by Kristi Gold
"For the most part. How is your sunburn?"
"Much better, thank you."
"Have you looked in the mirror tonight?"
Her gaze zeroed in on said mirror before she collapsed onto the bed. "Considering it covers one wall, it's kind of hard to avoid it."
"Did you see us together? What we did last night?"
In two more minutes, Imogene was going to strip out of her own clothes lest they catch fire from the heat of his words. "I doubt I'll ever forget it."
"Keep it in your thoughts and remember, what we've done is only the beginning. I will see you evening after next, if all goes as planned. Good night, Genie."
Before she had enough presence of mind to say good-night, the line went dead, but Imogene's body immediately came to life. She rolled onto her belly and smashed her face in the pillow to muffle her shout. All she needed was to have Doris hurrying into the room, believing Imogene was being attacked by some shifty intruder who'd managed to scale the wall and come in through the balcony door. She was under attack all right—a sensual attack facilitated by a man who could make her shiver with only the sound of his voice. And when he did return, if he lived up to his promise, she hoped she survived what else he intended to do with her, to her.
In the meantime, she planned a few surprises of her own, beginning tomorrow morning. With Ali as her coconspirator, she would prove to Raf that she could get this whole horse thing right.
* * *
When they reached SaHráa, Raf instructed his driver to let him out at the stables. Normally he would go into the house and change into his work clothes but he did not want to wait another minute. Not after he caught sight of Genie riding Maurice in the arena.
He shirked off his tie, coat and kaffiyeh, leaving them behind in the car before he exited. As he strode toward the arena, he released the top button of his tailored shirt to give him more air since the sight of Genie greatly hindered his breathing. She looked magnificent in the saddle with wisps of golden hair surrounding her face, her chin tipped up with pride, her perfect body in perfect form.
Raf moved to the gate and braced one foot on the bottom rung, looking his fill before she noticed him.
"You may proceed now," Ali said from the center of the pen.
Genie walked a few strides before cuing Maurice into the trot. Shock and concern sent Raf forward to throw open the gate and stalk inside. "I will take it from here," he told Ali who looked perplexed by Raf's acid tone.
"As you wish, Your Excellency." Ali left the arena the moment Genie rounded the pen. She glanced at Ali first, seeming confused by his departure until she spotted Raf.
When their gazes met, she pulled Maurice to a stop and smiled. "You're back! Watch this."
The anger he had effectively kept in check over the past two years settled heavily on Raf as Genie again trotted the gelding, posting in the saddle with an expertise he had not expected.
He should have been present for this milestone. He should have been the one to teach her. For a brief, irrational moment he wondered what else Ali had shown her. An absurd thought, considering the man was almost sixty and happily married to his wife, Fatinah, for well over thirty years. They had borne six children, all grown now, and if Raf looked at it logically, he could not imagine Ali having enough energy left to bed a younger woman.
Raf must be insane for even assuming such a thing. He also grew painfully hard as he continued to watch Genie's hips rising and falling on the saddle as she continued to post, spurring thoughts of another instance where she could do to the same with him. The pressure was almost as unbearable as the heat from the sun and the fire she was generating. That desperate need for her only served to fuel his anger.
The loss of control brought about his scowl when she guided Maurice into the center of the pen and dismounted like a professional. "So what do you think?" she asked.
Raf could not think, could not reason with his mind clouded by a mesh of emotions he could not begin to understand. "I think you are finished for the day." He spun around and headed into the stables, leaving Genie gaping in the middle of the pen.
When Raf walked into the barn, he found Ali standing in the aisle, looking somewhat disapproving. He strode into Maurice's stall and pretended to check the hay.
"Are you displeased with the progress Miss Danforth has made?" Ali said through the iron bars separating the stall from the aisle.
"She is not ready."
"Forgive me, but I believe you've seen evidence to the contrary. She is quite a natural rider."
"My only concern is her safety. I do not want her progressing too quickly."
"She is moving at a pace that suits her abilities."
Raf could hear the clip-clop of Maurice's lazy gait and Genie's faster footsteps approaching. "Ali, take the gelding and rinse him off, then you are dismissed."
Ali met Genie at the entrance and took Maurice from her. Raf could hear their muttered conversation and he assumed they were discussing him. It did not matter. He had to escape before he did something foolish or said something regrettable.
Raf left the stall and started up the aisle, hoping that Genie would not pursue him yet assuming she probably would.
"Wait up, Raf," she called as he ascended the stairs to the apartment, confirming his assumptions.
He did not answer her or slow his steps, but he could not avoid her when she followed him into the apartment.
"Raf, stop running from me, dammit!" she said as he entered the office.
He faced the shelves positioned behind his desk, determined not to look at her. "What do you wish from me? My congratulations when you've so blatantly ignored my wishes?"
"I learned to trot. Big deal. Why does that make you so angry?"
"I am angry at Ali. I told him that you were to walk only."
"Don't blame him. I'm the one who convinced him to let me trot."
"He works for me, not you."
