by Raine Hughes
“But this is.” The whispered words came with a tickle to his ear.
Noah turned his head ever so slightly. A fiery wreath circled Jasmine’s head. Despite the perspiration that poured from him, his blood ran cold at the sight. Candles! Similar wreaths appeared around her wrists and ankles, as well as around her waist. The flames should be scorching her bare midriff and setting her hair and clothing on fire!
They weren’t. But he couldn’t even gulp down his saliva.
Jasmine began to dance to the muted sounds of a flute. Noah watched, spellbound at each provocative, sensual movement. The gentle gyrating of her hips, along with the mesmerizing way her bellybutton moved, entranced him.
“Dance with me, Noah,” she whispered. When he retained a stunned inability to move, she reached out and took his hands to guide them through the candle flames. She planted them on her bare ribs.
Noah’s awe at the way she moved under his touch kept his hands there. A spell must have been cast on him and he didn’t care one bit. He just wanted to feel Jasmine’s silky smooth skin under his fingers, to read her sensual body language with his hands and through his eyes, to drown in the dark seductive pools of her eyes, hot and molten.
She was dancing for him, only him. She might as well have been naked; he was sure he couldn’t have been more mesmerized by her beautiful writhing body, hot under his touch. It felt like his core was growing unbearably warm and it had nothing to do with the ring of fire that surrounded them. Jasmine had ignited a flame within him and it threatened to erupt into an inferno. He couldn’t break free.
He didn’t want to.
Her eyes were a burning amber color this time, the reflected flames around them flickering there, drawing him closer. He was barely aware of moving with her, following each step, each sway of her hips, until they were gyrating as one, thigh to thigh, belly to belly and he didn’t feel one bit awkward. It was but a tiny movement that brought their lips together, melding them as one for a kiss that was like no other he had yet experienced with his Djinni, his Candle Princess.
She trembled in his arms as she eagerly returned his embrace. Their tongues dueled in a wild match that left him breathless and still he could not relinquish her mouth. Music filled his mind, alternating with crescendos high and low, like the soaring of his heart that was struggling to keep up with Jasmine’s.
Her heart danced wildly as he cupped a breast in his palm. His own heart was beating in double-time, expelling hot blood to his extremities. For the love of God, he would go up in flames at any moment! Did the Devil have a hand in this?
That gave him pause, enough time to regain some semblance of control. With a groan, he wrenched his mouth from hers and touched them to her forehead. He lavished kisses on her there, helpless to make the final break and withdraw. His breathing remained fast and heavy, evidence that the turmoil still residing in his chest was one that he just couldn’t tame.
* * *
Awareness came slowly to Jasmine after the searing kiss. The fire blazing away around them was nothing compared to the inferno that roared within her. Noah’s kiss, his touch, the way he molded her body to his… Aaah. No Djinni male can ever ignite me like this. Instinctively she knew none ever would.
The visions dancing in her brain went on and on, premonitions of what it would be like when they made love, how their bodies would embrace each other, how their hearts would welcome every move and murmur. All would be evidence of a great, shared love.
They were wrong—her father and the other Djinn—if they thought that mortals were dull and boring. If her father had known otherwise, he never would have flung her into the unknown to experience mortal man. So far the experiencing exceeded everything she had ever dreamed of.
If only she could convince Noah that she would not disappear, that she really wanted to remain with him as his lover, as his life mate, it would ease his mind, she was sure. She knew with certainty that Noah D’Ark would never accept anything less than everything, the full commitment of two people in love.
But, Noah would not even declare his love, much less act on it, if he thought that their love would be detrimental to her in any way. She could feel him fighting his desire every time he summoned the strength to withdraw from her. He would never allow her to sacrifice her status with the Djinn for him. She would have to show him that loving him would not be a sacrifice. It would only be what she wanted, that it was all right to fall in love with this particular Djinni, especially since she was not like most Djinn.
