Heart of the Desert

by Carol Marinelli

  He could not not kiss her.

  Just a kiss, and as he moved to her mouth for a moment he fought it.

  ‘What would happen?’ Georgie whispered, and he could taste her sweet breath.

  ‘Nothing probably.’ With her next to him, he could rationalise it. ‘As I said, look at my parents …’

  ‘But they still love each other,’ Georgie said. ‘They’re still bound. Felicity told me—’ she did not know if she was betraying a secret ‘—that Karim wouldn’t let her leave the desert till—’

  ‘It’s old wives’ tales.’ He was sure of it now. ‘After all, I can bring a mistress from the palace to the desert and I am not bound to her. It’s just superstition.’

  ‘Why doesn’t she come to you?’ Georgie asked. ‘I mean, when you’re younger. Why do you have to walk to the palace?’ She liked the tales, liked hearing the stories.

  ‘It would be different.’ Ibrahim said. ‘Your first time, at such a young age, you would not be able to separate the two—and if you love her in the desert …’ It was too illogical to even try to explain it, so he smiled instead and felt her calm beside him. There was peace in his heart this morning that had been absent for ages, forgiveness in his soul, and he would be forever grateful to her for that, and he really could not not kiss her.

  And that had caused trouble before, but this was a different kiss: this was slow and non-urgent and, a first for Ibrahim, it was a kiss that was purely tender.

  And a kiss couldn’t hurt when it felt so nice, and she was content with his kiss, because she’d craved it for months. The taste of his tongue and the weight of his lips. For a while Ibrahim too was content, to feel her breast through the fabric as his mouth explored hers, but then a kiss did not quite suffice, and he opened the buttons as far as they would go. ‘Did your sister design this gown for you?’ he teased, because even with all the buttons undone, he still couldn’t get to her breast and his hand slid to her waist to pursue from a different angle, but that would not be wise so, just a little disgruntled, he pulled back.

  His eyes asked permission, for what she didn’t know, but she licked her lips in consent and he tore the fabric and went back to kissing her. She felt his sigh of satisfaction in her mouth as his hand, unhindered now, met her breast, and she kissed him and felt the satin of his skin beneath her fingers. It was still just a kiss, though her hands roamed. They felt the chest she’d once touched and explored it again, felt the dark, flat nipple beneath the pads of her fingers. It remained at a kiss even as her hands slid down.

  And then, recalling last night, there was hesitation, but his apology came by way of his hands that led her to him and he moaned in her mouth as she held him.

  Still just a kiss as she touched and explored what all night she had thought of, then it was far more than a kiss because his mouth would not suffice and her lips trailed down his torso, tasting the salt of his skin till Ibrahim halted her, because he wanted more of her, wanted longer with her, than her mouth would allow.

  ‘We mustn’t.’ Georgie said, as he pulled her body over his, because she was starting to understand there were rules.

  ‘We won’t,’ Ibrahim said, because he had more control than anyone, that much he knew.

  He liked living on the edge, the brink, and this morning he did just that. ‘We can do this.’ Ibrahim said, and he pulled her till her legs were astride him. He took a breast in his mouth and his hands slid over her bottom, and she steadied herself with her hands and thought she would die because it felt like heaven.

  ‘We can’t,’ she said, which was different from the I can’t she had once halted him with.

  ‘We won’t,’ he insisted, as the tip of his thick length stroked her clitoris and he waited for the wind to warn him, or for a sign to halt him, or for Georgie to again recant. Except the desert was silent and there was nothing to halt him, and Georgie bit down on her lip to stop herself begging him to enter her.

  She didn’t need to.

  He slipped in just a little way and she could never again say no to him, because he felt sublime.

  And there was only one law that they followed, and that was nature’s. He inched into her and then lifted her just a little further each time. He wanted the stupid nightdress off, but he did not want to stop touching her for a second. It was Georgie who lifted the fabric over her head and at the sight of her arms upstretched and her body above him he could no longer tease and cared nothing for rules, and he pulled her full down onto him.