"Would you just look at me for a minute?"
He did not dare, for if he did, he would most likely let go of his anger. He needed that emotion, otherwise he would disregard common sense and take her into his arms to vent his frustration, his all-consuming need for her. "I have some work to do before dinner. I prefer to be alone."
"I'm not leaving until I find out what this is really all about."
Raf turned to find her expression a mix of confusion and irritation. "This is about not following my directives. You could have been injured."
"I'm still in one piece."
He could not resist taking a long glance down her body. "As luck would have it, yes, you are."
She crossed her arms over her chest, shielding her breasts from his eyes. "It has nothing to do with luck. Ali is a great teacher."
Raf experienced another spear of anger. "Then perhaps he should take over for me, if I am not meeting your needs."
"I don't want him to teach me, I want you to do it, but—"
"Yet you refused to adhere to our agreement."
"Yes, but—"
"And I believe I said that if you made that decision, then our arrangement would be nullified, did I not?"
"Yes, you did—"
"So is that what you want, Genie? Do you want to call off this arrangement?"
"No, that's not what I want. I just want you to listen to me. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it." Her gaze drifted away. "I did it for you."
For him? His anger slowly dissolved. He had been responsible for destroying her sense of accomplishment. He had let his own guilt and fears influence him. "Why would you need my approval?"
She dropped her arms to her sides. "Because it's important to me. I thought you would be proud, but obviously I was wrong."
"I am disappointed that you did not wait until my return to take the next step in your lessons. Now that you have done that, I have no choice but to accept it."
"But you're not happy about it, are you?"
He could not begin to express what he felt at that moment�
�anger, regret, desire. Fear. Fear of his feelings for her, fear that he could easily let emotions rule logic. "I am frustrated."
"Frustrated about what, Raf?" She closed the space between them until she stood very close. "Does this really have to do with me defying you? Or are you frustrated because you want me, and for some reason that scares you?"
"I am not afraid of you."
"Really? Then prove it."
Raf's tenuous control snapped and he spun her around, backing her up against the shelves. He framed her face in his palms, forcing her to look at him, to know what she had unleashed. "You have no idea what you are doing to me. For the past two nights I have stayed awake for hours thinking about you until I was so hard I could not sleep. And today, watching you ride, I still wanted you, even though I was furious to find you had ignored my mandates."
She slid her hands up his chest and brought them to rest on his shoulders. "Then you must be really tired."
Taking her hand, he guided her palm down his chest past his abdomen and pressed it against his erection. "This is not a result of exhaustion."
He should have known she would not draw her hand away. He did not realize she would release his belt and unfasten the button on his slacks. With effort, Raf clasped her wrist to stop her. "No."
"Yes." She wrested her hand from his grasp and lowered his fly.
He should put an end to this, but he could not muster enough strength. "I have nothing here to protect you from pregnancy."
"That's not an issue because I am protected against pregnancy."
"Are you not concerned about other issues of safety?"
"Should I be?"
"No."
"Good. But this isn't about me," she said, searching his eyes as she lowered his briefs. "This is about you. It's my turn now to give back what you've given me."
Several protests worked their way into Raf's mind but dispersed the moment she freed him and took him into her hand. He tipped his forehead against hers and lowered his gaze to watch, too lost to stop her. Too overwhelmed by the sensations to do anything but immerse himself in the moment.
Many years had passed since a woman had touched him this way. Daliya never had. Perhaps no one ever had, at least not with such thorough persuasion, such selflessness that she would want to tend to his needs without considering her own.
He planned to remedy that. "I want to touch you." When he reached for the clasp on her pants, she pulled his hand back to her waist.
"This is just for you, Raf," she whispered. "You need this. I need to do this. So let go and enjoy it. I plan to."
He gritted his teeth as she increased the pressure and cadence of her strokes, firm milking strokes that had his hips following her movements as he leaned into her. He needed to end this before it was too late. He needed to wait until he was inside her. Yet he did not have the will to stop. She had no idea how much power she had over him at that moment. No idea that he would have gladly relinquished his fortune for the opportunity to feel this good again, to experience this freedom.
He could no longer think beyond the force of his impending climax. Blessed relief was within reach, yet he wanted the sensations to last. A long breath hissed from between his clenched teeth as he battled his body's demand. He fought to hold on. But it had been too long since he had felt this way. Perhaps never this way.
All sound disappeared save for the incessant pounding of his pulse in his ears and his ragged breathing. Every muscle in his body went rigid as an explosive climax burst forth, nearly collapsing him with its power. In one long, mind-shattering moment, two years of self-imposed celibacy ended in the hands of a woman who moved him in so many ways.
All the emotions crowding in on him—relief, gratitude, longing—came out in a kiss heralding his desperation. She accepted all that he gave, willingly opened to him and drew his tongue deep into the welcome heat of her mouth. And he had given her nothing but grief, while she had given him the sweetest, most unselfish gift of pleasure in its purest form.
