you tell your brother that?”

“He’s worried about me embarking on an unsuitable romance. He doesn’t trust my judgment.”

“You’d better keep your distance. As an Omani he’s not going to approve of me since I’m divorced, so you can go ahead and think of me as off-limits.”

“What if that just makes me want you more?”

“Then you’re incorrigible.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to call me that. Actually you might. That’s a pretty unusual word. Impossible is a more popular choice.”

A smile tugged at the edges of her mouth. “An impossible man is the very last thing I need, so I think we can mutually agree to be platonic.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I think I just did.” She smiled and walked quietly over to a display of large, ornate coffeepots.

Dani wasn’t playing hard to get. She was hard to get. In fact kissing her might take the same amount of effort required to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. On the other hand, it might well be worth it, and he did enjoy a challenge.

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