Her great-grandmother had always said Jasmine was special. She had the blood of two worlds flowing through her veins, and that allowed her to partake of both of those worlds in a way that most never could. Yes, there were some barriers to be tackled. That thought was unsettling because she had never contemplated such before, and was uncertain of what was involved. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought it would be an issue.
But for now, she had the here and now to tackle. “May I light your tree?”
Noah slowly lifted his forehead from hers. “Wwwhat?” It seemed to take forever for the dazed look to clear from his eyes.
Jasmine was extremely pleased at the effect she had on him. “Trust me to put cold candles on your tree, Noah.”
“Oh! The tree!” He pulled himself out of his daze with a jerk, looking guilty when he discovered that his hands were still firmly and possessively clasped around her waist. He didn’t immediately snatch them away as he once would have. Noah made a visible effort to regain his composure and that told her something of the changes taking place in him, too.
His glances darted from where the wreaths of heatless fire had been on her body then to the ring of scorched, snowless ground that surrounded them. With a swallow that looked to require effort, he confirmed in a low voice, “The candles were cold.”
“But your fire was like this,” Jasmine said boldly as she indicated the extinguished ring of fire that had melted the snow in a wide band of bare ground. The effect of her bold words was nearly ruined by the shiver in her voice, for now that the fire was gone, the cold was biting. “You have powers you did not know you have.”
“You mean you felt it, too?” His whispered words were shaky, but she did not think it was because he was cold.
“The fire inside us?” Jasmine confirmed the mutual feeling with a nod. “You must explore your internal fire. We both need to know it more thoroughly, to understand and fully enjoy it. That is how I learned all about fire and candles and my powers.”
He swallowed visibly once more, eyes wide as he regarded her. Without saying anything more, he led the way back into the house, her hand firmly clasped in his. Inside Noah drew her in front of the Christmas tree. “Take your time, Princess,” he said, stepping behind her and without hesitation for once, wrapped his arms about her.
His breath was warm on her neck. Finally she ceased shivering. With a care to her movements, the tree was lit with a thousand candles, each one delicate and shimmering. She felt his smile in the movement of his face against her cheek.
“You’re really one remarkable woman, Princess Jasmine. I always sensed that maybe I needed an extraordinary person to be my partner in the venture of the ark. Now…” He let the sentence fall, frustrating her once more. What had he been about to say?
“You are special, Jasmine, and not just because you’re supernatural.” He swallowed audibly. “Right now I don’t care.” He kissed the nape of her neck and tightened his arms around her as they gazed at the tree that cast a magical aura around them. It was part of the magic of Noah.
Chapter 11
Herman D’Ark was nothing like the verbal picture Noah had presented. Jasmine liked the big Noah-look-alike the instant she opened the inside porch door to his knock. It was obvious he had reservations about her, though. His jaw had dropped noticeably as she greeted him dressed in the red top, green pants, and black jacket combination she’d worn when Noah discovered her on his doorstep. Today it was topped off with a black scarf woven
into her hair, bound in the usual topknot. The scarf flared out around her neck and shoulders, revealing crimson and emerald threads running through it. After undergoing a very warm appraisal from Noah earlier, she was aware that it framed her face as well as warmed her neck, heightening her features to advantage.
She had worn it deliberately to gain Noah’s attention. She had never purposely made an effort to look attractive for a master, but with Noah, she did. It always worked. He definitely had taken a second and a third look at her morning entrance, no matter that it was her favorite and most often worn outfit. Herman D’Ark was giving her more than a cursory glance, too.
“You like?” She did a little pirouette before him. “It is one of Noah’s favorites though he will not let me wear it for anyone but him.” Herman D’Ark’s eyes seemed to grow larger but he did manage to bring his jaw into place. “He does not want to make the others jealous, I think!” She giggled as the big man remained speechless.
