Alim’s brows came together. “You needn’t worry,” he said. “I will ensure you are set free once we arrive. We do not make slaves of our captured enemies anymore.”
“Is that all I am to you? A captured enemy?”
His gaze slid to her lips. In the day and night of sex, that Sydney had trouble thinking of as anything but lovemaking, Alim had not once kissed her. His lips had travelled everywhere else on her body, yet he had avoided that most intimate of gestures. She had not noticed the lack until this moment when she desperately wanted the reassurance it would give her.
Alim let her go. “You know that is not true,” he said, his voice harsh. “We should prepare. The tents will be dismantled shortly.” He reached for his clothes, his back to her, his long body working as he dressed, the muscles flexing beneath his flesh.
Anything but reassured, Sydney donned the clothes she had worn last night, fumbling with the unfamiliar garments. By the time she was fully dressed and ready to step outside, the sounds of the camp breaking up were loud. Camels had been brought from the rope lines to the tents, to accept their burdens for the journey. The flap and sigh of tents collapsing competed with the camels’ mournful bleats and moans.
Alim held the flap open for her and she stepped out into the last of the daylight. It was already considerably cooler out here than in the tent and she shivered.
The camel that would carry Alim’s tent was already waiting before it. Sydney looked at it, startled. It was the same camel as before. The dark brown hair on the top of its head and hump and tufts on its neck were the same. The patchy ochre-colored hair and the extra-long nose were identical. The huge, gentle black eyes blinked at her. The big square teeth it bared as it snorted were the ones she had noticed before, yet this was barely the same animal. Its hump was bigger. It looked lean and energetic and far younger than the stringy beast that had been taken away yesterday.
The man holding it was the same man. He laughed and pointed at her. “She is surprised! Lo! She has never seen a camel after he has drunk his fill.”
“Yahdi, that’s enough,” Alim said shortly and Yahdi straightened up and returned to the business of emptying and dismantling the tent.
“That’s what happen to them when they don’t have water?” Sydney asked. “They…shrivel like that?”
“Camels can go many days without water, while a horse must have water every day,” Alim said. “If we did not need horses to fight, we would not bring them with us. They are a burden.”
He picked up Basel’s reins from the peg where they had been looped and jumped up onto Basel’s back.
Sydney held her breath.
For a moment it seemed that Alim paused, too. He looked down at Basel’s head.
Then he turned and held his hand out to her.
Sydney shook her head. “I should walk.”
Alim slid off the horse, came over to her and picked her up. He almost dumped her on Basel’s back. She untangled her legs and the layers of clothing as Alim climbed up behind her once more. He settled at her back and this time, he made no effort to avoid contact with her. His thighs were sandwiched against hers, his chest against her back. She gasped at the contact.
“Shh…” he breathed and kicked Basel into a walk.
* * * * *
The Sahara at night was a magical place. To begin, the temperature dropped down to the point where Sydney fully expected to see her breath fogging the air. It was actually chilly and only Alim at her back and the heat of Basel beneath her stopped her from getting too cold.
She also could not get over the clear night sky and the millions of stars she could see. She remembered the night sky in L.A. being mostly black, with the odd star, which may or may not be an approaching airplane. The moon was a gray-faced disk in the sky, wan and indifferent.
When the moon rose above the horizon in front of them, a few hours after they had begun walking, her breath was stolen. The moon was a pure white, glowing sphere. She could easily see the Tycho crater. The globe was so big and so close she thought she might be able to touch it if she leaned forward far enough. Everyone ahead of them in the caravan were dark silhouettes against its great face.
As it rose, it grew smaller, yet the bright glow of it did not fade. There was no pollution in the atmosphere to reduce the lunar light.
The chill kept everyone to themselves, huddled in their layers. There was little talk. Most of the camp had stayed up very late the night before and now they were travelling through the night again. Tiredness pulled at them. Chatter was at a minimum.
