“Pretty,” she said, uncertainly, and he grinned at her again.
“Step forward slowly, and look down.”
Confused, she did what he said, and then she gasped. Directly beyond the tree was a steep and sudden drop-off, one that culminated in a rock floor some hundreds of feet below. Her heart pounding and her stomach falling like a brick, she stumbled back, looking at Makeen wide-eyed.
“Are you serious?” she asked.
He laughed at her shock. “I came up here once after my parents died to see this place. There were stories about this swing.”
Curiosity overcame her fear, and she tilted her head curiously at him. “Did you get on it?”
“Then? No. I thought perhaps that I would give it a try today. What about you? Do you want to?”
She bit her lip. Every bit of her common sense was telling her not to do this ridiculously foolish thing. It told her that under no circumstances should she get onto a swing that hung out over a steep drop and a fatal fall. However, there had been something growing in her ever since she laid eyes on Makeen. If he had looked at her and seen passion, she had looked at him and seen a kind of adventure that she had never thought possible.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do.”
“It's not safe,” he warned her, a bright light in his eyes. She knew then and there that he was teasing her, but she couldn't bring herself to care, not when there was an adventure awaiting.
“Do you mean that the chains are rotted through or something?”
He shook his head. “I had them replaced myself, and the tree has stood firm for years. No, I'm just saying that something like this, it is never entirely safe.”
“Nothing is, my sheikh,” she said with a wide grin. “Let me at it.”
“I'll go first,” he said, and for some reason, that made her prickle. He was going to go first? Of course he was the Sheikh. He was likely very used to getting his way. She narrowed her eyes, and came to a decision.
“Of course,” she said, and if her exaggerated courtesy made him raise an eyebrow, he only shrugged and headed for the swing. She followed along, her hands folded in front of her, as demure a lady as ever existed. She watched with maidenly decorum as he checked the chains, and then she stepped back with him as he seated himself on the board seat and walked it backwards.
“Are you ready?” she asked, and he smiled at her.
“Don't look so smug, you're doing this next,” Makeen said warningly.
As he leaned up on his toes to begin his swing, she laughed. “No, I'm not,” she grinned, and she hopped onto his lap.
She heard Makeen's sudden cry, but there was nothing he could do to stop their forward momentum. With Olivia straddling his lap and clinging to his chest, he had no choice but to follow the swing through, letting it carry them out over the drop-off and straight into the sky.
“You little fool!” he shouted, but all she could do was laugh, throwing her head back and opening her eyes to stare at the sky above.
She wasn't sure how she could feel it, but there was something about the swing that let her feel how far the ground was below her, perhaps some trick of gravity or some kind of trick of the light. They sailed over the edge, and for a single moment, it felt as if she were falling. Then the swing caught them, sending them back towards the safety of the ground. When Olivia thought that Makeen would drag them back to earth, she held on to him tighter.
“No,” she said pleadingly. “Please, again?”
He laughed at her bravery, and with a shrug, he pumped his legs and sent them swinging up towards the sky again. This time they sailed even higher, and their laughs mingled together. It was the closest thing that Olivia had ever imagined to flying, and she was doing it wrapped around the body of the most incredible man that she had ever known.
They flew out far over the drop-off, over and over again until they were both dizzy. Olivia could feel Makeen dragging them to a stop, and finally, they simply sat on the swing. When she pulled back to look at him, Makeen tilted his face forward, and they kissed, their bodies buzzing with a kind of pleasure she had never known.
“We should get off the swing,” she whispered. “It … it can't be safe to sit here so close to the edge.”
“You are absolutely the last person who should be saying one thing or another about safety,” he growled, but he stood with care, carrying her back to the safety of flat land.
When they were well away, he abruptly sat down, sitting her on his lap as they rested their shaking limbs.
“You are utterly insane, did you know that?' he demanded, and she threw her arms around him gleefully.
“It's been pointed out,” she said with just a touch of smugness. “Your face when you saw what I had done was amazing!”
“I wanted to tan your hide,” he admitted. “I have never seen such recklessness. You're going to give me gray hairs.”
She started to answer, but then she became abruptly aware of his body, of the way his cock was hardening inside his jeans, and how clearly she could feel it. She gasped a little, and Makeen made a slightly pained face.
“You should get up,” he said with a certain amount of humor. “After all, it really isn't going to get any better if you …”
His words halted with a gasp when she gently pressed her hand to the bulge in his jeans. Her eyes widened a little when she recognized how long he was, and how thick. Her fingers tightened reflexively around him, making him moan slightly. Eyes wide, she repeated the motion, and he thrust up into her hand.
“I …”
“Do you happen to know what you are doing?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Her head shot up, and she frowned at him. “Are you calling me some kind of innocent? Of course I—”
“Because unless your intent is to make me humiliate myself like a fourteen-year-old boy, you need to stop soon.”
She thought for a moment. “Soon?”
