Desert Fantasies(62)
The late-afternoon sun was hot. She debated taking a quick swim, but reconsidered. She wanted to walk along the beach tonight to see if the stranger returned. For the first time in over a year, she was curious about something—someone. Not many people shared her love of the night. Did he? Or had last night been only an aberration because of his long trip? Where in the desert had he been? She’d like to visit an oasis or drive a few hours into the desert, lose sight of any signs of man and just relish the solitude and stark beauty that would surround her.
She needed a car for that. Sighing softly, she considered renting a vehicle for such an expedition. Maybe one day in the fall.
Ella could scarcely wait until midnight. Very unusual, her impatience to see if the man was there again. For a year she’d felt like she was wrapped in plastic, seeing, but not really connected with the rest of the world. Yet a chance encounter in the dark had ignited her curiosity. She knew nothing about him, except he liked the sea and wasn’t afraid to swim after dark. Was he old or young? Did he live nearby or was he sneaking through the estates to gain access to the private beach?
Would he be there tonight?
Promptly at the stroke of twelve, Ella left her home to walk quickly through the path to the beach. Quickly scanning from left to right, she felt a bump of disappointment. He was not there. Sighing softly for her foolishness, she walked to the water’s edge and turned to retrace last night’s steps.
“I wondered if you would appear,” the familiar voice said behind her. She turned and saw him walking swiftly toward her. His longer legs cut the distance in a short time. No robes tonight, just dark trousers and a white shirt.
“I often walk at midnight,” she said, not wishing him to suspect she’d come tonight especially to see if he were here.
“As do I, but mainly due to the heat of the day.”
“And because you don’t sleep?” she asked.
He fell into step with her.
“That can be a problem,” he said. “For you, too?”
“Sometimes.” Now that he was here, she felt awkward and shy. Her heart beat a bit faster and she wondered at the exhilaration that swept through her. “Did you catch up on your sleep after your trip?”
“Got a few hours in.”
“Holidays are meant for sleeping in late and lazing around,” she said, trying to figure out exactly how to ask questions that wouldn’t sound as if she were prying.
“If I were on holiday, which I’m not, I still require little sleep.”
“Oh, from what you said…” She closed her mouth.
“I did come off a job at an oil field west of here. But I’m here on business. Personal business, I guess you’d say.”
“Oh.” What kind of business? How long would it take? Would she see him again after tonight? Not that she could see him exactly. But it was nice to share the walk with someone, if only for one night.
“I have some thinking to do and a decision to make,” he added a moment later.
“Mmm.” She splashed through the water. There was a slight breeze tonight from the sea which made the air seem cooler than normal. It felt refreshing after the heat of her workshop.
“You speak Arabic, but you’re not from here, are you?” he asked.
She looked up and shook her head. Not that he could likely see the gesture. “I’ve studied for years, I can understand it well. Do I not speak it well?”
“Yes, but there is still a slight accent. Where are you from?”
“Italy. But not for a while. I live here now.”
“With family?”
She hesitated. Once again safety concerns reared up. “Do you think I need a chaperone?” she asked, shying away from his question.
“I have no idea. How old are you?”
“Old enough.” She stopped and turned, looking up at him, wishing she could see him clearly. “I am a widow. I am long past the stage of needing someone to watch out for me.”
“You don’t sound old enough to be a widow.”
“Sometimes I feel a hundred years old.” No one should lose her husband when only twenty-eight. But, as she had been told before, life was not always fair.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said softly.
She began walking again, not wanting to remember. She tried to concentrate on each foot stepping on the wet sand. Listen to the sea to her right which kissed the shore with wavelets. Feel the energy radiating from the man beside her. So now he’d think she was an older woman, widowed and alone. How old was he? She had no idea, but he sounded like a dynamic man in his prime.
“Thank you.” She never knew how to respond to the comment. He hadn’t known her husband. He hadn’t loved him as she had. No one would ever feel the loss as she did. Still, it was nice he made the comment. Had he ever lost a loved one?
They walked in silence for a few moments. Then she asked, “So what did you do at the oil field?”
“I consult on the pumps and rigs. My company has a retainer with Bashiri Oil among others to assist when new fields are discovered. And to put out fires when they erupt.”
“You put out oil fires?” She was astonished. She had seen the pictures of oil wells burning. Flames shot a hundred feet or more in the air. The intense heat melted and twisted metal even yards from the fire. She found it hard to work with the heat in her own studio with appropriate protective gear. How could anyone extinguish an oil well fire? “Is there any job more dangerous on earth?”
He laughed softly. “I imagine there are. It’s tricky sometimes, but someone has to do it.”
“And how did you get interested in putting out conflagrations? Wasn’t being a regular fireman enough?”
“I’m fascinated by the entire process of oil extraction. From discovering reserves, to drilling and capping. And part of the entire scenario is the possibility of fire. Most are accidents. Some are deliberately set. But the important thing is to get them extinguished as quickly as possible. That’s why we do consultation work with new sites and review existing sites for safety measures. Anything to keep a well from catching fire is a good thing. It’s an interest I’ve always had. And since I could choose my profession, I chose this one.”
“I just can’t imagine. Isn’t it hot? Actually it must be exceedingly hot. Is there a word beyond hot?”
He laughed again. She liked the sound of it. She smiled in reaction, not at all miffed that he was laughing at her questions.
“Oh, it’s hot. Even with the special suits we wear.”
He explained briefly how they dealt with fire.
Ella listened, fascinated in a horrified way. “You could get killed doing that,” she exclaimed at one point.
“Haven’t yet,” he said.
She detected the subtle difference in his voice. He was no longer laughing. Had someone been injured or killed fighting one of those fires? Probably. The entire process sounded extremely dangerous.
“They don’t erupt often,” he said.
“I hope there is never another oil fire in the world,” she said fervently. “No wonder you wanted to go swimming last night. I’d want to live in the sea if I ever survived one of those.”
“That is an appeal. But I’d get restless staying here all the time. Something always draws me back to the oil fields. A need to keep the rigs safe. And a sense of need to return burning wells to productivity. Duty, passion. I’m not totally sure myself.”
“So it’s the kind of thing you’d do even if you didn’t need to work?”
He laughed again. “Exactly.”
She stopped. “This is as far as I usually go,” she said.
“Ben al Saliqi lives here, or he used to,” Khalid said, turning slowly to see the house from the beach. Only the peaks of the roof were visible above the trees that lined the estate, a soft glow from the lamps in the windows illuminating the garden.
“How do you know that?” she asked. There was hardly any identifying features in the dark.
He turned back to her. “I spent many summers here. At my grandmother’s house,” he said. “I know every family on the beach—except yours.”
“Ohmygod, you’re one of the al Harum men, aren’t you? I’m your tenant, Ella Ponti.”
CHAPTER TWO
“MY TENANT?” Khalid said.
“I rent the guesthouse on your grandmother’s estate. She was my patron—or something. I miss her so much. I’m so sorry she died.”
“She rented out the guesthouse? I had no idea.”
“I have a lease. You can check it. She insisted on drawing one up. Said it would be better for us both to get the business part out of the way and enjoy each other’s company. She was wonderful. I’m so sorry she died when she did. I miss her.”
“I miss her, as well. I didn’t know about this,” Khalid said.
“Well, I don’t know why you don’t. Haven’t you been running the estate? I mean, the gardener comes every week, the maids at the house keep it clean and ready.”
“This is the first I’ve visited since her death. The servants know how to do their job. They don’t need an overseer on site.”
“It’s the first visit in a long while. You didn’t visit her the last few months she lived here. She talked about her grandsons. Which are you, Rashid or Khalid?”