Adored in Oman (Book 2 in Teach Me, Love Me Series): Interracial Romance

by Mariah Violet

  Noon arrived more slowly than Abdulla liked and sooner than Shan thought it should. Over ten years in the classroom and a mother with standards prevented her from lounging around in her bed past noon. Only lazy people or those on the night shift slept past noon. Teachers started thinking of all the things they needed to do before their feet hit the floor. Sleeping late was harder than getting up and starting the day.

  Her phone chimed while she was turning her eggs and sipping her pomegranate juice. Reaching eagerly for it she snatched her hand away from the phone, pressed it to her tummy and inhaled then exhaled slowly. Then, she grabbed the phone and answered with a smile, “Hello.”

  Releasing a breath he was unaware he had been holding, Abdulla responded with his own, “Hello, Shan.”

  “How is your day going?” he inquired.

  “If I wasn’t jet lagged, I would be embarrassed to admit I have only been out of the bed twenty minutes,” was her honest answer.

  “How was your morning? Did you rise early, as you intended?” she queried.

  “Of course and my morning has been busy. Are you still coming with me to look at the starry sky tonight?”

  “I am. I made us star charts, fruit punch and brownies. I also purchased binoculars,” Shan told him.

  “Excellent. I will pick you up after I break my fast and visit with my family. It will be completely dark about half past eight.”

  “No problem. I will be sure to take a late nap so I won’t be yawning while we star gaze.”

  “Shan, we will go to my mother’s sister’s home. Her rooftop is the perfect spot for sky watching. When I was a boy, I thought the whole wadi belonged to her. There will be a lot of family but we will only speak with them for a short time before heading to the roof. We will have to eat a little, to be hospitable.”

  “No problem. Do I need to cover my head at your aunt’s home?”

  “No habbibti. Come just as you did last night. Thank you for asking.”

  With that, two adults, trying to hide their excitement under a cool exterior said their goodbyes and returned to anticipating their next meeting. The day passed like any other group of hours that separate people from what they really wanted to be doing, painstakingly slowly. Shan unpacked, started laundry and began making lists for her classroom. She burned incense and wrote in her prayer journal. She exchanged voice notes with her mother, who sometimes suffered from insomnia and was wide awake at three in the morning in Texas.

  Abdulla attended some afternoon meetings. He reviewed task lists with his father. They revisited some talking points for the next audience with the Sultan. He met with the other members of the Council of State, who had also been appointed by the Sultan, just like his father.

  Shan did a light workout, using her DVD series she had brought from home and followed it up with a short yoga practice. She moisturized and twisted her locs. Then she spent an hour toying with different updo styles for her date. She tried on and discarded an array of skirts and blouses. She settled on a peach colored peasant blouse paired to a cream ankle length skirt and a leather belt with embossed owls. She napped.

  Abdulla drove home from the office and showered. He dressed in western wear this night. He wore jeans and a Ralph Lauren collared shirt. He went to the home where he was raised and joined his family in corporate prayer. Afterward, they broke their fast.

  Unexpectedly, Salama, his sister asked, “Who is the woman you were eating with at Hamad’s restaurant yesterday?”

  Abdulla’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

  “My classmate saw you at the Ramadan tent with her and she saw you go inside the restaurant. She said you were laughing together.”

  “Little sister, it is none of your business. She is a nice lady I was introduced to by our cousin, Mohammed. She and I took dinner last night and will go look at the stars tonight in the wadi. I am only answering your question because I know once I take her to Aunt’s home, you will hear about her anyway.”

  Abdulla was so busy giving his sister a low key dressing down, he missed the astonished glance his parents shared which was followed by two grins. Grins they quickly wiped from their faces as he turned to face them. They were thrilled for him. It seemed their son had decided to try once again for happiness. They sure hoped this woman knew what she was doing. Their son tended to make up his mind very quickly. Hopefully, she would be as interested in their son as he seemed to be in her. Only time would tell. With a quick, silent prayer thrown to the heavens, Abdulla’s mother asked if he would be bringing her to Iftar one night before the end of Ramadan.

  “Ummi, we still have about two weeks left in Ramadan. I will definitely bring her to one of our Iftar meals.”

  “Be sure you do,” was his mother’s only reply.

  Chapter Eight

  Abdulla knocked on Shan’s door, just as the streetlights were lighting one by one. When she opened the door, his throat tightened. She was a vision in peach and cream. She looked like a dessert. The skirt was long and flowed around her legs as she stepped out of the door.

  Shan presented each cheek for the customary kiss, kiss, hello she had become used to since moving to the Mid-East. When his lips touched her face, the spot he had touched seemed inflamed. “Down girl,” she thought to herself, not wanting to be quite so eager. Abdulla’s lips tingled when he stepped away from her.

  “You are wearing a different scent today,” he observed.

  “Yes, today I am wearing jasmine oil. I bought it in Egypt.”

  “So, you wear a different scent each day?” he inquired.

  “It depends on my mood. I wear a lot of lavender and gardenia also. I wore rose last night, which is odd, because I don’t wear that very often,” she responded.

