not to be burdened with an official title by someone with whom I have a personal connection.”
They were definitely up close and personal at the moment, thanks to the middle-age woman wearing the purple silk caftan standing behind her, practically pushing Sunny into the sheikh. “All right, Rayad. Personally speaking, for such a thoroughly macho military guy, you wear refinement very well.”
Amusement flashed in his dark eyes. “I truly appreciate your somewhat dubious compliment. Now if you would please come with me, I have something to show you.”
All sorts of possibilities ran through Sunny’s mind, none of which she could repeat in a social setting, unless it happened to be a biker bar. “Is it bigger than a breadbasket?”
Rayad’s smile melted into a frown. “I am not quite clear on your meaning, yet I believe you will find it interesting.”
Too bad she didn’t know what
it
was, but her inherent sense of curiosity propelled her answer, and she couldn’t discount the benefits of spending time with him. After all, she hadn’t completely learned what made him tick. “I suppose I’m game since the noise in here is stifling. But you do realize if anyone sees us leaving together, rumors will spread like wildfire.”
“They will only envy me due to my good fortune of having your company,” he said, followed by the kind of grin that could drive a woman to write a poem in praise of his perfection.
But not her. Never her. She wasn’t that taken with him. Much. “Since you put it that way, let’s go.”
As Sunny followed Rayad into the red-carpeted foyer, she cursed her apparent weakness where he was concerned. She ran through a mental laundry list outlining all the reasons why she couldn’t become involved with him, if only temporarily. Reasons that hadn’t existed until recently. Reasons she wished would just go away and allow her to be carefree again.
Together they navigated a labyrinth of hallways until they reached a steep, narrow staircase leading downward. “Is this the way to the dungeon?” she asked when Rayad stepped aside.
“No. It is a place of great historic interest.”
That should make her feel better, but as she descended the stone steps on the stupid spiked heels, the claustrophobia began to hinder her breathing. Fortunately, the stairs weren’t substantial in number, and she reached the bottom winded but without incident. Rayad joined her to open a heavy wood door, allowing her entry into a large room that resembled a museum, complete with glass cases.
“What is all this?” she asked him over one shoulder.
“Artifacts,” he said as he walked to the display to her right. “The history of Bajul’s past.”
Sunny moved closer to him and studied the primitive pottery, glossy stones and weathered scrolls. “I’m no historian, but that all looks rather ancient.”
“It is. Most of these relics were excavated in the desert region to the south of the mountains.”
“That must have taken several years.”
“It did take some time, yet it was worth my efforts.”
She shot him a surprised look. “You found all this?”
“Yes. On the land I own approximately eighty kilometers from here.”
While she mentally converted that into fifty miles, Sunny went back to surveying the artifacts. “Interesting. Is it a mountainous area?”
“No. The terrain is flat, and the climate much more arid.”
One thing about Bajul—its topography was as varied as the state of Texas. “Do you prefer the desert?”
He inched a little closer to her side. “Yes. It holds a certain magic, particularly in the evening.”
Cue the return of the midnight lovemaking fantasies. “Yes, it does. There’s nothing quite like a warm breeze on your face while stargazing. I remember that from a trip to the Sahara.”
“Would you wish to experience it again?”
“Experience what?” she asked, the rasp in her voice indicating her recent penchant for wicked yearnings.
“The desert and my
They were definitely up close and personal at the moment, thanks to the middle-age woman wearing the purple silk caftan standing behind her, practically pushing Sunny into the sheikh. “All right, Rayad. Personally speaking, for such a thoroughly macho military guy, you wear refinement very well.”
Amusement flashed in his dark eyes. “I truly appreciate your somewhat dubious compliment. Now if you would please come with me, I have something to show you.”
All sorts of possibilities ran through Sunny’s mind, none of which she could repeat in a social setting, unless it happened to be a biker bar. “Is it bigger than a breadbasket?”
Rayad’s smile melted into a frown. “I am not quite clear on your meaning, yet I believe you will find it interesting.”
Too bad she didn’t know what
it
was, but her inherent sense of curiosity propelled her answer, and she couldn’t discount the benefits of spending time with him. After all, she hadn’t completely learned what made him tick. “I suppose I’m game since the noise in here is stifling. But you do realize if anyone sees us leaving together, rumors will spread like wildfire.”
“They will only envy me due to my good fortune of having your company,” he said, followed by the kind of grin that could drive a woman to write a poem in praise of his perfection.
But not her. Never her. She wasn’t that taken with him. Much. “Since you put it that way, let’s go.”
As Sunny followed Rayad into the red-carpeted foyer, she cursed her apparent weakness where he was concerned. She ran through a mental laundry list outlining all the reasons why she couldn’t become involved with him, if only temporarily. Reasons that hadn’t existed until recently. Reasons she wished would just go away and allow her to be carefree again.
Together they navigated a labyrinth of hallways until they reached a steep, narrow staircase leading downward. “Is this the way to the dungeon?” she asked when Rayad stepped aside.
“No. It is a place of great historic interest.”
That should make her feel better, but as she descended the stone steps on the stupid spiked heels, the claustrophobia began to hinder her breathing. Fortunately, the stairs weren’t substantial in number, and she reached the bottom winded but without incident. Rayad joined her to open a heavy wood door, allowing her entry into a large room that resembled a museum, complete with glass cases.
“What is all this?” she asked him over one shoulder.
“Artifacts,” he said as he walked to the display to her right. “The history of Bajul’s past.”
Sunny moved closer to him and studied the primitive pottery, glossy stones and weathered scrolls. “I’m no historian, but that all looks rather ancient.”
“It is. Most of these relics were excavated in the desert region to the south of the mountains.”
“That must have taken several years.”
“It did take some time, yet it was worth my efforts.”
She shot him a surprised look. “You found all this?”
“Yes. On the land I own approximately eighty kilometers from here.”
While she mentally converted that into fifty miles, Sunny went back to surveying the artifacts. “Interesting. Is it a mountainous area?”
“No. The terrain is flat, and the climate much more arid.”
One thing about Bajul—its topography was as varied as the state of Texas. “Do you prefer the desert?”
He inched a little closer to her side. “Yes. It holds a certain magic, particularly in the evening.”
Cue the return of the midnight lovemaking fantasies. “Yes, it does. There’s nothing quite like a warm breeze on your face while stargazing. I remember that from a trip to the Sahara.”
“Would you wish to experience it again?”
“Experience what?” she asked, the rasp in her voice indicating her recent penchant for wicked yearnings.
“The desert and my
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