by London Casey
Shielding her eyes, she looked to the south toward a stone-enclosed harbor so large it resembled a sea full of boats, yachts and ships of various sizes, small to gigantic. To the north was the blue jewel of the Mediterranean. She gazed up to the main building, soaring seventeen meters skyward. When lookouts were stationed here, they could spot invaders an entire day’s journey out to sea. On a clear day, perhaps she could see all the way to the Greek isle of Crete.
And this truly was a fortress, complete with inner and outer walls, gardens, courtyards and the towered fort of Qaitbay itself. No wonder it was referred to as the pearl of the Mediterranean.
Wandering around the impressive structure, she found her way to some of the coastal tunnels and passages under the walls that looked more like cave entrances. Thankful for the small windows set at intervals along the way that looked out to sea, Chrys wound her way around and through the dimly lit halls under the structure.
“Huh. Interesting,” she mumbled to herself as she huffed and puffed her way up the steepest flight of stairs in all creation. Thankful she was in halfway decent shape, her journey ended—well, almost ended—on the first floor of the famous Qaitbay Citadel’s main building.
There was no way in hell she was going to even attempt finding her way through the long, though interesting, passages. She’d just have to find Rahn from here. Better yet, she had two spirit guides watching her back. One of them would just have to go get him. As for Chrys, she was determined to sit her butt down in a chair and enjoy the silent company of the guards looking after the place.
Better yet, she was sure she’d spotted a bustling bazaar on the way here. Nothing like a good bout of shopping to get a girl back in a good mood.
Interrupting a heated debate between Mah and Adonei about the importance of post-sex conversation, she passed a thought to her companions.
‘Adonei, let Rahn know where I am, will ya?’
*He is already aware and nearing.*
Then to the guards, she said in perfect Arabic, “Excuse me.”
They eyed her askance, probably because she was an unescorted female. But these men would respect strength in a woman, even a foreign one. Motioning in the direction she wished to go, the bell sleeve of her white linen blouse fell back a bit to reveal taut skin stretched over well-honed biceps as she firmly, but respectfully, stated her request.
“Can you please assist me in the proper direction to hire a hantour to take me to the bazaar?”
One of the men passed a friendly smile, but before he could open his mouth, a stern-faced Rahn stood at her side. The soldier’s smile became a full-blown grin.
“Sir, how good it is to see you again. It has been a long time.”
Rahn gave the guard a slight bow and extended his arm to a gawking Chrysalyn. She had no idea why she was so surprised to hear Rahn converse in Arabic. After all, she’d just done it and she was a sistah from Colorado with no ties to this country to speak of. Rahn, on the other hand, had family here.
“Your aunt asked us to look out for you and your fiancée. She has been expecting you.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” A quick glance down at his watch was followed by a polite, “We must be going. We’re due to meet my relative at the bazaar in less than half an hour. Thank you for escorting my, er, fiancée. It is much appreciated.”
Chrys didn’t say a word as he hustled her out of the building, across the courtyards and through the gates. No complaints here—the bazaar was exactly where she wanted to go anyway. She couldn’t decide whether to grimace or roll her eyes when Mahpiya let a taste of Rahn’s irritation slip through the bond they shared with both spirit guides. He was a very unhappy camper. Might have something to do with her exploring on her own. Oh well.
Linking her arm through his, she flashed a blinding smile and walked beside him to the carriage that would serve as their ride.
Rahn’s anger crackled in the air. But damn it, she would never be a fragile flower. When would he see that? She hadn’t intentionally upset him, but it was simply in her nature to do things on her own. Something Chrys was willing to work on, but certainly not changeable overnight. Besides, what was the harm in wandering around an old fort? The place crawled with guards anyway.
“Rahn, won’t you speak to me?”
His answering growl spoke volumes. Damn, the man was otherworldly hot and hunky, even when he was pissed off.
“Baby, stop worrying. I was fine by myself. Besides, you’ve been attacked on this trip, not me.”
Oops. The stiffening of his spine screamed “wrong thing to say”. She tried to clean it up.