  The force of full entry had her cry in surprise, so purposefully and assuredly, he filled her, and though she tried to stretch for more of him, her body clamped down in possession, as if to assure herself she wouldn’t flee from him again. He watched, he slid up on the cushions so he could watch them, and she saw more than passion in his eyes. She saw something else too and she wanted to share it, so he pushed her head down a little, so she could share in the dark and light they made. She loved the rules as she watched them unite, she wanted to be bound for ever. Then he guided her head to his and his cool tongue met hers—every beat of her orgasm matched his, every finger knotted in his hair met by the tug on her own scalp. Then, afterwards, their eyes were mirrors both searching for regret or dread at dues now to be paid, and both finding none.

  She lay beside him, knew he was thinking and so too was she. ‘Later today …’ he kissed her shoulder, as if confirming a thought ‘… I will take you back to the palace and then I must leave for London.’

  ‘You’re leaving?’

  ‘I have to go.’

  She looked up at him.

  ‘I need to speak properly with my father. I need to think about …’ He didn’t say ‘us’, but she was sure that he almost did. ‘He has flown there today to visit my mother.’

  ‘Because of what you said to him?’

  ‘In spite of what I said to him.’ The loathing in his voice did not match their tender mood.

  ‘Is it always like this between you?’

  ‘Always,’ Ibrahim said. ‘He demands I respect him—but how? Why can’t he just let her go?’

  ‘Let her go?’ Georgie didn’t understand. After all, his mother had her own life in London.

  ‘She is still his wife.’ Ibrahim looked down at her, took in the flushed cheeks and rumpled hair, and it felt so good to share his thoughts with her. ‘She regrets her indiscretion—so much so that all this time she has stayed loyal.’

  ‘But it’s been years.’

  ‘And there will be many more years. After all this time ignoring her, now he drops in at will. Who’s to say next month, next year he will be too busy? And she is expected to wait.’

  ‘Can’t she divorce him?’

  ‘There is no divorce in Zaraq. It is so forbidden that there is not even a word for it. A lacuna, there is no concept, no precedence. My mother knows that even if legally it is taken care of overseas, still always, to him, to the people of Zaraq, she is his wife and nothing can change it.’

  He did not notice her flushed cheeks pale suddenly.

  ‘There’s nothing that can change it?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Ibrahim confirmed, and she felt her heart still. ‘You cannot undo what is done—that is the rule of Zaraq.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  HAPPY its work had been done, the desert was silent and finally Ibrahim slept. Unlike on the plane, now, for the first time, he looked relaxed, and as she watched him, it was Georgie who was tense. She was starting to make sense of the strange rules, could see now what Felicity had been saying—that to the people of Zaraq she was still married.

  Ibrahim would not mind, she tried to console herself. He would understand, she tried to convince herself, but wrapped in his arms she was unable to face him, felt like a liar, and she rolled over in shame.

  At what point should she have said it?

  Yesterday, or at the wedding? Was she supposed to walk up to someone and give them so much of herself on contact? But there had been opportunities, her conscience reminded her.
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  She had tried to tell him last night, but he had halted her, Georgie told herself, then guiltily admitted she had been relieved when he had stopped her, more than pleased to avoid seeing his face when she revealed the truth.

  Georgie closed her eyes, and his arm wrapped around her, his warm, sleek body spooned in from behind. There was a possessiveness there that felt tender. There was a beauty in his embrace and a promise in his words that told her this had meant something to Ibrahim, that again they had glimpsed a future, but with what she knew now it was a future that again she might have to deny him. It was an uneasy sleep she fell into, filled with dreams of sacred oils and laughing winds, man-made structures and the sound of an engine.

  ‘Get dressed.’ His voice was urgent and jolted her awake. ‘Someone is coming. I heard a helicopter.’ The noise hadn’t been a dream. She could hear the whir of the blades slowing. Surely there was time to race back to her room. All she had was a torn nightgown. He threw her a sash of cloth as he pulled on his clothes and she went to dash to her own quarters, but even as she stepped outside, she knew she had left it too late. She stood, shivering and embarrassed in the lounge area, and she couldn’t look at Karim so she turned pleading eyes to Felicity, whose face was as white as chalk.