Never breaking eye contact with him, she stroked him twice and then nimbly leaped up off of his lap. As he glared at her, she grinned, tucking her hands behind her.
“You are a menace,” he growled, adjusting himself slightly before standing up. “I have no idea what anyone can do with you.”
“Feed me, let me nap, let me practice my violin?” she said pertly, and she was rewarded with a gust of laughter.
“If that will prevent you from jumping off into oblivion, of course.”
They made their way back to the house, but this time, instead of Makeen leading, they held hands, and inside her, Olivia felt something awakening that had never existed before.
Chapter Seven
Four days after their play on the swing, Makeen was unexpectedly called away. Olivia awoke, in her own bed this time, to find him pacing the front room, talking with someone on the phone with a harried sound to his voice. When he ended the call, he turned to her with a regretful look on his face.
“I'm sorry, but that was my assistant, Rosh. Something came up with the family business concerns, and I need to go attend to it.”
Olivia bit her lip. She didn't know what this meant or how she should react, but Makeen was already moving.
“It shouldn't take more than a day or so, but …”
“Can I stay here?” she blurted out.
Makeen turned to look at her with surprise. “Of course you can, if you wish,” he said. “I'll be busy, and unfortunately, I'll have no time to see you at all while this is going on. But it is isolated here …”
“As long as I can call for help, it shouldn't be a problem. Please?”
He looked at her for a moment, and suddenly she was afraid that he could see what she was thinking. She was afraid to lose the peace that she had found here. She was afraid that if they left this place, he would go back to being a sheikh, and she would return to being a girl trying to hustle on the street with her violin. In the back of her mind, she knew that it was going to happen at some point, but she wasn't ready for it to happen just yet.
Finally, Makeen nodded. “Of course. Whatever you like. But at the first sign of trouble, I want you to call me or one of these numbers that I will give you.”
By the time he was certain that she was prepared in case of an emergency, the plane had arrived for him, and he sighed again. Before he could leave, Olivia threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.
“Come back soon,” she said softly, not looking up at him.
He chuckled, a note of surprise in his voice. “And here I thought that you were getting tired of me. Don't worry. I'll get back here as soon as I can, and that is a promise.”
He tilted her chin up for a gentle kiss, and then with the roar of propellers, he was gone.
At first, there was a kind of relief in being on her own. She had spent a great deal of her life solitary, and as much as she had enjoyed his company, it was a little strange to her. She practiced her violin, she made herself some food, she watched some television, but those activities took far less time than she had thought. By the time it was sundown, she was bored and restless, wondering if she should have gone with him after all.
Olivia lay in her bed, playing with her phone before finally giving in to temptation.
Are things going all right?
She was nearly dozing when her phone chirped at her.
Just got out of meetings. It'll be another full day tomorrow, but after that, I'll be back around sundown. Are you all right?
She chuckled a little. She wasn't sure that she had ever had anyone worry after her the way he was doing. On one hand, it was strange, but there was a part of her who reached for it, that seemed to long for it in a way that she couldn't quite understand.
Calm down, of course everything is fine. I didn't even go out on the swing like I was thinking of …
There was a pause.
If you tell me that you got on that swing alone on a goddamn mountain top, I really will tan your hide!
That made her laugh, sending a warm feeling through her.
Relax! I'm reckless, not dumb. All I've done today is play music and watch television. I would have been thrilled for a day like this back when I was busking, but right now … I guess it feels a bit empty.
She paused for a moment.
I miss you, she texted, before she could stop herself. She resisted the urge to throw the phone away. It felt like too much, simply too much to offer to him. Before she could turn off her phone in embarrassment, he responded.
I miss you as well. Tell me something we can do when I see you next. I want something to look forward to in those meetings tomorrow.
She thought for a moment.
Well, I'm looking forward to you making me food, and perhaps you can feed it to me the way that you did before …
She could imagine him laughing, those dark eyes crinkling up with amusement.
Go on. That sounds enticing. And before you think I am being sarcastic, let me tell you that these meetings are awful.
And I wouldn't mind taking another hike with you …
That's promising …
She took a deep breath. Her fingers were trembling, but she knew that if she couldn't type it out for him here that she certainly couldn't say it out loud to him.
And I want you to make love to me.
There was a long pause this time, and she felt her stomach turn over. She wondered if she had overstepped herself. Had she made herself look cheap or foolish? What if he was showing the phone to his companions, laughing at what a needy girl he had waiting for him in his mountain retreat …
Little songbird, nothing would give me more pleasure. But before you do this, I want you to be sure.
This time there was no hesitation.
I am sure, she typed. I am lying in bed right now, and all I can think of is you. I feel like I'm going to go crazy until we meet again. I need you, and I know you want me. I don't want to wait any more.
This time, his pause was even longer.
Darling … think about this. Think about it until I get back to that mountain. If at any point, you think you are unsure, tell me. Because the night I walk off the plane, I will be coming to you, and unless you tell me no, I will not be stopped. Do you understand?