  “Why not?” was Abdulla’s response as he helped her into the car.

  “I don’t know; it just seems so common.”

  “I, for one have only very rarely smelled anyone wearing a single scented oil. Most people I know mix their scents or wear perfume. I find it sweet you wear only one scent at a time.”

  “Yes, I have very sensitive skin. Perfumes have too many chemicals, I would surely itch all over if I sprayed that on my skin. I do, however, spray it on my clothes!” was Shan’s teasing reply. “I’m glad you like my scent. It could be a long night if you didn’t.”

  Laughing, they headed for the outskirts of Muscat, leaving the city behind as they headed into the mountains. Forty-five minutes and lots of laughs later, Abdulla pulled into a short drive leading to a small villa. It was very old and looked like Moses might have built it on his way to the promise land. The villa was set right against the rocks, as if it were built into the mountain. There were stairs that looked suspect to Shan’s eyes and a shelf of rock that appeared to have been carved out by some enterprising soul. She assumed that was the star watching spot.

  Abdulla confirmed her thoughts by pointing at the top of the stairs and saying, “That is where we will view the stars. Let’s go greet my Aunt and have a brief bite to eat.”

  Entering the home, Shan was surprised at how old fashioned it seemed. There were lamps and rugs everywhere. There did not appear to be electricity. The family was gathered around a low table and eating. Upon noticing Abdulla there were cries of Abood, Abood! Draped ladies rushed over to greet their cousin and nephew. Shan noticed they all had their heads covered, but their faces were visible. She managed to remember all the names, just not which person the name belonged to. She resolved to lead every comment with a name, to avoid unnecessary embarrassment. His aunt was a warm, hospitable woman. She fed Shan, had tea brought, offered a variety of sweets and asked lots of questions. Shan was more than happy to answer and asked one of her own.

  “How is it you live here without electricity? How do you manage?” was the first set of questions.

  “No!” she hooted with laughter. “We don’t live here. We come twice during Ramadan to break our fast in the old way as a way of remembering where we come from. Abdulla always comes so he ca
n go to the star watching chamber. He has been spending hours up there since he got his first telescope as a gift from his father, years ago.”

  Shan thought it was nice he wanted to share his passion with her. She began to feel excited as she thought about their little star gazing adventure. She was comfortable in the darkened room with the ladies lounging about her. She could hear Abdulla’s deep voice mingling with those of his cousins. She was enjoying the sensation of being unplugged and unbothered about it. She could tell he was relaxed here in a way he hadn’t been in the city. About an hour later, they climbed up the exterior staircase they had seen earlier. Shan was thrilled with how sturdy it was. The structure had been set into the side of the mountain by holes being drilled and the foundation was set in the holes with cement anchors.

  When she got her first glance at the star chamber she clapped her hands! “Abood, this is amazing!” she exclaimed.

  “I am glad you like it,” was his only response.

  “Like it? I love it! This looks like it is just a ledge, but it is an actual cave. It is a perfect place for sky watching. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  That said, Abdulla reached behind the small sofa and retrieved a long case. He proceeded to open it and set up a telescope on a tripod. Shan was stunned!

  “Wonders never cease,” she murmured to herself. “I love that you have your own telescope!”

  “I have had it since before college. The first one wasn’t strong enough to see as deeply into space as I would have liked. This is an updated model,” he explained, then told Shan a little about his hobby and how much he grew to enjoy it during high school.

  All the while he was efficient with the setup of his Sky Eye and even set their snacks onto a shelf that had been cut into the wall. She could easily see the shelf holding a whole night’s worth of snacks. Shrugging off her backpack, she liberated the binoculars she had purchased and the star charts. He showed her what to look for and offered her first look on the Sky Eye. She took him up on his offer and as she peered through the lens, she could feel the warmth from his body as he leaned forward and made some minor adjustments. She felt cuddled and protected. Hot. If this man did not back up off her behind, she was going to lose her mind, feeling the heat from his body while stargazing was distracting. He, on the other hand did not appear to be struggling at all.

  They spoke in whispers as he guided her around the sky. Their cheeks touched. Their hands brushed. She could feel his breath on her ear when he leaned down to speak to her as she looked for planets and Pleiades. He could smell her hair. He felt heat coming off her body in waves and wondered at the trembling of her throat, knowing her heart was beating as fast as his, in spite of her calm, low voice. As the hour grew late, he confessed he had made arrangements to work from home the next day.

  “Why?” she whispered while looking through her binoculars.

  “We will leave here quite late and I will be too tired tomorrow. I will wake for breakfast and prayer, and then continue sleeping until late morning. I will work from home and take calls. I won’t be entirely free during the day.”

  “This could have waited until the weekend,” she told him, looking at him instead of the sky.

  “No. I could not have waited until the weekend. I wanted to see you.”

  She smiled up at him, eyes shining, reflecting all the stars that surrounded their heads. He reached out and touched one loc, which was resting against her collar bone. He gave it a slight tug and she stepped closer.

  “I should not kiss you, but I find I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered as he leaned toward her.

