seat near one of the windows and prepared for the landing. The dark desert below was illuminated by the lights of the airfield they circled. She said, “I feel like a teenager sneaking around in the middle of the night, hoping we don’t get caught.”
Rachid claimed the seat beside her and secured himself in. “It’s imperative that no one discovers you’re here. There are those who would . . .”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “Trust me, you don’t have to explain. No one can ever know about this.”
“I have to be in Nilon, the capital city, by tomorrow evening. If we fly you out around eleven, you should be back on Isola Santos by evening. Will that work for you?”
Who knew heaven came with an itinerary?
Odd as it was to step outside their passion and define the parameters of their time together, it was also somehow reassuring. They were free to be as honest and intense as they wanted to be without real risk – safe in the knowledge that, although exciting, this would change nothing.
The lush gardens of the Salnyra Oasis buffered the ancient castle from the harshness of the surrounding desert. It was easy to imagine the luxurious comfort it had once provided weary travelers in the past. A reprieve sustained by the teasing generosity of an underground river that kept its precious, life-giving waters otherwise hidden.
The castle itself proudly displayed the scars of time. Outside of the modern lighting visible through the windows, it looked as it probably had for centuries. A place outside of time. The perfect place to escape to.
A lone man dressed in a long white robe and matching white keffiyeh met them on the airfield. Rachid issued a few curt instructions in Arabic. The man said something quickly, then bowed and disappeared back into the castle.
Rachid’s expression softened when he looked down at Zhang and said, “Come, everything is prepared.”
But am I? Zhang thought nervously.
When you’re going to do something outrageous and spontaneous, you really shouldn’t give yourself time to think about it. We’ve already been intimate. What am I afraid of?
He led her down immaculate but aged hallways to two ornate wooden doors. Releasing her hand, he opened the doors, and Zhang gasped at what his move revealed.
In every direction, tapestries hung from the center of the tall ceiling and cascaded down the walls, creating the illusion of being inside a lavish tent. The room was lit softly by candles that were scattered on small tables around the room. The entire floor was covered with a ridiculous number of richly colored pillows.
Okay, finally reality trumped fantasy.
Zhang entered the room in wonder, allowing herself time to appreciate the care that had gone into creating this setting. She turned to Rachid and said, “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”
He stood beside her, his hand resting possessively at the base of her spine, and said, “Surely you have spent time with men of wealth and influence before.”
Zhang looked up him and said, “Yes, but often they’re so concerned with showing me what they have that they don’t listen to what I need.” She laid a grateful hand on one of his shoulders. “No one has ever gone this far to please me.”
“Then you’ve been with the wrong men.”
“Man,” Zhang corrected quietly.
Rachid smiled, “Is it wrong that I’m pleased to hear that?”
She smiled back. “A little.”
He pulled her against him and rubbed her back absently. “Just before we entered the castle, a small line of worry appeared right here.” He lightly touched the middle of her forehead with one finger. “You don’t owe me anything, Zhang. If this isn’t what you want, the plane is likely already refueled. Say the word and you’re free.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Beneath the wildness of the evening there was something much more tempting, and it needed to be denied or it would threaten the safety of their deal. No tomorrows, just
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