He loved hearing her talk period. Her voice carried a trace of accent. Her Arabic was quite fluent, but softer than most women’s. He liked it.
“Khalid!”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“I asked how long it would take to drive back to the coast. Where were you?” She peered up at him.
“Woolgathering. It takes about eight hours. It’s a long and boring drive. The road is straight as a stick and there’s nothing but sand and scrub bushes as far as the eye can see. We can do it, but I’d rather fly home and spend the afternoon at the beach.”
“That does sound nice.”
The maître d’ appeared and showed them to a secluded table. He presented the menus with a flourish then quietly bowed away.
“No argument? I thought you wanted to drive home,” he said.
“Well, you’ve obviously been across the desert and if it looks all the same, maybe I don’t need to experience it for eight hours. You can take me on another trip to the desert if I need more inspiration,” she replied, looking at the menu.
“Maybe.”
She looked up and grinned. “We are supposed to be engaged, remember?”
“I thought you wanted to talk about that,” he said. He had not planned for things to get complicated when he’d told her brother they were engaged. How was he to know it would come out and his mother would make a big production about it?
“So I do. How do we get out of it?”
He stared at her—realizing for the first time he did not want to get out of it. He could understand her haste in ending the agreement. Hadn’t his fiancée tossed him over because of the scar? But he wanted Ella to pretend a bit longer.
“We can say we fought on this trip and the deal is off,” he said slowly.
She looked at him thoughtfully. “So whose fault was it?”
He met her gaze, almost smiling. “Does it matter?”
“People will ask. And if they don’t, they will speculate.”
“Have it be mine. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does,” she said passionately. “If you break it off, that’s not very nice of you. And if I do, that doesn’t reflect well on me.”
“So I play the villain. It won’t impact my life.”
She shook her head slowly. “Not fair. You tried to help me out. And I appreciate it. Antonio would still be here trying to coerce me back to Italy if you hadn’t.”
“So if I can’t break it off and you can’t, we don’t.” Was that the solution? Keep the engagement going long enough for her to feel more comfortable around him. Would she ever see beyond the exterior to what he thought and felt? Could she ever fall in love with him?
Unlikely. She still loved her dead husband. And he sounded like a paragon. Intellectual. A professor. What did an oil field roustabout have to offer in comparison? Granted he had position in the country, but she hadn’t been very impressed being seen with a sheikh. He had money, but she came from money herself and was unimpressed. Not like other women he’d dated years ago. In fact, nothing seemed to impress Ella. That was one thing he loved—liked—about her. Money and stature and material items others were impressed by seemed inconsequential to her. She liked people—and it didn’t seem to matter what they had or did; if they were of interest to her, she was friendly. If not, she was cordial. And someone who knew her well could easily tell the difference.
“So we stay engaged for a while longer,” she mused. “Suits me.” Her attention turned back to her menu.
Khalid felt a strange relief at her compliance. At least for a while longer, they continued being engaged.
And didn’t engaged couples kiss?
The thought sprang to mind and wouldn’t leave. He glanced at her. Her attention on the menu, he had ample time to study her lips, imaging them pressed against his again. Imagine feeling her soft body against his, passion rising between them.
If he didn’t stop soon, he’d embarrass himself. He wanted dinner ordered eaten and over. They could walk to the square. The day’s heat was abating. It would cool down soon as the desert did at night. They could find a secluded spot and watch the stars appear. And he’d hold her and kiss her and pretend for one night everything was normal.
It almost worked that way. They agreed to stroll through town when dinner finished. And when they found a parapet overlooking a city garden, they leaned against the still-warm stone and tried to make out the plants in the garden. But the light faded quickly. Turning, Ella looked up at the sky. “It’s growing darker by the second. Soon a million stars will show.”
He nodded and stepped closer, bringing her into his arms. “And you are more beautiful than all of them,” he said, and kissed her.
Nothing was normal about that kiss. He felt every inch of his body come alive as he deepened the kiss. She responded like she had been waiting as long as he had. Her mouth was sweet and tender and provocative. Her curves met his muscles and tempted him even more. Her tongue danced with his, inflaming desire to a new level. The parapet disappeared. The stars were forgotten. There remained only the two of them, locked in an embrace that he wanted to go on forever.
Forgotten was the hideous scar that so repulsed others. Gone was the fear he would never find a woman to overlook the distortion even for a night. Khalid felt he was soaring. And he loved every moment.
If only it could last forever.
But it was not fair to Ella to kiss her when he’d coerced her into this engagement. Slowly he broke off the kiss, pleased when she followed him as he pulled back—obviously not wanting to end the kiss.
He was breathing hard when they parted. She was, too.
“Wow,” she said, then turned. “I think we should go back to the hotel.”
He wanted to agree—if she meant they’d go to his room. He wanted to make love to her so badly he ached from head to toe. Yet nothing she’d said or done gave him any indication that was where her thoughts were heading.
They turned and walked back toward the hotel.
“Did you arrange for Bethanne to pick us up tomorrow?” she asked as they came into the light spilling into the street from the hotel.
