She tried to ignore the warm masculine smell of him as she lifted the brake again and let the car move forward. This time she kept it going until it started to lose momentum on a very slight incline. She even managed to turn the wheel slightly to stay on the right side of the road.
“If you want to go faster, you’ll have to move your foot to the other pedal. You don’t have to lift it, just swivel your toes over.”
Aliyah took a deep breath, squinted into the sunshine, and moved her toes as fast as she could to the other pedal. She pushed very gently and the car surged forward slightly. On instinct her foot jumped back to the brake and pressed it, lurching them both forward in their seats.
“Nice!” Gibran’s warm compliment made her feel good for a split second.
“It was terrible.” She grinned. “I almost launched us through the windshield.”
“Try again. You’ll get smoother each time.” His big hands sat on his broad thighs. He wore dark khakis today, with a gray shirt. She had yet to see him in Ubarite dress, but she liked the casual confidence his Western clothing gave him.
She breathed very deliberately again, and managed to move forward, add acceleration and brake, all without injuring anyone or creating loud squealing noises from the brakes or tires.
“That’s perfect. You’re done.”
“What?” She turned to stare at him. “I’m just getting started. I haven’t even tried steering yet.”
“You wanted to start slow.”
“I know.” She looked out the windshield at the open road—the road to adventure—spread before her like a gray carpet. “But I’m enjoying this. I want to try steering.”
“Excellent. Go for it.”
“But the road is straight.”
“There’s a bend about half a mile along it. Drive there and turn.”
Intimidated again, but also excited, Aliyah followed the road—very aware of exactly what her feet were doing, until a slight bend appeared. She was traveling very slowly, hands gripping the wheel like a vice, and when the turn came she tried to move the wheel smoothly but ended up wandering into the other lane before she slammed on the brakes with a jerk.
Luckily there was no traffic about. Not even a stray bird.
Gibran shifted in his seat, stirring those big thighs and his sturdy torso.
“Try again.”
She did. And then she drove further down the road and handled another bend much more neatly. They were heading out into the middle of nowhere, with her now holding the wheel more confidently, when a problem occurred to her.
“How are we going to turn around?”
Gibran laughed. “There’s nothing on either side of the road. You can just swing out onto the dirt and turn.”
With tremendous concentration, she drove a big loop out onto the sandy soil, then back onto the road, going back the way they’d come. Heart pounding, she drove back toward the palace, trying her best—and mostly succeeding—to stay in her lane. She managed to slow to a smooth stop a few yards from the east gate.
“You’re a pro already.”
“I can’t believe it’s so easy.” Exhilaration flooded her muscles.
“I told you that you could do it. You should listen to me more often.” His eyes were crinkled into a smile.
“I will, when you’re saying anything that makes sense.” She tossed her head slightly. She’d also survived being in very close proximity to Gibran and nothing had happened. He hadn’t even tried to guide her hand on the wheel.
For a horrible moment she realized she was a little disappointed about that. She needed to get out of here. “Do I just park the car here?” She’d already put it in park, proud that she’d remembered that last step.
“Yup. I have to drive out to a meeting in it in half an hour.”
She turned to him, a weird blaze of emotions rising through her. “Thank you. I really mean it. This has been a big day for me.”
“And it’s not even ten o’clock yet.” His wry smile was annoyingly adorable. She tried to remind herself that he was really a jerk. Or was he? He was certainly a hard man to understand, even for her whose life had once depended on understanding and anticipating a man’s wants and needs.
She climbed out of the car before he could come around to open her door. Strange emotions flooded her and she wasn’t sure how much was due to the unexpected victory of actually driving a real car, and how much was due to sitting right next to Gibran while she did it. Either way, she wanted to get away from him and get herself under control.
“Same time tomorrow?” she dared to ask, without looking at him. She’d come this far, and she was bold enough to go further—at least where driving was concerned.
“Absolutely. I’ll come pick you up and maybe we can—”
She didn’t hear the rest of his words because she started jogging back to her quarters, adrenaline rushing through her. She needed to get back to Nasri and Parsia, the two pillars of her world, and get grounded in reality again. “See you then.”
The next morning, Gibran woke earlier than he’d intended, rousing himself deliberately from dreams about Aliyah that tormented his mind and heated his body. He’d learned to control his dreams, or at least wake himself, after an enduring spell of nightmares when he first moved to France, away from his mother. He’d always been proud of his ability to shape even the darkest recesses of his unconscious.
So then why, dammit, couldn’t he get Aliyah out of his head? He was trained to keep silent in the face of torture, to say one thing while thinking another, and to kill a man with his bare hands if he needed. But in the presence of one small, rather quiet woman, he felt powerless.
He’d made the promises to her as much as a test of will as anything else. He was determined to prove to himself that he could resist her—could resist anything—or else who was he?
He hadn’t anticipated what sweet agony it would be to sit next to her in the car while she struggled with her fears and grew her confidence. His chest filled with pride as he watched her grip on the wheel grow surer and her breathing more steady. But the sensations racking his body were torture.
