Marrying the Scarred Sheikh

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Marrying the Scarred Sheikh Page 15

by Barbara McMahon


  “Does she know?”

  “We don’t know. But out of respect we have not brought it up. If she does, it must hurt her and if she doesn’t, we don’t want to have her learn about it at this late date.”

  Ella nodded, understanding. She wished her family was as loving and concerned for each other instead of always thinking of money and how to expand the vineyard or protect the family name.

  “Your mother is lucky to have you two,” she said wistfully. Would she ever have a child? A strong son who would look like his father? Or a beautiful little girl with dark eyes and a sparkle that telegraphed the mischief she might get into?

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE afternoon was pleasant in the shade. Khalid had brought blankets to spread on the sand. The picnic lunch was delicious. Ella ate with relish. The cool water from the pool completed the meal. Afterward, Khalid made sure the blankets were in the shade and lay down. Closing his eyes, he looked completely relaxed.

  Ella watched him for a time, growing drowsy. Finally she lay down and closed her eyes. The quiet and peace of the oasis enveloped her and before long, she slept.

  When she awoke, Khalid was nowhere to be seen. The Jeep was parked where he’d left it so she knew he hadn’t gone far. She splashed cool water on her face and then rose, folding the blankets and putting them in the back of the Jeep.

  “Khalid?” she called.

  He appeared a moment later from behind a sand dune. “Just checking things out,” he said, walking back to the shady area.

  “Sandstorms can wreak havoc in this area. That’s what brought down the plane my father’s daughter was on. Yet time and again, this oasis reappears. I was trying to figure out why. Ready to return to town?”

  Ella nodded, feeling reluctant to end the afternoon. She looked around, imprinting every bit of the scene in her mind. It would forever be special—because of Khalid.

  The sooner they were back among others, the sooner she could get her emotions under control. She really wanted to stay. To camp out under the stars. To share feelings and thoughts on the vastness of the desert and the beauty found despite the harshness.

  To tell him he was loved.

  That she could not do. She hurried to the Jeep and jumped in.

  Quraim Wadi Samil seemed to shimmer in the late sunshine as heat waves distorted the air. They drove into the town and straight to the hotel. Ella felt wrung-out with the heat. She would relish the coolness of the hotel. She began to long for the cottage by the sea. At least there seemed to always be a breeze by the Gulf.

  “Dinner at seven?” Khalid asked as they entered the lobby.

  “That’s perfect.” It would give her time to shower and change and cool down.

  Her room was spacious with little furnishings to clutter the space. She lay down for a few moments, wondering if there could be any future between her and Khalid. His fake engagement had been to help her out, made public by the minister. Since he already had it in for Khalid’s family, they dare not end the engagement so soon without negative gossip. Yet the longer it lasted, the more people would expect to see them together, and expect plans for a wedding to be forthcoming.

  She wished she was planning a wedding with Khalid. She would so love to spend the rest of her life with him. It would be very different from the life she had before. Khalid had a stronger intensity with life than she was used to. Was it because he flirted with death whenever dealing with oil fires?

  The thought of him being injured again had her in a panic. Would he consider not doing that in the future?

  As if they had a future.

  Ella rose and went to take her shower. She had some serious thinking to do. She could not bear to fall more in love with the man and then have fate snatch him away. Maybe it was time to consider going back to Italy and finding a life she could live there. She’d already lost one man she loved. She could not go through that again.

  At least if she left, she could always remember Khalid as he was today. And hope to never hear of his death. As long as he was living in the world, she could find contentment. Couldn’t she?

  Khalid met Ella at the elevator when she stepped off in the lobby at seven. He had been tempted to go to her room, but had mustered what patience he could to wait for her in a public place. She’d looked perfect that afternoon sleeping in the shade at the oasis. He’d wanted to touch her cheeks, faintly pink. Her hair looked silky and soft. He had touched her hair before and knew its texture.

  He was playing a fool’s game, tempting fate by spending time with her. What if he became attached? He knew what he could expect from life. He’d made his peace with being alone years ago. His work was interesting and challenging. Especially when fighting fires. He liked the men he worked with. Liked being consulted by Rashid from time to time.

  But he couldn’t change reality. A scarred and bitter man was not going to appeal to a pretty woman like Ella. He’d help her out because he disliked the way her brother was handling things. And her family sounded totally unlike his. Despite the scarring, his family rallied around when needed.

  He moved away from the pillar where he’d been leaning when she stepped out. Her look of expectancy touched him. When she spotted him, she smiled. Khalid felt it like a punch in the gut. It always made him feel whole again. She didn’t seem freaked out by the scar. He still remembered the night she had cupped his cheeks, touching the damaged skin without revulsion. He’d never forget it.

  “I thought I wouldn’t want to eat again after that lavish lunch,” she said as she hurried over to meet him. “But now that I’ve cooled down, I’m famished.”

  “Then let’s hope they have enough food to fill you up.”

  She laughed. He almost groaned. Her laugher was like water sparkling and gurgling over rocks in the high country. Light and airy and pleasing. He wished he could hear it all his life.

  “So tomorrow we return home?” she asked as they walked to the restaurant.