It meant the caravan moved almost silently through the starry night.
Sydney shivered at the wonder of it.
“You’re cold,” Alim said softly.
“I am moved by the beauty of this place,” she said, turning so she did not have to speak too loudly. “I had no idea it would be like this.”
“Despite having visited so many other worlds?” he asked.
“They are all just as wonderful, Alex. They are all very different from here, though.”
“You called me Alex again.”
“So I did.” She turned back to face the front again.
“I will warm you,” Alim said.
She opened her mouth to say he already was, but froze as his fingers pried at the split in the side of her overdress.
He pulled her hood down with his other hand, then slipped that hand through the split on the other side.
Her heart zoomed. Her breath quickened. What did he intend…?
His hands settled on her waist and his lips touched the back of her neck, making her shiver again. He spoke right next to her ear. “There is no one to either side of us. Those behind us will see my back. If anyone before us bothers to look back, they will see what they have all along, you before me on my horse.”
His hands were busy tugging at her jacket, beneath the tunic, pulling it aside. He made a sound of satisfaction as he found her bare belly. Swiftly, his hands rose up under the shortened jacket and found her breasts. Her veil spilled over her upper chest, which hid the movement of his hands underneath.
Alim held her breasts in his hands and his hips shifted. She felt his cock against her ass, a heated rod separated by layers of linen and brocade.
He yanked at the breast band, pulling it down around her waist. Then he returned his hands to her breasts. His fingers plucked at her nipples, then rolled them, teasing them into tight, hard buds.
Sydney pulled in a breath that shuddered. She was powerfully aroused, more than she thought was possible after the tendon-stretching and muscle-draining sex. She was vibrating with it. Her strong reaction was because they were doing this right under the noses of a caravan full of conservative and very proper Fatimids.
She gritted her teeth together to stop herself from moaning aloud. She could feel Alim at her back and leaned against him, closing her eyes. To the world, she might be asleep. She had slept on his shoulder once already.
Alim toyed with her breasts for long, long minutes. That was all he did, except for occasionally sliding his tongue along her neck, or nuzzling her ear. Even that simple teasing was enough to made her shake. She wanted desperately to get off the horse and let him fuck her as hard as he could, or even harder. There was a wildness to this that was pushing the boundaries of her pleasure beyond anything she had ever experienced.
When his hand dropped to the belt around her pants and explored the shape and style of the loop fastener, she thought her heart would stop.
“Let me,” she murmured.
“Leave your hands where everyone can see them,” he told her.
She stayed still.
He twisted the belt loop and it slithered undone. The ends fell across her thighs.
Alim made another sound of approval. He pushed the light fabric down her hips and as far down her ass as her sitting posture would allow.
“Lift up,” he breathed.
Her heart threw itself against her chest. She pushed back against his shoulder and raised her
hips.
He slid the pants down nearly to her knees.
Sydney looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed anything. The horses in front of them and the camels behind were plodding steadily. It was possible their riders were asleep.
“Keep looking ahead,” he ordered. He withdrew one hand and she heard the whisper of cloth. His hand brushed her back as he worked, down low by her ass.
Sydney let out another shaky breath, as she guessed his intention.
Here? Did he really dare?
The hand he still had inside her overdress pushed back on her belly, sliding her hips back.
At the same time, he lifted up the back of the overdress, getting it out of the way. The voluminous folds spilled over her thighs as he lifted her the few inches needed to settle her over his lap.
“Put your knees behind mine,” he breathed.
She followed his direction and felt herself open up.
His cock slid into her as he lowered her down.
Sydney came almost instantly. The sheer audacity of what they were doing drove most of it and she struggled not to whimper or make as sound as her orgasm spilled through her. Her pussy gripped and stroked him and Alim hissed.
“Oh, but that is not the end of it, Xanthe,” he whispered, his lips brushing her jaw.
