Taming the Sheik

by Carol Grace

  “No one cares about that,” he said.

  “I care,” she said. “I told you I was a virgin. You asked me why and I told you it was partly for lack of opportunity. Now I know that isn’t the whole story. I know now that even given the opportunity to lose my virtue, I will remain a virgin until I marry. I want to marry someone who respects me, who loves me and who appreciates me.”

  “But, Anne, I respect you and I appreciate you, more than you know.”

  She nodded sadly. She noticed he hadn’t said he loved her because he didn’t. At least he was honest. He hadn’t said he’d marry her either, but that was not a surprise.

  “I know you do,” she said. “And I also know I don’t know if I’ll ever find anyone who will offer me what you have tonight. But I know I’m not going to make love with anyone until I find that person, the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

  Rafik’s face was a display of disappointment. His eyes were dark pools of sadness. “And if you don’t?” he asked.

  “If I don’t, it won’t be the end of the world,” she said. “I have a life. I never went around looking for a man to marry and I never will. I never felt unfulfilled. I never yearned for a man to complete my life either. If it happens, it happens.” She was proud of how level her voice was, how calm she sounded when inside she was a mass of contradictions.

  Her body was still on fire, she ached for Rafik to make love to her. She knew deep down she might never have another chance, and this saddened her more than she’d ever let him know. She also knew she was right. And this certainty gave her the courage to call a halt to his lovemaking and tell him how she felt.

  He got slowly to his feet. For the first time since they’d met she thought he looked uncertain as to what to do next. Whether to stay or whether to go. He looked as if he wanted to say something, to try to persuade her to change her mind. He looked as though he wanted to stay but knew he must leave. After a long, searching look at her face, he seemed to make his decision.

  “I’ll say good-night then,” he said, his voice slightly uneven. “I hope I haven’t spoiled your weekend. It’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

  He didn’t say what the first thing he’d wanted to do was, but she thought she knew. He’d come to make love to her. She was flattered, disturbed, excited, let-down and sad all at the same time. She didn’t get up to see him to the door. She didn’t trust her legs to support her. She buried her face in her hands and didn’t look up until she heard the door close softly. Then he was gone.

  She didn’t sleep well that night. She wondered if he did. She tossed and turned, as erotic images of what might have been played across her mind like an X-rated movie. She knew she’d made the right decision, but she couldn’t banish the doubts. Couldn’t deny the voice in her mind that told her she might never have another chance. That she might go to her grave a virginal spinster schoolteacher. She’d told Rafik she’d never gone around looking for someone to marry. Never yearned for a man in her life or felt unfulfilled. But that was then. This was now. She was not the same person who’d met a sheik at a wedding some weeks ago.

  She now knew what she was missing. She knew that Rafik had opened up a whole new world to her. A world of feelings and emotions she’d never experienced before. Or if she’d felt them, she’d kept them under wraps. She had no idea that her body could respond the way it had, so strongly that she almost gave in to temptation. That didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t in love with her and even if he had been, he had no intention of marrying her.

  The next morning, she was full of resolve not to let Rafik spoil her weekend. She hoped he’d gone home, but if he hadn’t, that was up to him. It had nothing to do with her. She was determined to get as much out of the conference as possible. She walked briskly along the winding path to the main center for the continental breakfast.

  Her friend Jean caught up with her on the path. “How was it?” she asked.

  Anne stared at her for a long moment. Did she know? Had she seen Rafik leaving her cabin? “Fine. Oh, the wine. It was great. Thank you so much.”

  “I hated to leave you in the lurch like that.”

  Anne was determined not to say a word about Rafik, the less said about his visit the better. Especially now that she realized Jean didn’t know he was there. Or had been there. She could only hope he’d gone back to San Francisco. But he hadn’t. He came up behind them, announcing himself with a cheerful good morning. Anne caught her toe and stumbled on the pavement. Her heart leaped almost to her throat.

  “How are you ladies this morning?” he asked.