“Rahn, I’m not trying to diss you. It’s just that I’ve been on my own forever. Taken care of myself forever. Even with Delaine for a mischievous cousin, we grew up in different states. I only got to enjoy getting into trouble with her once a year, on our annual trip to Grandma’s on the reservation. I don’t want you worried about me, and I promise to try harder to let you protect me. Just realize that my independence isn’t meant to make you worry. It’s just who I am.”
Anguish was painted across his brow, but the expression in his clear brown eyes said he understood.
“And let’s not forget I’ve got two big bad African lions in my head with their power at my call simply for the asking.”
With a frustrated sigh and a rake through his stylishly cut hair, he said, “I guess I can’t expect you to do all the adjusting in this relationship. I’ll try to be a bit more understanding when your need to get into trouble surfaces. I can’t promise I won’t spank you afterward.”
The man had the yummiest smile this side of creation. Yep. Sin on legs, she thought as his grin did her in.
With her arm still twined around his, she leaned in close and inhaled. Mmm, he always smelled so good. All male musk and spicy love. He must totally exude some kind of kinky pheromone, because she couldn’t think of a time since they’d been reunited that she didn’t want to jump his bones. With a husky sigh, she whispered in his ear.
“Besides, right here, right now is the last time we’ll be alone for a while. Don’t waste it being angry. We’ll be at your aunt’s house for three days? Three whole days of sleeping without you? Damn. I can’t wait to get back to the ship so I can strip you and bathe every inch of your rock-hard body.” Had he stopped breathing? Good. She grinned secretly and continued. “Then I’ll straddle your perfect, manly, muscular thighs and slide down onto that delicious cock of yours.”
Rahn met her gaze with a deadpan expression. Chrys wondered what he was thinking until a flash of pure lust zinged from his light brown eyes. That stare became potent enough to singe her eyebrows. A quick peek downward revealed the ridge rising in his pants.
All on their own, Chrys’ slender fingers found their way to his groin and encouraged that ridge to grow a bit harder. All the way to the bazaar.
At their destination, the driver pulled the hantour up to a post where several other horse-drawn carriages were parked. Rahn paid the man, climbed down and tried to discreetly adjust himself.
“Damned woman.”
“What?” she asked innocently. “What’d I do?”
“I don’t have anything to cover this up.” He nodded discreetly toward the impressive bulge pushing against his zipper. “I’m almost tempted to go buy some traditional men’s clothing to hide this damned thing.”
“Well, I happen to like that damned thing.”
“While I’m glad you enjoy my cock, I don’t particularly want it on display. And I don’t even want to think about trying to walk right now.”
She laughed. Couldn’t help it.
A few clouds rolled in from the west, but it was still warm and balmy as they moved along. Turning a corner, Chrys screeched to a halt, biting the inside of her lip to keep her mouth from falling open.
The fabulous and unique scents and sounds of the bazaar hit her square in the face. Row after row of stalls and tents stretched out before them. This was heaven. Had to be. She’d never seen
so many different items available in an open-air market. This was like the flea market from God! And she could haggle with the best of ‘em.
Music floated from various directions. Some fast, some slow, all with the telltale hypnotic sounds of drums and pear-shaped stringed oud present in most music from this region. And so many oils and fragrances, it boggled the mind.
Aside from colorful hieroglyphs and drawings on leaf papyrus, there were paintings of pharaohs and their queens, ankhs, camels and such on black, brown and even bronze dyed leather. Rugs in every color and pattern imaginable, brass lamps, spices and perfumes, mother-of-pearl, silver and resin jewelry boxes. Another peddled heavy blown-glass oil lamps in a slew of vibrant colors with accompanying sweet, spicy and floral scented oils. Her favorite was a hand-blended mix of jasmine and vanilla with a touch of sandalwood and lemon. The aroma was so delicious, it even caught Rahn’s attention for a second.
The stall next door was packed with curio accessories, including lead crystal tea sets and water pipes. Chrys snatched up a royal blue hookah pipe along with a small brick of mango and orange sticky tobacco from an endless selection, determined to try it. Maybe she’d become a shisha connoisseur instead of a flavored cigar lover.