The smell of her! It could bring any man to his knees. Like roses and honey and sweet, sexy woman. And those mysterious silky dresses that hid her body from view only seemed to stimulate his thoughts about what exactly lay beneath them.
He blew out hard and straightened his shoulders as he approached her quarters. This was a driving lesson for crying out loud! It would be over in less than half an hour. And, as a man of honor, he was going to keep his hands—and his lips—to himself, as he’d pledged he would. If he couldn’t exert at least that much control over himself he should retire immediately from the sensitive field of security because a man who couldn’t manage his emotions and his body was a danger to himself and others.
He rapped on the door firmly, setting his face in a serious expression.
The door opened in a rush to reveal a smiling Aliyah, eyes sparkling, dressed in a pretty powder-blue dress with a gold hem. “Hi!”
“Good morning.” His voice sounded unnaturally gruff. “Are you ready?”
“Absolutely. I’ve been ready for hours. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling confident.” There was no need to punish her for his own disturbing feelings. “Today I’d like you to drive somewhere that you’ve wanted to go, but haven’t found a good reason.” It must be strange always having to ask someone to take you somewhere—like you’d have to justify the journey.
Her plump, pink mouth pursed as she thought—which sent an unfortunate rush of heat to his groin. “I know!” She revealed her pearly teeth in a heart-warming grin. “There’s a grove of trees around a spring. I saw it only one time, when I was a girl. My sister and brother and I were looking for a lost goat and we finally found it there.”
“It’s near your village?” He was still damn curious about her village.
“Not near at all. At least that’s how it f
elt to us back then. But by car it probably is quite close.”
“Let’s go.”
He tried to tug his gaze to the ornamental mosaics on the walls, but his eyes kept drifting back to the sight of her pert backside shifting inside her blue silk ensemble. The disturbing sensations flooding his body only made him more frustrated at the lack of progress he’d made yesterday in discovering who was behind the sabotage. Apparently the perpetrators had more self-control than he did. And that would keep him stuck here in the palace, sworn to keep his hands off Aliyah, until he could finally break the case and get back to civilization—or what passed for it.
Once outside the east gate, she didn’t wait for him to open the car door, but climbed right in. He buckled his seat belt and waited for her to reacquaint herself with the ignition and the gears and pedals. Without a word from him, she started the car and pulled smoothly out onto the road.
Chin lifted, she surveyed the road steadily, her elegant hands holding the wheel with calm confidence. “I haven’t forgotten anything you taught me.” She looked straight ahead, toward the mountains.
“I didn’t expect you to. Now where is this grove of trees we’re heading for?”
“I know the way.” She didn’t turn to look at him, but he saw the hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. She had the advantage of him and she wasn’t going to give it up.
Which should have annoyed the heck out of him, but instead it excited him more than ever.
She drove at a steady speed until they reached the first crossroads, where she slowed down way more than was necessary, indicated—which he’d totally forgotten to tell her about—and turned left.
“Great job,” he said, as she picked up speed after a neat turn.
“Thanks.” She finally turned and flashed that bright grin at him, and he felt as if the warmth of the sun had suddenly touched his skin. “This is fun.”
“You’re a natural.”
“Who knew?”
“Me.” He chuckled.
She drove in a straight line to an area northeast of the palace, where the flat terrain rose up into gentle foothills.
She followed the road without a hitch, up into the foothills, slowing her speed to accommodate the more challenging bends and the small hills and valleys.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked, as they rounded a tight corner.
“Never, but I’ve watched the drivers do it many times. And I practiced in my head last night. I drove the whole route in my imagination. I’ve always wanted to bring my girls up here.”
“Why didn’t you just have the driver bring you?”
“To sit under some trees? And who knows if they’re even there any more. I don’t like to waste anyone’s time.”
“It’s their job to keep you happy.”
“Nonsense.” Her laugh sounded like a glass bell ringing. “They have plenty of more useful things to do.”
“Now you can drive yourself any time. I even got you a license.” He opened the glove compartment and pulled the big, old-fashioned-looking paper license out of it.
She stared at the paper with her name and picture printed on it, then had to adjust the wheel as she’d drifted to the left on the road. “You’re distracting me! But how did you get that?”
He winked. “I have connections.”
“But I didn’t take a test.”
“Osman believed me when I told him you could drive. He made a phone call and it arrived within the hour.”
“I’ll have to warn him not to trust you,” she scolded.
“No need to warn him.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve just proved that I’m not a liar.”
“How careless of me,” she murmured with a smile. “But look! We’re here.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Aliyah pulled the car to a slightly jerky halt and almost forgot to put it in park before turning off the ignition. She was thrilled to see the grove of cedars still hugging their small valley in a green embrace that stood out from the brown countryside around them.