  Jean turned and her mouth fell open in surprise. All three of them stopped to exchange greetings. Anne knew it was the only thing to do, though every instinct told her to run. She even had enough composure to ask Jean if she remembered Rafik and reintroduce him.

  “Remember him? How could I forget?” Jean asked. Then she turned to Rafik. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Then she chuckled. “As if I didn’t know. Anne, you devil, you never said a word.”

  Fortunately Rafik knew what to say, because Anne was tongue-tied. “It was a surprise,” Rafik said. “She didn’t know I was coming. Neither did I until the last minute.”

  “You should have told me,” Jean chided them both. “Do you play golf? Because Art is going to Pebble Beach this morning and he’s looking for a partner.”

  Rafik assured her he did play golf and would be delighted to join her husband at one of the famed Pebble Beach golf courses. He turned around and went off to connect with Jean’s husband so they could make plans.

  “What a surprise,” Jean said with a sideways glance at Anne after Rafik had left. “No wonder you look like you haven’t slept a wink.”

  Anne gulped. How could she answer that? She couldn’t. All she could do was to smile enigmatically. Fortunately some other teachers joined them and that was the end of any more talk about Rafik. But not the end of Anne’s thoughts about him. If only he’d left early that morning. Or better yet, last night. Now he was playing golf today and heaven only knew when he’d leave for good. She couldn’t go through another evening like last evening. She thought Rafik was sensitive enough not to want to either.

  The day dragged by. Though the sessions were interesting, Anne couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t stop thinking of Rafik, wondering what his plans were and how he felt about last night. She hoped she hadn’t hurt his feelings. She hoped when he thought it over, he’d realize why she’d said no. Why she was saving herself for marriage. She hoped he didn’t think she’d led him on, then changed her mind.

  After the last workshop, Anne avoided Jean. She didn’t want to have to explain anything to her. Didn’t want to answer any questions about their plans for the evening in case she suggested the four of them get together. She hoped Rafik would go home, then she could explain that he had business to attend to and couldn’t stay any longer.

  Anne made a quick trip to her cabin to grab her jacket, determined to enjoy a walk on the beach by herself while she had the chance. Fortunately there was neither a note pinned to the door nor a bottle of wine on the porch. She hoped she’d be alone tonight. She’d build her own fire and sit there watching the flames by herself. She might be lonely, but lonely was better than losing her virtue to a man who had seduction and not marriage on his mind. She hoped Rafik would be far away by then. But would he be far from her thoughts? She had to make an effort to banish him to the periphery of her consciousness where he belonged. Some day he’d be gone altogether from her life, but not quite yet.

  She headed out onto a rickety boardwalk through the ice plant toward the dunes. The wind blew; the sun shone its last rays on the shimmering water. She needed the cold air to blow away her problems and soothe her anguished psyche. There were a few other people on the beach, some walking their dogs, a few couples arm in arm as they trudged through the sand.

  But as dusk fell, she kept her head down and didn’t see an
yone. Her thoughts were filled with ways of getting out of this awkward arrangement with Rafik. She wondered when and how they could break off the engagement. It couldn’t happen any too soon for her. Surely, after last night Rafik must be feeling the same.

  She was so wrapped up in her worries, she didn’t realize how far she’d walked or how late it was until she looked at her watch. Only then did she turn around and start back. Instead of walking, she jogged. The cold air filled her lungs, and she was glad she’d come out this evening. The exercise took her mind off her problems. It might be hard going, plodding through the sand, but she ought to do this more often. She needed to get out and run. It was good for the body and good for the soul, too. If you pushed yourself to the limits, you couldn’t worry about a little thing like a false engagement.

  She continued to congratulate herself on her newfound love of exercise until she stumbled over a large piece of driftwood and twisted her ankle. She gasped in pain and fell forward, bracing herself with her hands, as she landed on the sand. She lay there panting. When she caught her breath she touched her ankle and jumped as the pain shot through the bone. She sat with her legs stretched out in front of her staring at her feet. With an effort, she got to her knees and told herself to get up and walk. But she couldn’t. She fell back onto her rear, realizing her ankle was not going to support her. After only a few minutes it had swollen to the size of a tennis ball.

