by Cara Albany
Lana lowered her gaze. She reached down and lifted a small pebble and tossed it into the water. Malik heard the soft splash and watched the ripples ease across the surface.
"I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth," Lana began. She glanced at him quickly as if to ward off any suggestion that she was criticizing him. "I didn't mean to suggest..."
Malik shook his head and smiled. "No offense taken."
Lana's shoulders relaxed. "I suppose you could say I have humble origins. My parents divorced when I was barely a teenager. My mother really brought me up. She was amazing. She passed away just as I was about to finish school, just as I was about to win a scholarship."
Malik saw Lana's eyes shimmer with moistness. Emotion cracked her voice.
"She would have been so proud, but she didn't survive the illness."
Malik knew better than to press for more details. He knew that his silence was what Lana needed most at the moment.
"I went to an East coast college. Met a boy there."
Lana glanced at Malik. Was she searching for his reaction to that? Malik made sure his gaze held steady, ensured that there was no judgment on his features. Lana turned her face away from him, apparently satisfied for the moment.
Lana continued: "Well, not really a boy. At the time, I thought he was a real man. The only real man I'd ever known." Lana sighed. "He was the love of my life. At least, that's what I told myself."
Lana paused. He could feel the struggle she was going through. This wasn't easy for her, but he was suddenly honored that she felt comfortable enough with him to share like this.
"That college was where I met Mia. She was my best friend, and she helped me through the dark times. And, boy, were there some dark times."
Malik kept his silence. The only thought that came to mind was that he knew now that they both shared one thing, at least. A darkness in their past.
"This boy. This man turned out to be less of a man than I'd thought he was. His family didn't think too much of me, either. Although, I didn't realize it at the time. I guess I was too caught up in Colton."
Lana turned to Malik. "That was his name, by the way."
Malik simply nodded, saying nothing. He realized she was talking about the man, Colton, as if he no longer was a part of her life. That one thought made his heart beat faster, gave him a sudden flash of encouragement. However, he didn't let any of that show on his deliberately blank features.
"Colton's family made it clear that I wasn't from the right side of the tracks. I didn't fit into their plan for their son. So, I was tossed to one side like an unwanted gift. Colton didn't exactly cover himself in glory either."
Lana scowled. Malik saw the pain in her eyes, but he also saw the determination in the tightness of her jaw, the firm line of her elegant brows. For a moment, he thought she'd never looked so beautiful, never seemed so alluring as she looked now, showing her inner spirit, the fight that lay deep inside.
"What happened?" Malik asked quietly.
Lana turned to him. She shrugged. "Colton became history, and I got on with my life. But, I learned an unforgettable lesson."
"What was that?" Malik asked, wary of the fire he saw burning in her gaze.
"Don't trust the rich," she declared in an even, assured voice.
Malik held her gaze. "Really?"
Lana nodded.
"So, what were you doing the night I met you?" Malik asked.
He saw her momentary surprise at his description of their first encounter. But, it was true. It had been a meeting, it had been how they had been brought together.
Lana shrugged. "I guess I was making sure that the rich pay what they should."
Malik nodded. "I see. Revenge," he said.
Lana looked shocked at his apparently perceptive remark. Was she surprised that he would understand her reasons for choosing such a profession, especially after how she'd been burned?
"That's one way of looking at it," she admitted.
"But, it's also a reflection of your good heart," Malik suggested.
Lana's eyes narrowed. "How so?"
Malik leaned closer and he saw that she didn't move away from him. "I think of the good causes you were helping. Not the idle rich you were punishing. And, you're right."
Lana's eyes widened.
"The rich deserve it," Malik continued. "They should be made to pay up. And I know." He grinned at Lana. "I've been to plenty of charity dinners. I've even dug deep into my own pockets. It's an obligation the rich should carry out without complaint."
Lana seemed surprised by his admission and his defence of her attitude.
Malik leaned in closer. "You had it hard, growing up, didn't you?"
Lana stiffened. "Not any more difficult than the other kids I grew up with," she said defiantly.
"Yes, but, those kids aren't sitting by the side of an oasis talking with a sheikh, are they?"
He saw her mouth open slightly. It looked so very tempting all of a sudden. There was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Malik eased a little closer. He caught her scent on the gentle breeze that swept through the oasis. It was a heady mixture that made his throat tighten, caused need to rise suddenly.
Lana's gaze drifted briefly down to Malik's mouth. He saw her cheeks redden slightly, and the urge to reach out and gently run the back of his fingers down the soft skin of the side of her face was almost impossible to resist.
Their eyes exchanged an unspoken word, a tentative acknowledgement that they both understood what this moment meant. And then he leaned closer, his lips inches from hers. He was so close now he could see the emotion in her eyes, a darkening with desire that gratified him. Malik felt her breath like a gentle feather against his skin.
He reached up and brushed his thumb across her cheek and her gaze flickered briefly toward his hand, taking in the gesture. There was a moment when he thought she was about to ask him not to do that, when he was sure she was going to lift up her hand and move his arm to one side, ending the sudden intimacy.
But she didn't.