She shivered, thinking about how dark his eyes became when he wanted her and how powerful he was. She couldn't resist him if she tried, but the idea of trying to resist him was not something that she could understand, not now, perhaps not ever. She wanted nothing more than to have him roll her under, taking her as completely as he could.
I understand. I won't change my mind.
Good.
***
The next day seemed to drag like heavy chains behind her. Olivia showered in the morning, and then as night came on, she showered again, simply to have something to do. She played her violin for hours, but nothing seemed to sound quite right. She picked it up and put it down time after time, and finally she had to pull away from it, afraid she would snap a string with her nerves.
Makeen was busy most of the day, but he sent her a few texts. They were terse but comforting things, and she could barely keep still for what was to come. She wasn't sure whether she was making the right decision, but all she knew was that she was making the one she needed like she needed to breathe.
She nearly fell to her knees with relief when she heard the propellers outside. She waited on the couch, dressed in her simple blue dress. Through the window, she could see him talk to the pilot before sending him off.
Olivia stood as the door creaked open, but Makeen came through it like a hurricane. He caught her up in his arms, overwhelming her with kisses, taking her breath away.
“Hello,” he said, finally pulling back a little. There was something strained about him that was easing even as she watched.
“Hi,” she said shyly. “Are you … are you hungry or …”
He stood back and gave her a look of such masculine enjoyment that she blushed.
“I am,” he said huskily, “but I am not in any shape to come to you. I want a shower first, but after that, a battalion couldn't keep me from you.”
She swallowed hard. “Should I …”
“Go to your room,” he said, his voice velvet with command. “Wait for me.”
***
Olivia knew that Makeen was going to come to her that night. Still, when he opened the door to her bedroom, she felt unprepared, as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night. Even as the door creaked open behind her, she didn't turn to look. Instead, Olivia stood with her back to him, facing the enormous window that looked out over the mountains.
In the last light of day, small portions of the mountain were painted red and gold, picked out like points of garnet in the growing darkness. How many women had stood where she was through the ages? How had they greeted their men? With despair and resolve? With hope and innocence? Perhaps some lucky few had even looked forward to their lords' approach with love.
“What are you thinking, little songbird?” he asked, coming to stand behind her. Olivia could feel the heat from his body right through her clothes. It made her want to step back into his embrace, but for now, she held herself apart.
“What the women who came before me thought,” she said softly. “Were they happy? Did they despair? What could they have wanted here, high above the world?”
He made a soft thoughtful sound, and she gave into her temptation. She leaned back against him, and after a moment of surprise, his arms came up around her. He was tall enough that it was easy for him to rest his chin on her head, and together, they looked out into the encroaching night.
“There is no way to know, not really,” he said, “but we have some records—journals, anecdotes. The women who were brought here were all prized. Some of them resented it. Others reveled in it, and they ruled as well or better than their men.”
Am I a link in a chain that goes back hundreds of years? Olivia wondered. What will they say about me when I am gone?
“You look frightened,” he said. “Are you?”
&
nbsp; She should have been. There was so much to frighten her. She did not know what would happen in a month. She didn't know what would become of her family. She was trapped on a high mountain peak with a man who had once threatened to destroy the people who were most dear to her.
Olivia shook her head. “I'm not frightened, I'm …”
Ready.
The word was so bold in her mind that at first she shook it off. However, when she thought of it, she realized that beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was absolutely the right word. She felt the way she did before she brought her bow down to the strings, when the light shone on her, and all the rustling of the audience had fallen into an expectant hush.
It was too much to say. She had been a musician all her life, and words were not always her friends. Instead, in the circle of Makeen's arms, she turned to face him. His face was dark in the dim light, but it was easy enough to reach up and to trace his lips with the pads of her fingers. Instinctively, his soft tongue came out to lap at her sensitive fingers, making Olivia shiver with desire.
“All my life, I thought I knew desire,” she said softly. “I wanted to play my violin, I wanted to perform for an audience of thousands, I wanted to make my living doing what I loved best. This … this is different.”
“How so?”
“I want this more.”
Her words were naked in the darkness. Olivia wasn't sure that she could have said them in the light. They were too different from what she had believed for years, too far from who she used to be to be understood. But, as she was beginning to learn, she was turning into someone new, like warm clay in Makeen's hands, and though a part of her was terrified, more of her wanted it.
She could feel a shiver go through Makeen's body at her soft words. In that moment, Olivia knew that if she had any doubts about what was going to happen tonight, she should stop him. She knew that she could. She could say a word and send him away.
She didn't.
Instead, she trembled as he bent his dark head down to hers, one hand coming up to tangle in her dark hair. He held her still as he kissed her, but there was something restrained about the way he did it. The tenderness and care in his kiss was so powerful that it made a lump form in her throat. No one had ever kissed her like this, so sweetly and tenderly.
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