His hands crept inside her overdress. One found her breast and stroked the inflamed nipple, making her breath catch. The other slid over her thigh and into her wide open cleft. He stroked her swollen and throbbing clit. “Consider this an experiment,” he whispered. “If I can make your pleasure quicken often enough, would your pleasure pique mine? Shall we find out?”
Sydney moaned. She couldn’t help it.
She lost count of the number of times he brought her to climax on that endless night. He seemed to be able to read her body like braille. He orchestrated her pleasure with almost magical perfection. Sometimes slow, sometimes with pauses for her to regather and sometimes fast and as hard as she needed, he would stroke her and pet her back to another orgasm.
He came, too. As an experiment, it was a multiple success. Some of his climaxes left him breathless, his head on her shoulder.
Her last climax, as the moon touched the horizon behind them, left her weak and drained. She fell back against Alim, her head sliding down his arm because she didn’t have the strength to stay sitting up. It dislodged his cock and separated them, but he did not protest.
He looked down at her for a long time. With gentle movements, he pulled her veil aside and lifted her up, just enough for his lips to meet hers.
The kiss was the summation of the night, of the day and night before that, and of everything they had not said. It was the sweetest kiss Alex had ever given her, of the many thousands she remembered.
Then he put her veil back, sat her up and rested her against his chest. This time, he kept his arms around her on the outside of her clothes, where everyone could see them.
Not long after that, Sydney sat up as shapes formed on the horizon, clear and distinct. “Is that…?” she breathed. “Oh my sweet lord…it’s the pyramids!”
Alim laughed. “You have not seen them before?”
In pictures, in videos, in endless movies, yes, but never this way. “I have heard about them all my life,” she told him. “I have never seen them for myself before.”
“They are wondrous structures,” he said, perhaps sensing her awe and excitement. “You will be pleased to know our path goes right by them.”
“Really?” Then her excitement faded. The pyramids were just outside Cairo. They were nearly at the end of the journey.
* * * * *
Sydney watched the pyramids grow larger and larger, her dread building with each step Basel took. What could she do? How could she fix this? Even though she could jump back to her own time whenever she wanted and could stay here for years if that’s what it took to make sure Alex left for Jerusalem, she knew her task would be next to impossible once they had reached Cairo where his family and friends would sweep Alex up in normal life. She wouldn’t be able to compete.
When they walked passed the silent, majestic pyramids and Sydney craned her head up to look at the worn stones in wonder, she still had no idea what to do.
The sun was rising as the caravan crossed the Nile over a very long stone bridge of elegant arches, that featured two towers at either end. The horses’ hooves finally clattered against something solid, as they clopped over the bridge.
Cairo was stuffed full of people, most of them Muslims with their turbans and headcloths. Many of them distinctly foreign in appearance, though. Cairo had apparently been a melting pot society even in the eleventh century.
Alim tapped her arm and pointed to a cream and beige building with minarets and onion domes. “Al-Azhar University,” he said proudly.
Her heart hurt. Alim was a torn man. He had a duty to his family which he was loyally fulfilling, while his heart and mind yearned for foreign lands and knowledge. Yet she knew Alex. She knew his loyalty would remain true.
How could she bend his will against that higher value? She had to, yet she would hate herself forever for doing it.
At last the caravan filed through a tall arched opening into a huge courtyard. Two football fields would easily fit inside it. As Alim passed the guards at the gate, they snapped to attention and lowered their heads.
The courtyard was quite beautiful. The flooring was polished stone. White arches with delicate lace edges lined the buildings on all four sides.
“Where is this place?” Sydney asked, as Alim reached past her to pick up Basel’s reins and bring him to a halt. The rest of the caravan was doing the same, spreading out across the courtyard. People were emerging from the buildings and calling greetings.
“This is the royal palace, of course,” Alim said, climbing down.
“You live here?”
“All my family does. You will meet my mother and father tonight.”
From the minarets around the palace, the sing-song call to prayers began. Everyone in the courtyard hurried, swirling around them in urgent activity.