“She’ll be here at nine.”
“Good.”
When they entered the lobby, Ella quickened her pace. She punched the elevator button almost savagely. She hadn’t looked at him once since they came into the light.
“Ella, if you’re upset—”
“Why would I be upset?” she asked in a brittle tone. “Engaged couples kiss all the time.”
The elevator arrived and she stepped in, punching the number for her floor.
Khalid hesitated, then remained where he was. She did look up as the doors began to close.
“See you in the morning,” he said before she was lost from view.
Turning, he went back outside. A long walk—like maybe to Alkaahdar—was required. He hoped he had his head on straight come morning.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could she have responded so freely to Khalid’s kiss. No wonder she drove him away. He didn’t even want to escort her to her room. Probably thought she’d jump him and drag him inside. Ella paced her room, slapping the wall when she reached it. Turning, she paced to the other wall, slapped it. What could she do to make things come right? She knew he had only helped her out. There was nothing there. How could she have responded so ardently?
Because she loved him and knew he had been lacking in love for years. She wanted to hold him close, pour out her feelings, let him know she loved him beyond anything. But to do so would probably have him running for the nearest exit. A kindness to help her out of a jam didn’t mean he was falling for her. He had his life, she had hers.
“Stupid!” she almost shouted the word.
Taking a deep breath, she crossed to the bed and sat down hard. Nothing was going right. She was at odds with her family, had lost her husband—whom she was having trouble remembering when every time she tried her mind saw Khalid. She felt
a flare of panic. She couldn’t forget Alexander. He’d been her childhood sweetheart. They’d had a nice marriage. At one time she thought he was the only man for her.
Only Khalid had a way of making her forget him. Forget the sweet love they’d shared for the hot and passionate feelings that sprang to life anytime she saw Khalid. Or even thought about him.
Daydreams about what life together could be like. And fears for his safety. She had to get away. Pack her things, face her parents and take complete charge of her life. She didn’t have to marry anyone. It wasn’t her fault her brother had a gambling problem. Time he faced the music and not expect her to martyr herself on his behalf.
And if she made it big in art, great. If not, maybe she could do stained glass work, or something to keep doing what she loved. It wasn’t the same as sharing a life with a man she felt passionately about. But it would have to suffice.
If she could make it on her own. Somehow she must find a way to be self-supporting.
Which meant staying in the cottage was her best bet—the lease was solid for another four years. Khalid would get tired of hanging around and move on. Or sell the estate with the cottage occupied. She could make sure she didn’t walk along the beach at night. Or venture outside if she knew he was in residence.
She’d faced worse. She could do this.
“But I don’t want to,” she wailed, and burst into tears.
The next morning Ella felt more composed. She ate a small breakfast in her room. Made sure no traces of last night’s tears showed and descended to the lobby promptly at nine. Khalid was nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t gotten the time wrong, had she?
One of the porters saw her and came over. “I will take your bag. You should have called down. The taxi is waiting.”
So he wasn’t even going back with her. That should help. But Ella felt the loss to her toes. Much as she’d talked herself into staying away from him in the future, she still hoped to fly back with him this morning. Saying goodbye silently so he’d never know, but having a few more hours of his company. Now even that was denied her.
The gleaming white jet sat on the runway with a bevy of men working around it. The cab stopped near the plane and a man rushed over to get her bag. She felt like royalty. Tears stung as she tried to smile and walked to the plane. She missed Khalid and it had been less than ten hours since she’d seen him.
Bethanne popped out of the opened doorway. “Hey, let’s get a move on. I’ve got another run later,” she said with a wide smile.
It must not be odd that Khalid wasn’t with her, Ella thought as she ran lightly up the stairs.
“Where to later?” she asked, hoping Khalid would not be a topic of conversation.
“To take Khalid and his crew to that fire, of course. Didn’t he tell you? Since I was already airborne when the call came in, he’s staying here and I’m flying back to get the rest of his crew and then we’ll head for Kuwait.”
Ella felt her heart freeze. “Another fire?” she said. He had not told her. He had not contacted her at all that morning. Which should show her more than anything how nebulous their connection was. It was not her business after all. He saw no reason to inform her.
“A double from what I understand. Want to sit up in the cockpit? We can talk as I fly.”
In a surprisingly short time they were airborne. Ella was so curious about the fire she could hardly sit still. Respecting Bethanne’s need for concentration, she kept quiet until the pilot leveled out.
“There, all set. We’re heading for the capital city now,” Bethanne said.
Ella looked at her. “Tell me about the fire. Khalid didn’t say a thing to me about it.”
“It’s in Kuwait and a bad one. Apparently two wells, connected somehow, ignited. Seven men are known dead and a couple of others are missing. They says it’s burning millions of gallons of oil. And hot enough to be felt a half a mile away.”
“He can’t put it out,” Ella said, staggered trying to imagine the puny efforts of men to extinguish such a raging inferno.
“You know Khalid, he’ll do his best. And my money’s on him.”
“Someone should stop him,” Ella said.