  “I know. I feel the same way,” she said on a shaky breath.

  He did. She did. Their lips touched and two hearts beat faster. They did not step closer together. It was just lips and eyes. Their eyes were open when their lips met for the first time. Their expressions were questioning, tentative. As if they were each asking the other for permission.

  It started off sweet, very light pressure, just a soft touch. It increased in pressure and intensity with every breath. Their tongues met, just barely. A light introductory exploration that made them both sigh. Shan’s eyes drifted shut, Abdulla’s finger traced its way down her face, soft skin calling to him, imploring him to explore just a bit.

  When Abdulla realized he was on the edge of his self-control and that he needed to release her lips before he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, he planted two kisses, one on each eye and said, “Habbibti. We should go before I fail to be a gentleman.”

  She winked at him and agreed, “You are right. I would hate to see you lose your grip on good manners.”

  Staring at each other with amusement they missed a shooting star right overhead.

  Chapter Nine

  The next two weeks were busy ones for Abdulla and Shan. Ramadan was winding down to a close and Shan had gone with him to several Iftar gatherings with his cousins, friends and even immediate family. She did not find it odd to meet his family because that is what the people here did, they fellowshipped with their families often.

  She found his circle to be extremely diverse. As his father’s assistant, he had the opportunity to meet a wide array of people who were active in the Omani community as service providers, business owners and to her surprise, a great many expatriates. He played fútbol in a competitive community league. He spoke a multitude of languages, some better than others, but to date she had never seen him struggle to communicate with anyone, anywhere they went.

  Abdulla loved how comfortable Shan was in her skin. She never met a stranger. She might struggle with names, but she was charming and always attempted to remember everyone. She was funny and kept people who could understand her English laughing. She didn’t mind being in a group where English wasn’t the primary language, she managed to laugh in all the right places and did not seem to need to be the center of attention at all times.

  Once she returned to work, it was a bit more difficult for them to spend as much time together as Abdulla would like. He wanted to see her every day. She did not allow it. They did talk each morning and evening. She was unable to message very often during the day as her job was very different from his. Nevertheless, they got to know each other very well.

  One thing bothered Abdulla. She had been very forthcoming in all things except her past marriage. She refused to discuss it. When he pressed her, she always said the same thing. “I was married, now I’m not. It is in the past and I don’t talk about it.”

  It made him uneasy that she was so steadfast about not discussing it. He knew her ex-husband had hurt her very badly. It was apparent in her clipped tone, stiff shoulders and averted gaze on those occasions when he brought it up with her.

  He wanted to know what happened because he was interested in spending the rest of his life with her. He knew her view was dating should go on for quite some time before marriage, as she had dated her ex throughout college. Abdulla felt it unnecessary as they had both been married before and were at an age where they should know exactly what they wanted.

  This too, was a topic she shied away from when he brought it up in conversation. If he didn’t know better, he would think she did not want to marry. He hoped that wasn’t how she felt. Even still, if she needed convincing and reassurance, he was the man for the job. He would have her as his wife. That, was an absolute.

  Shan could tell that Abdulla was getting to the point where he would insist on answers concerning her failed marriage. She dreaded having to revisit that time in her life. It made her feel stupid and exposed. She refused to consider that she might still be hurting. She was too tough to be hurting ten years later. She wouldn’t allow it. Lies we tell ourselves are just as dangerous as the ones others tell us.

  She also knew he wanted a deeper, more permanent relationship. She wasn’t a fool, he was the marrying kind. He had been happily married before fate snatched his love away, cruelly and permanently. His view on marriage was the opposite of hers. It scared her that he might b
e imagining her in that role. She was absolutely, not ever marrying anyone else, not even Abdulla. She tried to apply brakes by distancing herself and seeing him only three times a week instead of every day. She pretended she couldn’t message during the day, which was untrue. She saw all his messages and she could have returned them during her break or during her planning period, but she didn’t. She was afraid of what she was feeling. So, she tried to withdraw. Abdulla was having none of it. He had taken to sending her little gifts, such as scented oils, chocolates and even whipped shea butter. Lord only knows where he found whipped shea butter in Oman. She mentioned once that she was having a difficult time finding it and the next thing she knew, he had a basket delivered. How was she supposed to keep him at a distance when he insisted on being so sweet and thoughtful?

  Abdulla may have only had one wife, but he knew a woman on the run when he saw one. Good—on one hand, it meant she knew his intentions. Bad—on the other, it meant she was undecided as to what she wanted. No problem, it was Abdulla’s pleasure to prove to her that he was unlike whatever bad memory she held of her ex. It was his intention to provide for her experiences she could not for herself.

  He would protect her from life’s troubles as much as he could, though no man could deflect all. He wanted to make her his wife, as soon as he could convince her. His family and friends thought they were a good match. He was hopeful to eventually meet her mother and impress upon her what a blessing he and her daughter could be to each other’s lives. For now, he would wait patiently for his Shan to relax enough to let down her guard. He wasn’t a liar or a thief of hearts, he had no doubt he would be able to win her trust. Then, he would guard it like the most precious resource on Earth.