  Tears of frustration filled her eyes. She felt foolish and stupid. She’d come too far. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going. She hadn’t paid attention to the time or the distance. She’d been thinking of Rafik. It was all his fault. Gingerly she touched her ankle again, thinking she’d been a wimp. It might not be so bad. It might even be getting better. She ran her fingers over the lump, hoping the swelling had gone down, but it hadn’t. The tears ran down her cheeks. She sobbed.

  She told herself crying would not help. She couldn’t just lie there crying like a baby. She had to do something. Like call for help. She swallowed hard, then she called for help over and over. But no one heard. No one came. She yelled until her voice was hoarse. She crawled across the sand, dragging her sore ankle behind her until she finally stopped to rest. She wouldn’t give up. Even though at this rate it would take all night to get back to the conference center. It didn’t matter. She had to do it. She forced herself to move. Sand blew into her ears, sifted into her mouth and grated her skin.

  She took a deep breath and tried again. “Help, help! Anybody. Please help me. Rafik. Rafik. Where are you?”

  She was cold. She’d never been so cold. The wind went right through her windbreaker and the sweater she wore. She had visions of hot chocolate, of a warm fire. But the vision she couldn’t dismiss was Rafik. Rafik trudging across the dunes to rescue her. That’s when she knew she must be hallucinating.

  Chapter Eight

  Rafik spent a pleasant day on the golf course with Jean’s husband. He had learned to play as a boy in his country at a club where the course was made of rough greenery and watered with recycled water. As usual, he and his brother had kept up a friendly rivalry in golf, digging holes in the sand for a makeshift putting green at the family compound. They competed in golf as they did in all sports, from touch football to sailing races in the Gulf waters, and as they did in life in general. Rafik managed to keep up a friendly conversation with Jean’s husband while his mind was on Anne and the events of last night.

  He’d certainly misjudged Anne. Even worse, he’d misjudged himself. He’d thought he could seduce her. He’d thought he could seduce anyone he wanted. He always had in the past. Also he felt sure she wanted him as much as he wanted her. The strange part was, she probably did, but her scruples prevented her from doing anything about it. He’d never run into anyone like her before.

  He respected her for that. She was saving herself for marriage. He wondered what kind of a man she’d marry when she did marry. He had no doubt she’d marry. She was everything a man wanted. A man who wanted to get married, that is. She was sweet and beautiful and sexy and smart, too. Even Rahman had noticed.

  She wouldn’t marry a sheik. She’d made that quite clear. That decision didn’t hurt his feelings. Not at all. She was entitled to her opinion that sheiks were rich and spoiled. He had to admit that comparatively speaking, he was rich. Maybe he was spoiled, too. He had everything he wanted. Except for Anne. She wasn’t available except for marriage. It was frustrating, but he thought he’d better get used to the idea, because if ever he saw determination in anyone’s eyes or heard it in their voice, it was last night in her room when she’d told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t interested in an affair with him.

  As soon as he saw her he’d tell her he understood, and he wished her the best. Then he’d call off the engagement. He’d make up some story for his family and let her get on with her life. There was no reason for her to waste any more time on him. Before he walked out of her life, he wished for two things. The first was impossible—that he could make love to her—and the second was faintly possible; he wanted to show her he wasn’t the selfish spoiled rich brat she took him for.

  He was so engrossed in his plans for the future, he let Jean’s husband win the game, something he never would have permitted, not without a battle, in his past matches. Losing would have bothered the old, competitive Rafik. Now he just didn’t seem to care all that much. Jean’s husband bought him a beer in the clubhouse after the game, and it was almost dark as they drove back.