“What?” Bethanne looked at her. “He’ll be okay. He always comes through.”
“He got burned pretty badly one time,” Ella reminded her.
“Freak accident.”
“Which could happen again. Good grief, if the heat is felt so far away, what would it be like close enough to cap it? It’s probably melting everything around it and there’d be nothing to cap.”
“So they put out the flames, let the oil seep and figure out a way to get into production again. That’s what Khalid does, and he’s really good at it, according to Rashid. Who, by the way, also wishes he wouldn’t do this job. But he knows Khalid is driven to do this and won’t stand in his way.”
Ella nodded, fear rising like a knot in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty, every fiber of her being wanting to see Khalid again.
She gazed out the window, wishing they’d arranged to ride back together in that air-conditioned car she’d wanted. They would have been out of contact, and someone else would be tapped to try to put out the oil fire. He’d be safe.
“When did the call come?” she asked.
“It happened last night. I suspect they called him once they saw what happened. He’s the world’s best, you know.”
“He should retire.”
Bethanne reached out and squeezed Ella’s hand. “I know, I’d feel that way if it were Rashid. But women can’t change men. My mother told me that fact years ago when explaining how she and my father married and then divorced. She had hoped having a family would be enough for him, but it never was. Some men are meant to do more adventurous things than others.”
“I’d hardly call putting out raging oil fires adventurous—more like exceedingly dangerous. Why couldn’t he have been a professor or accountant or something?”
Bethanne shrugged. “You might ask yourself why you’re engaged to the man. You knew what he did. Yet you plan to marry. It’s not going to get easier, but support is important.”
Ella couldn’t tell her why they were engaged. Apparently Rashid had kept Khalid’s secret. Ella couldn’t tell anyone she considered leaving Quishari because of Khalid. Maybe the decision would be taken from her. There was nothing she could do now but pray for his safety. She wished they’d ended the evening differently. That she had told him how much she cared. That she’d dare risk everything to let him know she loved him. Would she ever get that chance?
The flight seemed endless. She wanted more information. Could she call Khalid when they landed? She knew Bethanne was flying his crew back to Quraim Wadi Samil to pick him up and fly them all to Kuwait. He’d still be at the hotel. For a moment her mind went blank. What was the name of the hotel? She had to call him, tell him to be careful.
“Rashid will meet the plane,” Bethanne said after responding to flight control. She began descending. Ella could see the city, the blue of the Gulf beyond. But the beauty was lost, fear held her tightly. “He’s not going, is he?” Ella asked.
“No, he’s taking you home. I’ll be back late tonight. He didn’t want you to be alone.”
“Maybe I can work to take my mind off things,” she said. The truth was she couldn’t think about anything except Khalid and the danger he was facing.
“Go with Rashid. He’ll have the most current information about Khalid and the crew. Besides, he’s swinging by his mother’s place to update her. Dealing with Madame al Harum is enough to take anyone’s mind off troubles. That woman is a piece of work.”
Ella smiled despite her worry. “At least we have that in common. Do you think she’ll ever come around to accepting you?”
“My guess is once I have a baby or two.”
Ella blinked and gazed out the window. What if she and Khalid married and she had a baby? She remembered thinking about a little dark-eyed little girl, or a couple of rambunctiou
s boys that looked just like Khalid. How would she ever stand it if they wanted to grow up to be oil firefighters.
“Madame al Harum must be beside herself with worry,” she said. “I would be if it were my son going to fight that fire.”
“I would never let a son of mine grow up to do that,” Bethanne said.
“Thought you said a woman can’t change a man.”
“Well, then I’d start with a little boy.”
Ella laughed. Then almost cried when she thought more about the danger Khalid faced. How he’d once been an adorable little boy, running at the beach, playing with his twin. How quickly those years must have flown by.
Rashid was standing beside a limo when the plane taxied up to the hangar. There were a half dozen men near him with duffel bags and crates. As soon as the engines were shut down, men began swarming around the plane, loading everything. It was being refueled even as Ella stepped down the stairs. Bethanne followed, then hugged Rashid tightly.
“I wish you’d let someone else fly the plane,” he said.
“I’m going. Don’t argue. It’s Khalid you should be worried about. I’ll pick him up and then take them all to Kuwait. I’ll be home late tonight. You take care of Ella. I think she’s in shock.”
“No, I’m fine. I think I should go home.”
“You’re coming with me,” Rashid said.
She looked at him, almost seeing Khalid. Certainly hearing that autocratic tone of his. They looked so alike, yet so different.
“Any news?” she asked.
“Nothing beyond what we learned earlier. Once we reach home we’ll call Khalid. He’s been talking with the oil field people so will have the latest intel. This all you have?” he asked as one of the men put her bag in the trunk of the limo.
“Yes. It was a short trip.” Too short if it was to be the last time she saw Khalid.
Ella went with Rashid to his mother’s home. He did not speak on the ride except to try to reassure her that Khalid knew what he was doing and wouldn’t take any foolish risks. “Especially now,” Rashid said.
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