His chest felt tight. He looked back to the desert road, feeling slightly panicked. He shouldn't have indulged his base desire like this. He'd already behaved completely out of character by bringing her to Al-Omar in the first place-like some medieval overlord. He should have called the helicopter and got them both back to civilisation. He'd made his point-he'd demonstrated his anger.
But his hands gripped the steering wheel tight and he kept on driving. Because he wasn't ready to call it quits, to let her go. And she'd made a very clear choice to stay, and the triumph he'd felt in that moment still beat in his blood. Why would he turn back now, when they could exorcise this lust between them and get on with their lives?
* * *
'We're here.'
Sylvie opened her eyes and looked out of her window, straightening up in her seat as wonder and awe filled her. Maybe she was still dreaming? Because this was paradise. They were surrounded by lush greenery-greener than anything she'd ever seen before.
Arkim had got out of the Jeep and was opening her door. She got out on wobbly legs, eyes on stalks.
Two big tents were set up nearby-dark and lavishly decorated, with their tops coming to a point in the centre. Smaller tents sat off at a distance, separated from the others by trees. Sand dunes rose up around the camp, almost encircling it on one side, and on the other side was a rocky wall. When Sylvie shaded her eyes to look, she saw the most exquisite natural pool.
She walked over, stunned. The water was so clear she could see right down to the rocks at the bottom. The air was warm and soft-a million miles from the harsh heat she'd experienced since she'd arrived.
She felt Arkim's presence beside her but was afraid to look at him because her emotions were all over the place-especially so soon after waking up. It was as if she was missing a layer of skin.
'This is obviously a very special place,' she finally managed to get out, without sounding too husky.
'Yes, it is. I think it's the most peaceful spot on this earth.'
Sylvie looked at him at last and saw that he was staring down into the water. When he lifted his head and looked at her his gaze was so direct that it took her breath away. It was the most unguarded she'd ever seen him, and she could see so many things in his eyes. But the one that hit her right in the belly was desire.
She had a feeling that whatever lay tangled between them-all the animosity, misjudgement and distrust-it was slipping away and becoming irrelevant. What was relevant was here and now. Just the two of them-a man and a woman.
It was so primal that Sylvie was almost taking a step towards Arkim before she realised that someone was interrupting them, telling him something.
Arkim's gaze slipped from Sylvie's and she held herself rigid, aghast that she'd come so close to revealing herself like that. Was she really so ready to jump into his arms? Even though she'd already tacitly capitulated by coming here?
Sylvie composed herself as Arkim talked to the man, and then he was turning towards her.'Lunch has been prepared for us.'
She welcomed the break in the heightened tension and followed him as he led her to an open area outside the tents, where a table had been set up under a fabric covering held up by four posts. It was rustic, but charming.
The table was low, covered in a deep red silk tablecloth, and there was no cutlery. Arkim indicated a big cushion on one side of the table for Sylvie and she sat down, mesmerised by the mouth-watering array of foods laid out on platters. The smell alone was enough to get her stomach growling.
Arkim settled himself opposite her and handed her a plate with an assortment of food which she surmised she was meant to eat with her hands. Silver finger bowls were set by their plates.
Sylvie experimented with something that looked like a rice ball, closing her eyes in appreciation as warm cheese melted into her mouth. When she opened them again she saw Arkim taking a sip of golden liquid and watching her. There was something very sensual about eating with her hands. And then she looked at Arkim's strong hands and imagined them tracing her body... Heat suffused her face.
'Try your drink-it's a special brew of the region. Not exactly wine, but a relation.'
Sylvie hurriedly took a sip, hoping it might cool her down. It was like nectar-sweet but with a tart finish.'It's delicious.'
Arkim's mouth tipped up.'It's also lethal, so just a few sips is enough.'
She frowned.'I thought people didn't really drink in this part of the world?'
'They don't... But there are nomads from this region who have made a name for themselves with this brew. It's a secret recipe, handed down over hundreds of years and made from rare desert berries.'
Sylvie took another sip and relished the smooth glide of the cold liquid down her throat. She realised that she'd always known what sensuality was in an abstract and intellectual way, and that she could exude it when she wanted to, but she'd never really embodied it herself. She felt as if she embodied it now, though, when this man looked at her. Or touched her.
She put the glass down quickly, shocked at how easily this place was entrancing her. And at how easily Arkim was intriguing her by making her believe that things had somehow shifted. They had...but in essence nothing much had changed. She was who she was, and he was who he was.
When this man set his mind to seduction it was nigh impossible to resist him, and Sylvie had a sense that she was far more vulnerable to him than she even realised herself. She knew it was irrational, because she'd already agreed to come here, but she felt she had to push him back.
She heard herself saying,'Why go to the trouble of bringing me here when we both know this isn't about romance? You say you don't hate me, but what you do feel for me isn't far off that.'
Arkim looked at Sylvie from where he lounged across the table. Her hair glowed so bright it almost hurt to look at. Her skin was like alabaster-like a pearl against the backdrop of this ochre-hued place.
He replied with an honesty he hadn't intended.'You've turned my life upside down. You irritate me and frustrate me...and I want you more than I've ever wanted another woman. What I feel for you is...ambiguous.'
Sylvie looked at him, and this time there was no mistaking the hurt flashing in her eyes. Before Arkim could react she stood up and paced away for a moment, and then she swung round, hair slipping over one shoulder, tunic billowing around her feet.
She crossed her arms.'This was a mistake. I should never have come here with you.'
Arkim cursed his mouth and surged to his feet. Yet again Sylvie was exposing all his most base qualities. He couldn't believe how uncouth he was around this woman. He moved towards her and she took a step back. He controlled his impulse to grab her.
'You're here because you want to be, Sylvie-plain and simple. This isn't about what's happened. This is about us-here and now. Nothing else. I won't dress it up in fancy language. There is a physical honesty between us which I believe has more integrity than any fluctuating and fickle emotions.'
He saw how she paled, but how her pulse stayed hectic. Arkim felt as if he held the most delicate of brightly coloured humming-birds in his palm and it was about to fly away, never to be seen again.
He wanted her full acquiescence-for her to admit she wanted him. It unnerved him how much he wanted that when he hadn't given much consideration to her feelings before now.
Another truth forced its way out.'You were right last night. I don't know you, but I want to. Sit down...finish eating. Please.'
Arkim was tense, waiting. But eventually Sylvie moved jerkily and sat down again. None of her usual grace was evident. She avoided his eyes as he took his seat again and they ate some more, awareness and tension crackling between them like a live wire.
After a minute she wiped her mouth with a napkin and took another sip of her drink. Then she looked at Arkim, her blue-green gaze disturbingly intense.
'So...what was it like growing up in LA?'
Relief that she was engaging stripped away Arkim's guardedness. His inner reaction to her question was a list of words. Brash. Artificial. Excessive. But he said,'I hated it. So much so that I've never been back.'
Sylvie assimilated that, and then said,'I've been to Las Vegas and I hated it there. It's so fake-like a film set.'
A spurt of kinship surprised Arkim.'LA is massive-sprawling. Lots of different areas separated by miles of freeway...no real connection. Everyone is looking for a place in the spotlight-striving to be skinnier, more tanned, more perfect than the next person. There's no soul.'
'They say no one walks in LA.'
Arkim smiled and it felt odd-because he wasn't used to smiling so spontaneously in the presence of anyone, much less a woman.
'That's true. Unless you go somewhere like Santa Monica, and then it's like a catwalk.'