  “Yes. We’ll summon a plane if you like.”

  “I’d love to see the country between here and the coast, but not in a hot Jeep like today. It was fine for a short foray into the desert, but for the long drive home, I’d like more comfort.”

  “Your wish is my command,” he said. He did wish he could do anything for her she wanted. An air-conditioned car would be easy. Could he help with selling her artwork? He knew nothing about that. But his mother did. If she’d just warm up to Ella a little, she’d be a tremendous help.

  He had a life-size picture of that ever happening. Rashid was head over heels in love with Bethanne, and his mother still chided him for not seeking the woman she had wanted him to marry. He wasn’t head over heels in love with Ella. But he liked being with her. Liked hearing her take on things. It gave him a different perspective.

  He loved hearing her talk period. Her voice carried a trace of accent. Her Arabic was quite fluent, but softer than most women’s. He liked it.

  “Khalid!”

  He looked at her.

  “What?”

  “I asked how long it would take to drive back to the coast. Where were you?” She peered up at him.

  “Woolgathering. It takes about eight hours. It’s a long and boring drive. The road is straight as a stick and there’s nothing but sand and scrub bushes as far as the eye can see. We can do it, but I’d rather fly home and spend the afternoon at the beach.”

  “That does sound nice.”

  The maître d’ appeared and showed them to a secluded table. He presented the menus with a flourish then quietly bowed away.

  “No argument? I thought you wanted to drive home,” he said.

  “Well, you’ve obviously been across the desert and if it looks all the same, maybe I don’t need to experience it for eight hours. You can take me on another trip to the desert if I need more inspiration,” she replied, looking at the menu.

  “Maybe.”

  She looked up and grinned. “We are supposed to be engaged, remember?”

  “I thou
ght you wanted to talk about that,” he said. He had not planned for things to get complicated when he’d told her brother they were engaged. How was he to know it would come out and his mother would make a big production about it?

  “So I do. How do we get out of it?”

  He stared at her—realizing for the first time he did not want to get out of it. He could understand her haste in ending the agreement. Hadn’t his fiancée tossed him over because of the scar? But he wanted Ella to pretend a bit longer.

  “We can say we fought on this trip and the deal is off,” he said slowly.

  She looked at him thoughtfully. “So whose fault was it?”

  He met her gaze, almost smiling. “Does it matter?”

  “People will ask. And if they don’t, they will speculate.”

  “Have it be mine. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it does,” she said passionately. “If you break it off, that’s not very nice of you. And if I do, that doesn’t reflect well on me.”

  “So I play the villain. It won’t impact my life.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Not fair. You tried to help me out. And I appreciate it. Antonio would still be here trying to coerce me back to Italy if you hadn’t.”

  “So if I can’t break it off and you can’t, we don’t.” Was that the solution? Keep the engagement going long enough for her to feel more comfortable around him. Would she ever see beyond the exterior to what he thought and felt? Could she ever fall in love with him?

  Unlikely. She still loved her dead husband. And he sounded like a paragon. Intellectual. A professor. What did an oil field roustabout have to offer in comparison? Granted he had position in the country, but she hadn’t been very impressed being seen with a sheikh. He had money, but she came from money herself and was unimpressed. Not like other women he’d dated years ago. In fact, nothing seemed to impress Ella. That was one thing he loved—liked—about her. Money and stature and material items others were impressed by seemed inconsequential to her. She liked people—and it didn’t seem to matter what they had or did; if they were of interest to her, she was friendly. If not, she was cordial. And someone who knew her well could easily tell the difference.

  “So we stay engaged for a while longer,” she mused. “Suits me.” Her attention turned back to her menu.

  Khalid felt a strange relief at her compliance. At least for a while longer, they continued being engaged.

  And didn’t engaged couples kiss?

  The thought sprang to mind and wouldn’t leave. He glanced at her. Her attention on the menu, he had ample time to study her lips, imaging them pressed against his again. Imagine feeling her soft body against his, passion rising between them.

  If he didn’t stop soon, he’d embarrass himself. He wanted dinner ordered eaten and over. They could walk to the square. The day’s heat was abating. It would cool down soon as the desert did at night. They could find a secluded spot and watch the stars appear. And he’d hold her and kiss her and pretend for one night everything was normal.

  It almost worked that way. They agreed to stroll through town when dinner finished. And when they found a parapet overlooking a city garden, they leaned against the still-warm stone and tried to make out the plants in the garden. But the light faded quickly. Turning, Ella looked up at the sky. “It’s growing darker by the second. Soon a million stars will show.”

  He nodded and stepped closer, bringing her into his arms. “And you are more beautiful than all of them,” he said, and kissed her.

  Nothing was normal about that kiss. He felt every inch of his body come alive as he deepened the kiss. She responded like she had been waiting as long as he had. Her mouth was sweet and tender and provocative. Her curves met his muscles and tempted him even more. Her tongue danced with his, inflaming desire to a new level. The parapet disappeared. The stars were forgotten. There remained only the two of them, locked in an embrace that he wanted to go on forever.

