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Desert Fantasies(70)

By:Trish Morey


Rashid and Bethanne headed out, but Khalid remained behind for a moment.

“They only wanted to help,” he said.

“I’m glad they did.”

“But you’re feeling overwhelmed. You set the pace. This is your work, your future. Don’t let anyone roll over you.”

“Good advice. Remember that next time you want your way,” she said, sitting down on her bench, touched he’d picked up on her mild panic and dealt with it. She hadn’t expected such sensitivity from the man.

“You are coming for lunch?”

“Yes. I just need a few minutes to myself.”

“I’ll come back for you if you don’t show up in twenty minutes.”

“Did anyone tell you you’re a bit bossy?” she asked.

“Twenty minutes,” he said, and left.


Ella took less than the twenty minutes. After a quick splash of cool water against her face, she brushed her hair and lay down for ten minutes. Then hurried to the main house. Khalid and the others were on the terrace and she walked straight there without going through the house.

Lunch was delicious and fun. It was a bit of a struggle to remember to speak English during the meal, but she was confident she held her own in the conversation that ranged from Bethanne’s career as a pilot to Rashid’s recent trip to Texas to the reception on Saturday night.

“Are you coming?” Rashid asked his brother at one point.

“Yes,” Khalid said.

Rashid and Bethanne exchanged surprised looks.

“Great.”

“I’m bringing Ella,” Khalid continued.

Both guests turned to stare at her. She smiled brightly. Was this such an amazing thing? Surely Khalid had brought other women to receptions before.

“Condition of using the salon for the pictures,” she murmured.

“Of course,” Rashid said with another quick glance at his fiancée.

“Great. Maybe you could go shopping with me before then,” Bethanne said. “I’m not sure I have anything suitable to wear.”

Ella hesitated. She hadn’t been shopping except for groceries since her husband’s funeral. Dare she go? Surely it would be okay for one afternoon. It wasn’t as if anyone was hanging around the main streets of the city looking for her.

“I don’t know if I would be much help.” She felt Khalid’s gaze on her and glanced his way.

“Help or not, don’t women love to buy beautiful dresses?”

“I don’t need one. I have several,” Ella said.

“Come help me find several,” Bethanne urged.

Rashid watched the interaction and then looked at his brother. He narrowed his eyes when Khalid never looked away from Ella.

“Okay, I’ll go tomorrow afternoon,” Ella said fast, as if afraid she’d change her mind.

When lunch finished, Ella thanked her host and fled for her cottage. She’d had more activity today than any time since Alexander had died. And she’d agreed to go shopping—out along the main district of Alkaahdar. Surely after all this time it would be safe. She had a right to her own life. And to live it on her terms.


That night she debated going for a walk. She was getting too used to them. Enjoying them too much. What happened when Khalid moved on? When he went to another oil field to consult on well equipment, or had to go fight a fire. That thought scared her. He was trained; obviously an expert in the field. He knew what to do. It was dangerous, but as he’d explained, except for that one accident, he’d come through unscathed many times.

But that one could have killed him. Didn’t he realize that? Or another one similar that might rip the helmet and protection totally off. She shivered thinking about it.

She went for her walk, hoping he’d be there. It was better than imaging awful things that could happen.

He sat on the sand near the garden.

“It’s warm,” he said when she appeared, letting some sand drift from his hand.

“Sometimes I sit on the beach in the night, relishing the heat held from the day.”

“Sand makes glass,” he commented.

“Yes. I’ve heard that lightning strikes on beaches produces glass—irregular in shape and not usually functional. I’d like to see some.” She sat beside him. “I like the fact I’ll know your brother and Bethanne at the reception.”

“And me.”

“Yes, and you. We aren’t staying long, right.”

“I said not long. Why are you nervous? You’ve been to university receptions—this would be sort of the same, just a different group of people. You’ll be bored out of your mind with all the talk about oil.”

She smiled at his grumbling. “Is that the normal topic?”