  In the car, as they passed the manicured greens on one side of the highway and the dark blue bay on the other, Art told him how much he was looking forward to spending the evening with his wife. His eyes brightened when he talked about his two children, and he remarked on what a rarity it was to get his wife alone for the weekend, at least part of the weekend. When they parted in the parking lot, Rafik felt almost envious. Those cabins with their big fire-places and huge beds covered with down quilts were made for making love. But not for him. Not tonight. And not ever with Anne.

  He was practicing his speech as he walked to Anne’s cabin, about how much he respected her and understood her position. But when he got there he could see it was dark inside, and there was no response when he knocked. He went to Jean and Art’s cabin to ask about her, but she wasn’t there. Jean said she hadn’t seen her since that afternoon. He strode briskly to the main building, a slight feeling of apprehension nagging him.

  Maybe the sessions had gone on late, or maybe she was lingering over coffee, talking to friends. But the session was over and there were only a few teachers gathered in informal discussions. He asked them if they knew where she was, but they didn’t even know her. One suggested that he check the beach. She’d seen someone in a jacket pass by the window an hour or so ago heading up the beach.

  Rafik frowned. It was dark out there. The moon was nowhere to be seen. If she’d gone for a walk, she’d be back by now. Unless something had happened. A wave washing her out to sea. An encounter with a rabid animal. He shrugged off such preposterous ideas, but he couldn’t get rid of the worry that nagged him. He pushed open the heavy door to the deck and stood there listening to the pounding surf for a moment. The wind howled in the cypress trees and whistled across the sand. He had a choice. He could go back to his cabin and pace up and down and wait for her to call him. After all, she might have found a ride and gone back to the city. No matter how she felt about him, he didn’t really think she’d go without telling him. So he had no choice really. He had to try to find her.

  His mind was full of images. Anne on a cliff, washed out to sea by a huge wave. Anne tossed about by an angry sea. Anne surrounded by sharks. Or Anne being torn to shreds by mad dogs on the beach. He walked faster and faster until he was running. He thought he was running, but the wind pushed him back, the sand pulled at his feet and dragged him back. He wondered if he was making any progress at all.

  “Anne. Anne.” When he called her name, the wind tore the words from his mouth and swall
owed them up. It was so dark he could only see a few feet ahead of him. He stopped and stood on the wet sand staring out to sea. He could see nothing, hear nothing but the roar of the ocean.

  He plowed into the wind again, calling her name until he was hoarse. He had no idea how far he’d come, but he imagined he could hear her voice. He wanted to hear it so badly he thought he did hear it. He crisscrossed the beach and then he saw her, sprawled out on the sand. His heart thudded. She had to be all right, she had to. If anything had happened to her…

  He bent down and lifted her up in his arms. She clung to him like a limpet clinging to a rock. He could feel her heart beating steadily through her jacket. A rush of relief filled his body.

  “Rafik,” she mumbled. “You came. I knew you would.”

  “Of course I would,” he said, pressing her close to him. “What happened?”

  “My ankle. I fell. I can’t walk.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll carry you.” He shifted her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he plowed forward. It wasn’t easy to make his way through the drifting sand, but at least he had the wind at his back this time. She buried her face in his sweater and didn’t say a word.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Cold,” she said. He held her even tighter. She wasn’t heavy, it was his legs that felt too heavy to lift them up and take step after step. His heart was pounding from the effort. He wanted to sit down and rest, but he was afraid she might be suffering from hypothermia, and he had to get her back.

  After an eternity, when his legs felt like lead and he thought he couldn’t make them move forward another step, and his arms were numb, he saw the lights from the cottages of the conference center.

  “We’re back. We made it,” he told her.

  She murmured something incoherent.

  He turned up the path and headed for his cabin. Still holding her with one arm, he extracted his key from his pocket and shoved the door open. He set her on the bed and collapsed next to her. Suddenly he remembered that night at the hotel. He remembered trying to wake her up, undressing her, sleeping next to her. He was enormously relieved when she sat up on the bed and sighed loudly.