Remorse caused Raf to break the kiss and step back. Emotionally and physically drained, he redid his fly and dropped into the nearby chair, his head in his hands, his heart in turmoil.
He was mildly aware of the sound of the closing bathroom door adjacent to the office. He was very aware when Genie returned and dropped to her knees before him. He raised his gaze to hers, knowing she could see through his attempts to mask his emotions when she said, "It's okay. There's nothing wrong with what just happened."
"Yet you received nothing in return."
She laid a gentle hand on his jaw. "Oh, but I did. I got to see you give up some of your control for a change. I got to see you when you feel as good as you made me feel. At least I'm hoping it felt good."
Much more than she could fathom. "I wanted to wait until we made love. It was important to me."
"Why was that so important? You needed that release and I wanted to be the one to give it to you."
He came to his feet and stared down on her. "And I wanted you to be the one to give it to me as well, but not this way." Before he could halt the words, they came tumbling out of his mouth. "You are the only woman I have allowed to be this close to me again. The only woman I have been with in two years. That is why it was important."
Raf did not wait to see her reaction before he left the room, knowing he would probably regret the revelation. With that information, more questions would come. Questions he was not certain he wanted to answer, for with them would also come the knowledge that he was not the man Genie Danforth presumed him to be.
* * *
Seven
« ^ »
You are the only woman I have allowed to be this close to me again. The only woman I have been with in two years…
Even after two days, Imogene still reeled from the revelation. Why her? Why now? And what had been the cause of his withdrawal from life?
She had so many unanswered questions. So many things she wanted to know about Raf Shakir. Since their interlude in the barn, she hadn't seen him aside from lessons, and those had been attended by both Raf and Ali. Safety in numbers, Imogene decided. She also decided that what she'd done to him might have been a critical mistake. She wasn't exactly sorry she'd done it even though it had been a first for her. But to see Raf that vulnerable, to know she had been responsible for giving him the pleasure he'd given to her, to see him let down his guard, had almost been worth it. Or it would have been if he hadn't continued to avoid her.
She got the distinct feeling that any chance of making love with him could be nil. Even so, she had to know what had happened in his life that had made him so sad, made him close himself off from life so effectively that he'd not been with a woman for two years. She could very much relate to that sadness because of her own experience, but she hadn't totally checked out of life, even if she had used her job as a means to escape.
Raf wouldn't be the one to give her the answers, that much Imogene knew. She decided to join Doris in the kitchen after dining alone again, hoping that maybe she could persuade the housekeeper to give up some more information.
Making her way to the high-top counter, she slid onto a stool while Doris swiped a rag over the surface, literally whistling "Dixie" while she worked.
"So what does the sheikh do on a normal Saturday night?" she asked. "Play poker with the guys?"
Doris turned and leaned back against the stove. "He's not the poker-playing kind, even if he does have a poker face."
"How do you mean?"
"You should know by now that he hides his feelings."
Imogene did know, all too well. "So have you seen him this evening?" She kept her tone light to conceal her curiosity.
"He was in here right before dinner to get some coffee. Looks like the mare they've been waiting on to foal might domino tonight. I told those boys that a watched pot never boils. My husband stared at me for two weeks when I was expecting my first so I waited until he left to go fishing before I went into labor." Doris threw back
her head and cackled, then threw down the rag. "I got him good on that one."
Imogene rested her cheek on her palm. "I didn't know you were married and had children."
"I've got three boys living in all parts of the country with their wives and a whole slew of grandkids. I've been hitched for almost forty years now, not that Bernie Blaylock remembers it's been that long."
Surprise straightened Imogene in her seat. "You're married to Mr. Blaylock?"
Doris looked altogether confused. "Why, yes, sugar, I am. We live in one of the houses on the grounds, next door to Ali and his wife. Didn't His Majesty tell you that?"
"Nope. The sheikh isn't too forthcoming with information."
"I meant my husband. I like to call him His Majesty because I've been cleaning his throne since the beginning of time." Again Doris released a round of grinding chuckles. Imogene might have laughed, too, but at the moment, she wasn't in a jovial mood.
She decided now was the time to grab the opportunity to quiz Doris a little about the other "majesty." "Did Sheikh Shakir have any children when he was married?"
"No, sugar, no kiddos. They were only married a short time before…" Doris abruptly turned back to the stove. "I swear, grease just goes forth and multiplies after I fry chicken."
Determination sent Imogene from the bar stool. She walked to the stove and leaned one hip against the counter next to Doris. "They were married a short time before what?"
Doris offered Imogene only a brief glance before going back to working the stove over with a vengeance. "I've said too much already. If you want to know, you'll have to ask him about it."
"He won't tell me."
Doris turned to face her with a sympathetic look. "Then let it be, sugar. Some things are best left unsaid."
In some instances Imogene would heartily agree. After all, she rarely spoke about the night Tori had disappeared. But this time she was driven by her burgeoning feelings for Raf to find out more, before she was in too deep. She was already in too deep.
"Can you at least tell me how long it's been since his marriage ended?" she asked.