Instead, he felt her lean ever so slightly against his hand, as if welcoming his touch. Once again, their eyes met, exchanging an unspoken question. He felt his heart quicken, sensed the blood pulse through his veins. He wondered if Lana was feeling anything remotely the same. If she was, the impassive mask of her features was doing a fine job of hiding it from him.
The cooling air of the early evening did nothing to stifle the flame that brought heat to his skin.
He dipped his head, closing the gap between them and then his lips brushed against hers. There was a galvanic shock, as if they had touched a lethal electric connection. He heard her gasp as he gazed into her eyes one more time.
And then there was no possibility of waiting any longer.
His lips crashed down on Lana's mouth and the world began to spin. He wrapped his arms around her, enfolding her, drawing her to him with desperate need. She softened into his embrace, a willing sacrifice.
Malik felt her grasp his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. She gasped as he probed her mouth with his tongue, need driving him forward to begin his exploration of her desire.
Her body slammed into his, and he felt her breasts against his chest, igniting a firmness in him that couldn't be disguised. The peaks of her nipples, hardened by desire, pressed against his chest.
He wanted to crush her against him, consume her, satisfy the need that had tormented him so many times during the past six months.
Supporting her, he guided her down onto her back, laying her head down onto the sandy ground. Keeping his hand behind her head, savoring the feel of her blonde hair entangled around his fingers, he lifted his head, separating their lips for a moment. He gazed down at Lana and saw how unwelcome was his premature end to their kiss. Her eyes were wide with consternation, and there was a pleading in them. In response, he dipped his head and reclaimed her lips, revelling in the wild sensations as he lay down upon he
r willing body. The feel of her beneath him was indescribable, the firmness of her flesh, the warmth of her, the scent that filled his senses driving him to a place he'd never guessed existed.
He felt Lana wrap her arms around him as he tasted her, as he probed her, seeking and finding everything he'd hoped for in this kiss. She drew him hard against her, eagerness beginning to take over, a ferocity on her desire that almost took him by surprise.
They were almost one, now, nearly at the point when there would be no going back. And still, every nerve in his body was on fire. He'd never felt anything like this with any other woman.
Never.
That realization was both shocking and utterly, completely welcome. He knew he'd crossed a barrier, one that he'd erected himself. Now, the time had come for something new, the entrance into as new world.
With Lana.
He felt them sink deeper into their bliss, and he wondered where the next step should be taken. Quickly his mind ran over the possibilities, seeking the answer. It wasn't easy, not when his mind had been overtaken by the reality of Lana in his arms, of Lana beneath him.
Just at the point when he'd made his choice, even although he still wasn't sure whether it was the right one, he heard something out of place. Instinctively Malik stiffened, and he sensed that Lana had noticed the sudden change in him.
Malik lifted his head quickly, feeling Lana's arms slide away from his shoulders. He turned his head and looked across to the other side of the pool.
And, when he did so Malik saw the last thing he expected to see in this sacred place.
There, on the other side, just beyond the trees Malik saw a man standing, watching them.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lana heard Malik utter a guttural sound in his own language, and she knew immediately that it was a curse. It couldn't be anything else.
She wondered how things had changed so suddenly. One moment, Malik and she had been lost in each other's arms, and the next, Malik was raising himself up onto his feet and staring across to the other side of the oasis. He stood like a defiant animal.
Lana sat up, shaking the sand from her hair. Her heart was thudding, and her breathing was still fast and urgent. She saw Malik, his body rigid, his shoulders tight. He was gazing across to the other side of the oasis.
Lana followed Malik's gaze and felt the blood freeze in her veins.
There was a man standing on the other side of the oasis, the reins of a horse in his hand. The horse's head was dipping nervously up and down, obviously sensing the rising tension in the air.
Malik glanced down at Lana. "Wait there, Lana. I'll deal with this."
Malik strode past her, his feet kicking up plumes of sand.
Lana gazed across at the other man. He was about the same age as Malik, but he was dressed in the traditional white desert robes with the crest of a headdress enclosing long, dark hair. The man had a puzzled, but defiant look on his face as he watched Malik make his way around the oasis.
Malik looked furious. Lana had never seen Malik look like that. He was like a predatory animal barreling toward an unwanted intruder. Malik was acting as if his territory had been invaded. Lana saw Malik's fists tighten into taut balls.
A sense of impending doom drove Lana to her feet. How long had the newcomer been there? How much had he seen? What was Malik going to do?
It was clear there was the possibility of some violent confrontation. That was the last thing Lana wanted. Not after what had happened between her and Malik only moments before.
The other man watched Malik make his way toward him, but there seemed to be no fear, no apprehension in the man at the sight of the sheikh who was bearing down on him.
Then Malik reached the man and halted. Malik's posture was defiant, barely contained rage tightening every muscle in his body.
"Who are you?" Malik roared.
The other man threw the reins of his horse over a nearby branch. He stepped forward, halting mere feet away from Malik. "I was about to ask you the very same question. But, I was too distracted by the little show you were putting on over there."
The man's gaze drifted languidly over in Lana's direction. His gaze was an unwelcome dark intrusion filled with barely hidden approval.