So wrapped up in shopping and purposely ignoring the shuffling drag of poor Rahn’s feet, Chrys almost missed her own stomach grumbling.
“Sounds like you could use a little something to eat.”
“Gee, you think? Snarky doesn’t become you, Rahn,” she muttered with a smile as she pulled him to the next tent.
“Oh yeah? Since when?”
Good question.
But when they ran across several booths with intricately designed, embroidered head covers called galabia, Chrys just had to look around some more. The women manning the booth explained that the head cover was usually black or white when outside the home, but could be myriad colors when worn at home. She bought four of them.
“Woman, where in the world will you wear those when we get home?”
Wicked incarnate, she turned to her mate. “For your information, I can wear them all the time with…nothing else.”
Rahn instantly relieved her of her mountain of purchases before his iron grip wrapped around her biceps. Rahn eased her around and through the milling crowd to a less populated section and into an empty booth. He released her long enough to tie the flaps closed and crowd her into the back room, again tying the flaps. God, he hoped this booth was empty for the day and not just empty for, say, the next five minutes.
“Rahn, what are you doing?” Chrys whispered, the corner of her mouth tipped up into a barely there grin.
“Minx. How ‘bout showing me what you look like in that scarf right now…and nothing else.”
“What? No way. What if somebody comes?”
“Should have thought of that before you decided to tease me,” he grinned with slow and deliberate intent.
“Oh please, give me a break,” she snorted, growing hotter by the second. Brown eyes practically aglow with sizzling heat, the man moved with purpose and grace, stalking her all the way across the tent. The back of her knees began to sweat. Oh god, please send a strong breeze to cool me down, she prayed. Because in a few more seconds, her little white linen pants outfit would be soaked through with more than just her own sweat.
Stiff with concern of getting busted having sex in an Arabic country in someone else’s tent, Chrys bit her lip to keep from moaning. Didn’t help at all.
“Aaaah.” The groan slipped out as she was turned around and bent over the nearest object. Rahn’s warm, wet tongue left a cooling trail across the skin on the back of her neck as his strong hands reached around her body. God, she loved when he did that.
Her breasts were at instant attention. Hell, even if he hadn’t lifted her blouse to caress them, they swelled so quickly she could almost feel the blood pumping through the veins underneath her skin.
The heat of the day couldn’t hold a candle to the temperature spike caused by the hard flesh pressed against her ass. Correction, the bare crack of her ass.
When the hell had the man taken her pants down? But she was so wet so fast, when he pressed into her yielding flesh and filled her in one stroke, Chrys didn’t give a damn about the methods he used to undress her.
The man was a machine, all hard, unyielding and perfectly tuned. And so totally able to hit the sweet spot deep inside her creaming pussy.
“Damn,” she panted. “God, that’s so good.”
“This is all I think about if you’re within a hundred meters of me. Sliding into your hot pussy. Diving into this cunt as deep as I can go. Then holding you close after.”
“Oh god,” she wailed. He was fucking her like she was his last piece of ass before he died. He took her hard and fast. And her orgasm spiraled up out of her belly just the same way—hard and fast.
And she loved every minute of it.
Nothing like an afternoon quickie in a public place to invigorate a sistah. Hell, it was even better than shopping.
Later, Rahn breathed an audible sigh of relief when he spotted his aunt moving through the crowd. She waved and smiled as she made her way over to them.
Slightly taller than Chrys, her hair was covered with a beautifully embroidered galabia. Smooth skin, barely a shade lighter than Chrys’ cinnamon tones, was visible on her face and hands. So this was a relative, eh? She knew it was probably a girl thing, but found herself wondering if the rest of Rahn’s relatives had such beautiful skin. With his half-British, half-Egyptian heritage, Rahn sported more of the too-much-cream-in-the-coffee tanned tones, and boy, did he wear it well. Chrys was sure she’d never met such a handsome, gorgeously built, muscle-toting, kissable man as hers. Okay, time to quit staring and drooling at Rahn and greet his aunt like she had some sense.