“I have made introductions with your Martha so you know I am Jasmine. You are Noah’s father. I am much delighted to meet you.” His head kept bobbing but he remained silent so she went on. “Noah, I think, is working on the fences and pens behind the barn today, while I struggle with a recipe book.” She sniffed with pretended mortification. “I would much rather be outside helping him but he says I am a distraction.”
“Y-e-s-s.” Herman D’Ark finally got out and continued speaking as if he had to think about it. “I believe I did hear him back there.” Then his sights caught the new curtains framing the windows over the table and sink.
Jasmine, too, looked at the riot of colors that had definitely changed the character of the room. “Noah loves color, but he resists the change until it is done.”
She watched him give her a long assessing look while she maintained eye contact.
“My wife said you are an interior decorator, that you’d done some changes in the house.” His voice was not so hesitant now. “She said you also designed your own clothes. Is this creation typical to your country?”
Jasmine smiled. “Do you like it?”
His nod wasn’t one of approval or disapproval. “Don’t you find it a little chilly?”
“Oh, no, Noah keeps me warm.”
For some reason, the older man’s jaw dropped once more. Jasmine could not think of the error she had made before he recovered.
“Despite what my wife and others say, I have no idea of your foreign background but given your fair use of English, I presume you have lived in this country for some time?” A faint blush tinged his neck indicating he was fumbling for the correct words as well. “Of course, I don’t place too much store in what others say, which is why I thought I’d drop in and see… er, hear for myself what’s going on.” He frowned, plainly perplexed with his own words.
Jasmine suspected that the man before her was not often flummoxed. “I come directly from the deserts that are a part of Saudi Arabia,” she offered.
It did not explain her English, but he seemed satisfied. “Perhaps later you’ll tell me more about yourself. I’ll just go hunt up my son for now.” He touched a hand to the brim of his fur cap and backed down the short flight of steps before turning to open the outside door.
Jasmine watched him head for the area behind the barn, his gaze moving from one Christmas scene to another. At one point he stopped and stared outright. She giggled. The poor man was no doubt reeling from the series of surprises. Noah had painted him as a stern but fair, thoughtful man with a sense of humor and a strong religious conviction. She suspected his slow speech was normal because he chose his words carefully before delivering them.
* * *
“There you are.”
Noah’s stomach leap-frogged. Didn’t take Dad long to drop by. When he’d spoken to his mother on the phone last night, she’d been expecting him as soon as he picked up a few things in town. No doubt he had also picked up on all the town gossip, which, of course, the town’s citizens would be eager to impart.
“Good to see you home, Dad,” Noah turned to say with enthusiasm. “You were gone quite a while this trip.”
“Too long apparently,” Herman D’Ark said as he fixed him with a meaningful look. Noah chose to ignore it and maintained eye contact. “Yeah. Mom was getting lonely. She’s been baking up a storm, more than I … we can eat. Good thing you’re home to help deplete the stores some.”
He turned and finished pounding in a spike, simultaneously saying, “I’ll be ready for the ark come spring,” then hung up his hammer and met his father’s gaze again. “I’m going ahead with it, as you’ve no doubt heard.”
The older man nodded. “You’ve made a lot of changes since I was here last, son.” After another penetrating look at Noah, he leaned on the fence and looked out over Noah’s handiwork.
Noah knew his father wasn’t just referring to the pens he was building. “You should see the changes in the house, too, Dad. Jasmine, my houseguest for now, has worked wonders on the place and she’s fascinated with the prospect of doing the same on my ark.”
“I noticed what she did in the kitchen.” At Noah’s upraised eyebrows, he added, “I stopped there first, met your… houseguest. She just drop in?”
“Out of the blue, you could say. I wasn’t exactly expecting her.” Noah decided it best not to qualify that statement. Sometimes, it was better to say little to lend evidence one way or the other.
“I heard something about a mail order bride.”