  ‘Enjoying your tour?’ Felicity sneered. ‘So where’s your expert guide?’ Georgie was incredibly grateful when Ibrahim, dressed, thoroughly together and not remotely embarrassed, appeared from his chamber and took control.

  ‘Your sister and I intended to return last night. There was a storm …’

  ‘Enough!’ Karim’s shout was to silence his younger brother, but Ibrahim refused.

  ‘Georgie, go and get dressed,’ Ibrahim said, his voice supremely calm, ‘and I will take you back to the palace.’

  ‘Ibrahim,’ Karim warned, but it fell on deaf ears.

  ‘Go,’ he said to Georgie. ‘I will speak with my brother.’ He eyed him darkly. ‘We have done nothing wrong.’

  ‘I warned you!’ Karim shouted. ‘I warned you to stay away from her.’

  ‘And I chose not to listen. How dare you both walk in here with rage in your eyes and shame her? Have you forgotten how you met your wife?’

  Georgie watched colour flood Felicity’s cheeks—for their one night of passion had resulted in Azizah. But her sister seemed to have forgotten that fact as she followed Georgie to her room because Felicity was incensed. ‘How could you, Georgie? This is my husband’s family. You’ve been here a few days and you tumble into bed with him.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  ‘Oh, please.’

  ‘As Ibrahim said, you hardly waited before you jumped into bed with Karim,’ Georgie retaliated.

  ‘We weren’t in Zaraq!’ Felicity said. ‘Here you play by the rules.’

  ‘You know what?’ Georgie had had enough. ‘You really are starting to sound like them. What happened to my sister?’

  ‘She grew up,’ Felicity shouted. ‘She behaved responsibly—but you were never very good at that were you, Georgie? Bunking off school, running away from home …’ And Georgie could see the years of hurt she had caused in her sister’s eyes, the hurt she had apologised for over and over again.

  ‘I’ve done everything I can to help you and now you do this.’ Felicity had tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘I paid for your rehab when I couldn’t afford it. Karim has helped too.’

  ‘And I’m very grateful,’ Georgie said, but she recalled Ibrahim’s words and would not feel beholden.

  ‘So this is how you show it!’ Felicity shrilled.

  Georgie did not break and she did not crumple, because all it was was a row, a confrontation that needed to be had, and no longer was she scared of it. ‘I don’t have to show anything.’ Georgie said, her voice calm. ‘I’m a different woman now; I’m a different person from who I was all those years ago. Ibrahim and I weren’t just having a bit of fun.’ She was sure of that, quite sure.

  ‘It is fun to Ibrahim! Don’t you get it? All this is to him is a diversion, a bit of fun to pass the time while he’s here.’

  ‘I don’t have to prove him to you,’ Georgie said.

  I haven’t got time for this.’ Felicity shook her head. ‘I have to wash and get changed and get back out there. They’re loading the helicopter.’

  ‘Can we just talk?’ Georgie begged, because things needed to be said, the air needed to be cleared so they could both move on fully. ‘Felicity please, I really need—’

  ‘You always need something from me, Georgie, yet you give nothing back.’ Felicity shouted. ‘Right now, I don’t have time for it. There are people who are sick, you selfish cow, and Karim and I need to get back out to them. For once it isn’t all about you!’

  And she swept out and left Georgie reeling but angry. How dared her sister dash in and pass judgment? She was sick of them, sick of Zaraq and its so-called mysterious ways that only applied when was convenient.

  And Ibrahim was sick of it too.

  ‘They are the rules!’ Karim roared. ‘Only a king can change them. If you love her, then you stay in London. You have the rest of the world to be the prince of your choice, but here, in this land, you abide—’

  Ibrahim could not stand to hear it said again and he interrupted with a shout of his own. ‘Then I leave the land behind.’