“With a heavy presence of Bashiri executives it usually is. The minister of finance is not in charity with us right now. Rashid closed a deal he didn’t like. But I’m sure a few million for pet projects will sweeten his disposition.”

Ella didn’t want to talk about money or family. She jumped up. “I’m going to walk.”

He rose effortlessly beside her and kept pace.

“Tell me more about the oil fields you’ve been to,” she said, looking for a way to keep her thoughts at bay. She liked listening to Khalid talk. Might as well give him something to talk about.


The next afternoon Ella had a good time shopping. Once inside boutiques, she didn’t glance outside. While in the car she had seen no one that appeared to be paying the two of them any attention. Bethanne was fun to shop with. She looked beautiful in the elegant cool colors that went so well with her blond hair. Twice, salesclerks offered jewel-tone dresses and Bethanne had suggested Ella try them on. Of course the sizes were wrong. Ella was slight, almost petite, not nearly as tall as the American. She was tempted, but conscious of her limited funds, cheerfully refused. She had dresses that would suit. She wasn’t going to spend a week’s worth of groceries on a dress she’d wear for about an hour.

Bethanne decided on a lovely blue that mimicked the color of her eyes.

“Done. Let’s get some coffee. And candied walnuts. They’re my favorites,” she said when she received the dress in a box.

Having the chauffeur stow the dress in the limo’s trunk, Bethanne asked him to take them to an outside café. When they found a coffee house with outside seating on a side street, she had him wait while she and Ella went for coffee.

“This was fun,” Bethanne said. “I hope we can become friends. I will be marrying Rashid in a few months and don’t know but a handful of people in Quishari. And most of them don’t speak English. So until I master this language, I’m left out of conversations.”

“I would like another friend. Tell me about Texas. I’ve never been to the United States.”

“Where have you been that you learned so many different languages? And that’s not even your career, like the professor’s is.”

“I went to school in Switzerland for a few years and in England.”

“And the Arabic?”

“That I learned because Alexander was learning it and planned to come to an Arabian country to work.”

“Alexander was your husband?” Bethanne asked gently.

Ella nodded. “We knew each other from when we were small. I loved him it seems all my life.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Bethanne said.

“Me, too.” Ella didn’t want to think about it. Every time she grew sad and angry. It had happened. Nothing could change the past. She had to go on. Today she was with a new friend. And beginning to look forward to the reception on Saturday.


Ella worked through the next two days culling her collection, deciding which pieces to display and which to hold in reserve.

She tried on the dresses she’d worn to university events, dismayed to find she had lost more weight than she’d thought. They all were loose. Finally she decided on a dark blue long gown that shimmered in the light and almost looked black. If she wore her hair loose, and the pearls she received when she was eighteen, she’d do. It wasn’t as if it were a real date or anything. But she wanted to look nice for Khalid’s sake. If he broke his normal habit of nonattendance, it behooved her to look her best.


Saturday evening, Ella prepared for the reception with care. She had some trepidation about venturing forth into such a large gathering, but felt safe enough since the guests would most likely all be from Quishari. Her hair was longer than she usually wore. The waves gleamed in the light. She hoped she would pass muster as a guest of a sheikh. Her heart tripped faster when she thought of spending the evening with his family and friends. And some of the leaders of the country. She planned to stay right by Khalid’s side and remind him how soon they would leave.

Promptly at seven he knocked on the door of the cottage. She picked up a small purse with her keys and went to greet him.

“You look lovely,” he said when she opened the door.

She thought he looked fantastic. A man should always wear a tux, she decided.

“I could say the same. Wow, you clean up good.”

“Ready?”

“Yes.” She pulled the door shut behind her. To her surprise, Khalid had a small sports car waiting. She had expected a limousine as Rashid used. She liked the smaller car; less intimidating. More intimate.

“If we were going for a spin in the afternoon, I’d put the top down. But not tonight.”