“It is so nice to meet you, Chrysalyn.”
“Chrys, please.”
“Thank you. Chrys it is. I am Sumanjah el Hattal. You may call me Aunt or simply Suman will do.”
The barely noticeable crinkles around her eyes and mouth brought to mind a mix of mature wisdom and a zest for life. She kind of reminded Chrys of her own aunts back home, who still lived on the reservation in South Dakota. Women who looked after their family, passed on wisdom and stood firm in the face of adversity, smiling all the while. And even though those women were friendly and sweet, they didn’t miss a thing and wouldn’t hesitate to tell you about yourself. And you’d better not call them by their first name, either.
Aunt Suman turned to Rahn. “I cannot stay long, but I do have news for you. Unfortunately, none of it is heartening.”
Rahn looked back and forth between the two women.
“Maybe it can wait until later? We still plan to stay with you and Uncle a few days.”
“Yes, but…”
The man was clearly torn between wanting to get the news on a possible suspect, but not wanting to leave her side to do it. Chrys tried not to roll her eyes, honest she did. But off they went, rolling upward in frustration before she could stop them.
“Rahn, why don’t you find me a cup of that delicious thick-as-axle-grease stuff you guys call tea. Or better yet, I’ll get it. We passed a stand with some goodies just down that way.”
“Chrys, no…”
“I’ll get some tea. You talk to Aunt Suman and do your job. I’m not officially on this case and I know you can’t discuss details while I’m present. It is kind of cool that your aunt is your informant.” Then she turned with an outstretched hand and said, “Ms. Sumanjah, I look forward to spending time with you and your family.”
“Chrys,” Rahn warned, the words pushed through gritted teeth.
Oh, please. She chuckled. He scowled and she reminded him that it was unlikely that she was a target.
Rahn practically bellowed, “And you know that how, exactly?”
Chrys’ blood ran cold, simply because she couldn’t answer the question. Yet she was determined that he not worry so much about her. Besides, in
all her years of service, she’d never fallen prey to a criminal or became a target. This case was no different. If anything, Rahn was more likely to be in danger, considering he was actually “working”. She was just along for the ride.
“Rahn, on the way here you promised to try to give me a little breathin’ room, remember? Look, what could possibly happen to me here? The place is stuffed with people hawking and buying wares. And I promise to stay within screaming distance, okay?”
He looked ready to take his promise back, but he snapped his mouth shut. Judging from his clenched teeth and matching fists, Chrys knew it had probably taken all his mental and physical strength to pin his lips together. Good, ‘cause she’d said all she had to say about it.
Giving him her back, she went off in search of something to drink. The tea served here was so strong that even though it was meted out in a cup barely bigger than a shot glass, it required at least three teaspoons of sugar just to get it down. But it was delicious and would stave off her hunger a bit longer. Not to mention the wonders of caffeine.
Standing outside one of the small cafes with a permanent location at the bazaar, she sipped the steaming brew and winced. Damn, it was potent stuff. Mahpiya and Adonei had been on high alert ever since she left Rahn’s side and it was beginning to get on her nerves.
*Can’t you two settle down? Or at least close down the link a little bit. Your edginess is making me nervous.*
But Chrys’ words only seemed to agitate them more. The next instant, both imposing spirits settled into a lion’s most common battle stance—feet planted firmly, eyes pinned on what they perceived as a threat, and ready to pounce.
Chapter Fifteen
“Avoiding me?”
Chrys almost dropped her tea when the cats pacing around in her head upped their roaring and growling.
‘Don’t worry, you two. I’ll be careful around him. He acts like a nice guy, but I’m beginning to have my doubts.’
For the first time in weeks, Chrys admitted to herself and her guides that there was something just a bit off about Eden, no matter how suave he appeared. Six years of undercover training kicked in and Chrys painted on a plastic smile and a serene façade. If she played her cards right, maybe she could get some answers in regard to what rubbed her companions the wrong way.