She stared for so long that Gibran was opening her door before she came to her senses. She hoped he didn’t think she expected him to wait on her, but she accepted his hand as she climbed out.
Then regretted it when a surge of warmth rushed up her arm at his touch. He’d kept his word and not made a single advance, or even a hint of one, during their drives.
Maybe he’d lost interest in her.
No, he hadn’t. Their eyes met and a surge of…something flashed between them. Oh dear. It really was better not to look at Gibran, and certainly better not to touch him. If he wasn’t somehow shocking or angering her, he was stirring her up in other, far more disturbing ways.
She tugged her gaze back to the cedars. “Listen, you can hear them rustle in the wind.”
“There is no wind.”
“Yes, there is.” She walked forward. She could hear the soft whisper of the branches that she remembered from that hot afternoon so many years ago. She and her siblings had rushed under the trees to escape the blazing sun and discovered a strange, dark world in there, with an almost perfectly round pool of water at its center.
Trying to forget about Gibran—which wasn’t easy—she walked toward the trees and into the shadowy grove. The temperature felt at least ten degrees cooler and the whispering grew louder, like djinn murmuring amongst themselves.
Unafraid, she stepped further into the little forest and walked until she saw the water sparkling in the scattered thin rays of sunshine that penetrated the canopy above.
On instinct, she knelt next to the water and peered into it. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see, but her own reflection surprised her. She dipped her fingers into the surface, watching them disappear.
Then she heard Gibran’s footsteps behind her. “Don’t drink that. It might not be safe.”
“I wasn’t going to.” He was probably right. If it were drinkable, there would likely be a settlement built around it whose inhabitants would have felled the trees and turned them into houses or furniture. “It’s beautiful, though, isn’t it?”
“It’s a pond.” He shrugged.
“What kind of Ubarite are you? We almost worship water here, because we have so little of it. Some people pride themselves on being able to smell it for miles.”
“I think we both know I’m not much of an Ubarite.” He crouched down and punched the surface of the water with a fist. “Which is just fine with me.”
This was where she should encourage him to think of Ubar as his home and talk about the relationships he’d forge with his brothers and sisters.
But then she’d have to see him and talk to him and that would be awkward. What a shame that things had turned so strange between them. But then they’d begun strange, too. Gibran was a strange man.
He watched the ripples from his punch dart across the surface of the water, then turned to her. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” Obviously she still wasn’t brave enough to express herself. Hiding her true feelings was so instinctual she wasn’t sure she even had access to them any more.
“Now you’re the liar.” He lifted a brow, which had a tiny scar running through the middle of it.
“Guilty as charged. I should have known better than to lie to you.”
“Too right. I’ve managed to extract the truth from tougher characters than you.”
He crouched right next to her, elbows resting on his knees, and she was aware of the muscular bulk of his thighs and arms. It was lucky he couldn’t tell her true thoughts.
“Okay, I admit I was thinking that you’re…unusual.”
“Or crazy. Can’t deny it.”
“Oh, there’s nothing crazy about you.” She wasn’t going to let him get off so lightly. “Unless you mean crazy like a fox. You like people to be on edge around you, and being unpredictable is part of your—game, for want of a better word.” She was figuring this out even as she said it. “But you�
�re very smart, and very sane.”
He laughed. “Sometimes I think my life would be easier if I wasn’t.”
“No one’s life is all that easy. Look at your brothers. How do you think they felt knowing that their mothers were killed by their father? In some ways they’ve probably suffered a lot more than you.”
He frowned and looked a little shocked. Then his expression softened. “I never really thought of it like that before.”
“And you’ve lived a privileged life, too: boarding schools, foreign travel, and all that. You didn’t really grow up like a boy who’s mother was a maid.”
“All true. I’m an ungrateful sonofabitch, aren’t I?”
“You are a pretty rude one, sometimes.” She lifted a brow at him.
“My language shocks you?”
“Yes. And you used it knowing it would shock me, which underscores what I said about you. You like to keep people unsettled around you. On their toes. Why is that?”
He stirred the surface of the water with a long, strong finger. “Maybe because I can’t relax, I don’t see why anyone else should, either.”
“And why can’t you relax?” She was hardly one to ask. She couldn’t either, unless she was home alone with her daughters.
She watched his chest rise and his brow crumple into a frown. “I suppose I’ve always blamed it on my origins. That I’m caught between worlds. I grew up in a palace but I’m not a king’s son and it’s not my home. I also don’t belong in the servants’ quarters, or in some tiny village in the mountains. Or anywhere. I’ve always felt that’s what keeps me restless, uneasy, like there’s nowhere I can just…be.”
“How about right here?” She watched him.
Crouched, muscles tensed as if ready to spring into action, Gibran didn’t look at all relaxed.
“Even here my ears are pricked to hear approaching cars or footsteps over the sound of the trees. Maybe all my military training and experience makes it hard for me to let my guard down.”
Desert Kings Boxed Set: The Complete Series Books 1-6 Page 54