“There’s that story, too, isn’t there?” Noah grinned and refrained from confirming or denying that. It was bad enough misleading his parents. He wouldn’t lie, too, even though his previous evasive statement lent credence to the story. It couldn’t be helped. It took supreme effort to return his father’s gaze evenly, to show he had nothing to hide, nor be ashamed of.
“She always dress like that?” His father set on a different approach.
Noah nodded and let his pent-up breath out evenly. “She’s from Arabia, Dad, and while some do dress conventionally, she prefers her costume. I have to admit, I’m partial to it, too.” Herman D’Ark lifted an eyebrow. Noah shrugged and said, “There’s a lot about Jasmine I like. She’d surprise you.”
God only knew what the religious man was thinking as he bobbed his head.
“Come in for a cup of tea. Jasmine makes a fabulous pie, too, though she has difficulty mastering some of our other cooking customs, but then we all have our weaknesses.”
“Speaking of which, there’s talk around town, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that. After all, when a woman moves in with a man, whether or not they intend to marry…”
“Gossip is juicy, I’ve no doubt,” Noah conceded without taking the bait. “But, as with any gossip, you can’t believe everything you hear.”
His father opened his mouth and must have decided against saying the obvious, because after a brief hesitation, he said, “That pie sounds good.”
They headed for the house, side by side. Noah could only imagine what the scene would have been like had his father, rather than his mother, shown up on his doorstep that first time. If he’d seen his houseguest wrapped up in that emerald sheath, looking exotic and rendering Noah star-struck…
Herman D’Ark was a very old-fashioned man, more so being a clergyman. No doubt his mother had filled her husband in on the supposed details of Jasmine’s presence. Unlike her husband, his mother tended to see the innocence of everything.
As Noah held the door open he called out, “Dad’s come for tea and pie.” It occurred to him that Jasmine might have changed into something similar to what she had worn the day his mother dropped in. He fervently hoped that wouldn’t be the case. He just knew he would never be able to appear unaffected with his father looking on.
“The kettle is hot and so is the pie,” Jasmine called out as Noah entered first to allow her time to create the pie. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her morning outfit, as his father must have already seen her. He sidestepped
to reveal their guest and she offered a disarming grin.
“I gather you two have met but let me introduce you anyway,” Noah said. “Jasmine, this is Pastor Herman, my father.”
Jasmine bowed with a bounce of her hair and steepled fingers. Her eyes sparkled as she looked back at Noah, her affection clear even to him. Noah managed to quietly suck in a much-needed gulp of air. With effort, he tore his gaze from hers, only to observe the intense scrutiny they were under. Well, maybe his father had needed to see the exchange.
“Have a seat, Dad.” Noah offered him a chair and took the one opposite. “Jasmine got me busy refinishing the table. Looks lots brighter, doesn’t it? There will be a lot of woodwork on the old ferry that will need refurbishing, too, so I… that is, we thought we better try our hands on this table first.”
They both watched as Jasmine poured the water into the teapot and set it on the table. Noah held back a smile at the way his father scrutinized Jasmine’s harem outfit, even while he absent-mindedly ran his hand over the table.
Noah could well identify with that intense appraisal as the fabric glided snugly over her heart-shaped bottom. When she turned, her belly button was not quite round, but instead was an oval shape that seemed to wink at him. He was relieved to see their guest focused instead on what she was carrying. D’Ark men loved pie.
Jasmine set wedges of the dessert in front of them that they immediately tucked into for the D’Ark signature first taste. “Ice cream?” She went to the refrigerator to pull out a bowl of vanilla ice cream, Noah’s favorite flavor as he’d told her. “I just made this, too.”
Noah choked. “Jasmine,” he warned when he could stop coughing.
“Turned out even better than I expected,” she murmured with utter innocence, scooping generous helpings of the creamy white stuff onto the hot pie before coming to stand beside Noah. He had to motion her to sit.
Herman D’Ark chuckled, though over what, he was afraid to speculate on. Noah feared he was gathering his thoughts, preparing an interrogation most people failed to recognize.