“After prayers,” Alim added. He held up his hands. “Come.”
She had failed. He was being called away, in more ways than one. Her vision blurred as she slid down into his arms and clung to him.
Alim didn’t step away. Perhaps he sensed her despair. Instead, he pressed his hand against her veil, found her chin and tilted her face up so he could see it. She blinked away the tears, trying to hide them.
He touched the corner of her eye and looked at his finger. “Why this?” he whispered. He pulled her veil away to see better.
“It is nothing. A small regret for the end of…this.” She gave him a small smile.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb moving in a gentle swipe against her cheekbone, sliding through the dampness. Then, right there in front of everyone, he kissed her.
Sydney’s breath evaporated. She wound her arms around his neck and clung to him, pressing herself against him. Her hood fell away. The turban she had awkwardly tied loosened and dropped to the ground, leaving her hair free to uncoil and hang down her back.
Alim just held her to him, his fingers sliding into her hair, holding her head still so he could deepen the kiss.
For what might have been long minutes or merely a few seconds, Sydney absorbed the kiss. There was so much he seemed to be trying to say with it, that she didn’t understand.
He lifted his lips away from hers. Not far, just far enough for his gaze to meet hers. “I would have you stay. I would. Only, you are a stranger here. It would never be allowed.”
Sydney nodded. “I know,” she whispered. “I dispute none of it.”
He shook his head. “How do you do that?” he said hoarsely. “How do you accept something that is so unpalatable to you?”
“Because it is the truth means it cannot be changed, not by any power I have.” She rested her hand against his chest, feeling the heat and the thud of his heart. “I have t
ried to find a way to change it. I have failed.”
Alim gaze shifted to something behind her. Abruptly, he pushed her away from him and straightened. “Rashid,” he breathed.
Sydney whirled.
Rashid stood only a few feet away. His hand was curled about his sword, the other in a tight fist. His face with the distorted eyes worked with a terrible rage.
He whirled and stalked from them, shoving people and horses out of his way.
Sydney turned back to Alim.
His face was a mask. “I will find a room where you can wait until prayers are done. Come.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rafe straightened up from the slouch he found himself in, bent over almost double in a chair made of wire mesh that dug into his skin even through his clothing.
He looked around, wincing at the dazzling light and struggling to adjust. Everyone but Veris and Marit was seated in the same type of chair as him, around a circular glass and steel outdoor table. The top of the table was scratched, in places deep enough to turn the glass opaque.
Scattered over the table were a collection of cups and glasses, all of them untouched, of course. The tall glasses held pastel liquids and sweated moisture beads. From the big, semi-spherical white porclain cups came the thick, woody scent of dark, south American coffee.
Outdoor café, Rafe identified silently to himself.
Alex, Taylor and Brody were turning their heads, trying to instantly orient themselves and assess where they were without giving themselves away.
The day was hot enough to make Rafe notice, which wasn’t good. If he could feel it, it was too hot for vampires. The sun was almost directly overhead. Waves of heat bounced off the concrete beneath them. The silvery edges of the table radiated more heat, while the traffic in the street only a few paces away belched warmth from their engines and chasses.
The cars were oddly quiet. Rafe figured they were all electrically powered. The sun bounced off their windscreens as they passed, making Rafe cringe even more.
There were people everywhere, hurrying along the sidewalk just on the other side of the rope barrier that separated the public area from the café. Most of the pedestrians had sunglasses and many wore hats. Their clothing looked almost normal. Jeans and teeshirts, tops and skirts. The materials were strange, though. Shiny, stretchy, or roughly woven, reminding Rafe of burlap...and of the badly-made tunics he once wore as a slave. Many of these pseudo-poor garments had logos printed on them as part of their design. Dufay. Garden of Mirth. Heaven Leaven. Even stranger names and distorted lettering. Rafe didn’t recognize any of the brands.
Kiss Across Seas Page 16