  ‘Ibrahim.’ Karim wished it was that easy. He ached for his brother, physically. ‘You are a royal prince of this land—our people are sick. Hassan is with his new baby, he has a fever …’ He saw his brother’s appalled expression. ‘He will be okay, but he was a little premature. Hassan should be there for him. The king is in England, I am needed in the desert. Can you really walk away now we need you to be the ruler you were born to be?’

  ‘I am not walking away.’ Ibrahim’s voice was hoarse, realisation hitting him. He was being asked to step in and he met that challenge. ‘Of course I will stay while I am needed, and our father will return when he hears the news.’

  ‘That may not be possible. I have spoken with advisors—they suggest closing the airports.’

  ‘Fine,’ Ibrahim said. ‘I will step in as leader.’ But as leader Ibrahim had rules of his own and spelt them out. ‘Georgie will be by my side.’

  ‘No,’ Karim said, for it was impossible.

  ‘She is mine now,’ Ibrahim said, because for once the rules worked for him. After all, he had slept with her in the desert.

  ‘She can never be yours.’ Karim took no pleasure in delivering the news, no relish in revealing the secret his wife had shared with him the other night. ‘She is married.’ He watched darkness descend on his brother.

  ‘No.’

  ‘She is divorced, but ….’ Ibrahim closed his eyes as his brother continued. ‘You know that does not count here. She cannot live with you here—she cannot be your bride.’ Every word was like a hammer on his flesh but still Ibrahim stood. He sought a solution.

  ‘She can wait for me in London.’

  ‘As our mother waits for our father?’ Karim asked. ‘Would you really do that to Georgie?’

  Ibrahim shook his head. ‘Then do the right thing by her.’ Karim suppressed a roar. ‘End it with her properly—end it now so there can be no doubt in her mind.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘WILL you take care of Azizah for me?’ Felicity asked when Karim said it was time for them to leave.

  ‘Are you sure I’m responsible enough?’ Georgie responded tartly, but she could not sustain her anger, for she knew how much being apart from Azizah would hurt Felicity. ‘She’ll be fine.’ Georgie said and she took her sister in her arms and gave her a cuddle. For the first time she felt like the older one. ‘She’ll be completely fine.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Felicity was, but Georgie didn’t need her to be.

  ‘I hurt you,’ Georgie said. ‘All those years I was sick, I know how much it hurt you, and I was too weak then and too fragile for you to say how you felt. I’m not now.’ She gave her sister a smile. ‘Better out t
han in, so they say.’

  ‘Felicity,’ Karim called, and as together as Georgie felt, she didn’t go out and face her brother-in-law just yet.

  ‘You’d better go.’

  ‘There’s my milk …’

  ‘I know,’ Georgie soothed. ‘You just head out there and do what you have to do without worrying.’

  ‘I really am sorry …’ Felicity shivered ‘… for all the things I said.’

  ‘They’ve no doubt been building for a long time,’ Georgie said. ‘We’re fine now and you don’t have to worry about Azizah and neither do you have to worry about me any more.’

  Except Felicity knew that she did have to worry, at least for a little while longer. She could see her husband’s clenched jaw and Ibrahim’s stern features and knew that Ibrahim had been told.

  A fully dressed, blushing Georgie forced herself out of her room to say farewell to Karim and Felicity and she and Ibrahim stood in silence as they watched the helicopter leave.

  ‘I must get back to Azizah,’ Georgie said. ‘How long will the drive take?’

  ‘A helicopter is being sent.’ He did not, could not, look at her. ‘I need to get back to the people as soon as possible.’ He felt it descend then, the weight of responsibility. ‘I am to stand in as ruler. Decisions need to be made swiftly. There will be a lot of anxiety, a lot of unrest.’

  ‘You’ll be wonderful,’ Georgie said, and went to touch his arm, but he moved it away. ‘I’ll help in any way I can.’

  ‘You?’ He could not keep the mirth from his voice.

  ‘Yes, me.’

  ‘A four-week course and you’re an expert suddenly in the ways of the desert?’

  She couldn’t understand the change in him. ‘I wasn’t applying for the job of your advisor!’ Georgie snapped back at him. ‘So I’m good enough to sleep with, but not good enough to stand by your side.’