  Forgotten was the hideous scar that so repulsed others. Gone was the fear he would never find a woman to overlook the distortion even for a night. Khalid felt he was soaring. And he loved every moment.

  If only it could last forever.

  But it was not fair to Ella to kiss her when he’d coerced her into this engagement. Slowly he broke off the kiss, pleased when she followed him as he pulled back—obviously not wanting to end the kiss.

  He was breathing hard when they parted. She was, too.

  “Wow,” she said, then turned. “I think we should go back to the hotel.”

  He wanted to agree—if she meant they’d go to his room. He wanted to make love to her so badly he ached from head to toe. Yet nothing she’d said or done gave him any indication that was where her thoughts were heading.

  They turned and walked back toward the hotel.

  “Did you arrange for Bethanne to pick us up tomorrow?” she asked as they came into the light spilling into the street from the hotel.

  “She’ll be here at nine.”

  “Good.”

  When they entered the lobby, Ella quickened her pace. She punched the elevator button almost savagely. She hadn’t looked at him once since they came into the light.

  “Ella, if you’re upset—”

  “Why would I be upset?” she asked in a brittle tone. “Engaged couples kiss all the time.”

  The elevator arrived and she stepped in, punching the number for her floor.

  Khalid hesitated, then remained where he was. She did look up as the doors began to close.

  “See you in the morning,” he said before she was lost from view.

  Turning, he went back outside. A long walk—like maybe to Alkaahdar—was required. He hoped he had his head on straight come morning.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could she have responded so freely to Khalid’s kiss. No wonder she drove him away. He didn’t even want to escort her to her room. Probably thought she’d jump him and drag him inside. Ella paced her room, slapping the wall when she reached it. Turning, she paced to the other wall, slapped it. What could she do to make things come right? She knew he had only helped her out. There was nothing there. How could she have responded so ardently?

  Because she loved him and knew he had been lacking in love for years. She wanted to hold him close, pour out her feelings, let him know she loved him beyond anything. But to do so would probably have him running for the nearest exit. A kindness to help her out of a jam didn’t mean he was falling for her. He had his life, she had hers.

  “Stupid!” she almost shouted the word.

  Taking a deep breath, she crossed to the bed and sat down hard. Nothing was going right. She was at odds with her family, had lost her husband—whom she was having trouble remembering when every time she tried her mind saw Khalid. She felt a flare of panic. She couldn’t forget Alexander. He’d been her childhood sweetheart. They’d had a nice marriage. At one time she thought he was the only man for her.

  Only Khalid had a way of making her forget him. Forget the sweet love they’d shared for the hot and passionate feelings that sprang to life anytime she saw Khalid. Or even thought about him.

  Daydreams about what life together could be like. And fears for his safety. She had to get away. Pack her things, face her parents and take complete charge of her life. She didn’t have to marry anyone. It wasn’t her fault her brother had a gambling problem. Time he faced the music and not expect her to martyr herself on his behalf.

  And if she made it big in art, great. If not, maybe she could do stained glass work, or something to keep doing what she loved. It wasn’t the same as sharing a life with a man she felt passionately about. But it would have to suffice.

  If she could make it on her own. Somehow she must find a way to be self-supporting.

  Which meant staying in the cottage was her best bet—the lease was solid for another four years. Khalid would get tired of hanging around and move on. Or sell the estate with the cottage occupied. She could make sure she didn’t walk along the be
ach at night. Or venture outside if she knew he was in residence.

  She’d faced worse. She could do this.

  “But I don’t want to,” she wailed, and burst into tears.

  The next morning Ella felt more composed. She ate a small breakfast in her room. Made sure no traces of last night’s tears showed and descended to the lobby promptly at nine. Khalid was nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t gotten the time wrong, had she?

  One of the porters saw her and came over. “I will take your bag. You should have called down. The taxi is waiting.”

  So he wasn’t even going back with her. That should help. But Ella felt the loss to her toes. Much as she’d talked herself into staying away from him in the future, she still hoped to fly back with him this morning. Saying goodbye silently so he’d never know, but having a few more hours of his company. Now even that was denied her.

  The gleaming white jet sat on the runway with a bevy of men working around it. The cab stopped near the plane and a man rushed over to get her bag. She felt like royalty. Tears stung as she tried to smile and walked to the plane. She missed Khalid and it had been less than ten hours since she’d seen him.

  Bethanne popped out of the opened doorway. “Hey, let’s get a move on. I’ve got another run later,” she said with a wide smile.

  It must not be odd that Khalid wasn’t with her, Ella thought as she ran lightly up the stairs.

  “Where to later?” she asked, hoping Khalid would not be a topic of conversation.

  “To take Khalid and his crew to that fire, of course. Didn’t he tell you? Since I was already airborne when the call came in, he’s staying here and I’m flying back to get the rest of his crew and then we’ll head for Kuwait.”

  Ella felt her heart freeze. “Another fire?” she said. He had not told her. He had not contacted her at all that morning. Which should show her more than anything how nebulous their connection was. It was not her business after all. He saw no reason to inform her.

  “A double from what I understand. Want to sit up in the cockpit? We can talk as I fly.”

 

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