Malik stepped forward, thrusting his face inches away from the other man. "You haven't answered my question. What is your name? What tribe do you belong to?"
The man's gaze drifted to Malik. "I am from no tribe that you would know off." There was an insolent tone to the man's voice.
"You must answer me," Malik stated.
"Why must I?"
"It is written that tradition demands any man who intrudes on this place must show obedience," Malik stated.
Lana saw the other man's brows rise in disbelief. "Obedience? You are joking, aren't you?" He ran his gaze up and down Malik's taut frame. "And, who are you to demand such obedience?"
"I am one who you should consider it an honor to address in this place," Malik roared.
"Really? And you were showing your reverence for this place while behaving like that?" the man taunted.
Malik grunted, the sound echoing around the oasis. He leapt forward, seizing the man's robe. The man tried to resist, but Malik's strength was too much for him. Malik lifted the man up, tugging hard upon the robe's fabric. The man's feet were almost lifted off the ground.
Lana could see the man's face color, the sudden redness of his skin a sharp contrast with the white robe. The man's mouth twisted, his white teeth showing, and he tried to reach around and grasp Malik, but Malik merely shook the man hard, pushing him down.
The man sank to his knees, peering up at Malik, his eyes widening.
"How dare you address that woman in such a way," Malik yelled. The nearby horse neighed and pulled nervously at the reins wrapped around the branch. "You are not fit to be in her presence."
The man stared up at Malik. "I merely state what I saw."
Malik let out a guttural sound that seemed to come from another person, one that Lana didn't know. "You saw nothing," Malik yelled into the man's face.
The man was defiant and peered up at Malik. "Who are you to tell me anything?"
Malik leaned down. "I am Malik Al Kharif. And it is for the likes of me that this place exists. This is a place of honor, and you sully it with your filthy accusations."
The man froze. His face was a mask of disbelief. Lana could see words form on the man's lips, but Malik wasn't finished.
"In this place, I am the sheikh. I am the only man worthy enough to be in this place. This is the sacred oasis created by my forefathers. Do you understand?"
The man nodded his head and started to lower his gaze. "I had no idea, your excellency."
"Really?" Malik said, sounding disbelieving.
The man lowered his head even more. Malik released his grip on the man's robe. He turned to Lana, and she could see the rage in his eyes, see conviction written across his features. He'd made a statement, and it had been addressed as much to her as to the man who was hesitantly beginning to raise himself to his feet.
Lana started to make her way around the oasis. She saw the other man dust the sand from the lower part of his robe. Malik's fury was beginning to subside, and as she made her way closer to him, she could already sense the possible beginnings of regret for his impulsive outburst.
Malik ran a hand through his dark hair. His breathing was beginning to calm now, and he glanced at the other man and then back to Lana.
Lana reached Malik and laid a hand gently upon his arm. She could feel the tension in Malik's body, feel the heat of his skin. The sensation was in stark contrast to the feel of his skin before the interruption.
She looked across at the other man. He still looked shaken, but was glancing at Malik and herself, awaiting some explanation, she supposed.
"I believed this place was a place of refuge," the man said. "I had no idea one of such a noble tribe as the Al Kharif was here. If I had known that, I would not have intruded." Th
e man bowed his head. "I implore you for your forgiveness," he said raising a hand to his forehead in a gesture of obeisance.
Lana saw Malik glance at her. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He appeared to be considering what to do next. Lana rubbed her hand along his arm, a conciliatory gesture intended to calm Malik. It was her small attempt at guiding Malik toward a wise response.
Lana saw Malik's gaze drift down to her hand as it moved across his arm. She saw the flickering embers of calm fill the dark pools of his eyes.
Malik lifted his eyes to the darkening sky as if seeking guidance.
Then he reached across to the other man, settling his hand on the man's shoulder. "What is your name?"
"Ibn Al Maquad," he said.
Malik sighed. "It is I who should seek your forgiveness, Ibn Al Maquad. I have not behaved in keeping with the spirit of this place."
Ibn shook his head. "No, your excellency. You have every right, as you so forcefully declared to me only moments ago," he said.
Malik tried to smile, but Lana could see how difficult it was to do so. She was pleased that the two men were trying to reach some sort of honorable agreement.
Ibn turned quickly. "I shall be on my way. You have obvious priority here, and it is not my place to intrude."
Malik released Ibn's shoulder. "Please join us for some food."
Ibn shook his head vigorously. "Thank you, but, I shall be on my way."
Ibn looked at Lana and bowed. "My apologies. Ignorance shall always be with me," he said with a regretful tone.
Lana wanted to say something, anything which would ease the awkwardness of the moment. But, Ibn turned quickly and grasped the reins of his horse. He mounted and looked down at Malik and Lana. "Once again. My apologies," he said, turned his horse and started out on his way back to the desert.
"What will happen to him?" Lana asked.
Malik looked thoughtful. "He'll be fine. I get the impression he's a man used to the ways of the desert."
"Why did that happen?"
"This place is open to all, except at one time. When one of my tribe takes possession of the encampment. Then, no-one is allowed to intrude." Malik turned to Lana. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."