“No!” she said, pushing away and walking back to the kitchen. She wanted water, and a clear head. She loved Alexander. He was barely gone a year and she was caught up in the sensuousness of another man. How loyal was that? How could she have responded so strongly. Good grief, he’d probably think she was some sex-starved widow out to snare the first man who came along.
How could she have kissed him?
She took a long drink of water, her mind warring with her body. The kiss had been fantastic. Every cell in her tingled with awareness and yearning. She wanted more.
“No!” she said again. She had her life just as she wanted it. She did not need to become the slightest bit involved with a man who wanted her to leave so he could sell a family home.
On the other hand, maybe she should do just that. Put an end to time with Khalid by moving away.
She went to her bedroom and dressed for bed, thoughts jumbled as she brushed her teeth. She had a good place here, safe and perfect for making new pieces of art. She wasn’t going anywhere. She just had to wait a little while; he’d get tired of being here and be off on some other oil field consultation and she’d be left alone. She just had to hold out until then. No more night walks. No more kisses.
Though as she fell asleep, she brushed her lips with her fingertips, remembering their first kiss.
The next morning Ella went to her studio, ready to work. She had to focus on her plans for the future and forget a kiss that threatened to turn her world upside down.
Easier said than done. Her dreams last night had been positively erotic. Her first thought this morning was that kiss. And now she was growing warm merely thinking about Khalid and his talented mouth. Why had he showed up? Why not go consult at some oil field and leave her in peace.
Try as she might, as the morning wore on, she couldn’t get last night off her mind. Finally putting a small dish into the annealer to cool down, she decided to go see Khalid and make sure he knew she was not interested in getting involved.
She cleaned up, had a light lunch and then went to broach him at his home.
When she rang the bell, Jalilah opened the door, looking flustered. “Come in, things are hectic. His Excellency is leaving in a few minutes.”
“Leaving?” This was perfect. He was leaving even earlier than she planned. He’d probably been as horrified by their kiss as she had been. He’d leave and if he ever came back, they’d have gotten over whatever awareness shimmered between them and they could resume the tenant-landlord relationship.
“A fire. He and his team are gathering at the airport in an hour.”
Fear shot through Ella. He was going to another fire. For a moment she remembered Alexander, bloodied and burned from the car crash. He’d been coming after her. He hadn’t deserved to die so young. She didn’t like that memory any more than the one that flashed into her mind of Khalid burned beyond recognition. Nothing as unforgiving as flames.
She walked swiftly to the study, where Khalid was speaking on the phone. Entering, she crossed to the desk.
“See you then,” he said, his eyes on her. “Got to go now.”
“You can’t go put out a fire,” she said.
He rose and came around the desk. Lightly brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek, he asked, “Why not. It’s what I do.”
“It’s too dangerous. Don’t you have others who can handle that?”
“Others work with me on these projects. It’s another one at a well Bashiri Oil has down on the southern coast. It blew a few months ago and it’s burning again. Something’s wrong with the pump or operators. Once this is capped, I plan to find out why it keeps igniting.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“A bit. Are you all right? You have circles beneath your eyes.”
She brushed his hand away. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. What if something goes wrong? You don’t have to do this. Send someone else.”
“Something has gone wrong—a well is on fire. My team and I will put it out and do our best to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I have to do this. It’s what I do.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“I like the danger. Besides, what does it matter who does it as long as it gets put out? If not me, another man would be in danger. Maybe one who has a wife and children waiting at home.”
She couldn’t reach him. He would go off and probably get injured again. Or worse.
“Don’t go,” she said, reaching out to clutch his arms. She could feel his strength beneath the material, feel the determination.
“I have to—it’s what I do.”
“Find another job, something safer.”
“Not today,” he said, and leaned over to brush his lips against hers. “Come on, you can walk me out.”
She stepped back, fear rising even more. What if something happened to him? She’d planned to tell him to stay away, but not like this.
When they reached the foyer, she noticed the duffel bags and heavy boots. He lifted them easily and nodded to Jalilah to open the door. A moment later they were stowed into the back of the small sports car. Ella followed him like a puppy, wishing she had the words to stop him. The seconds flew by. She could not slow time, much less stop it. But if she could, she would. Until she could talk him out of this plan. What if something happened to him?
“See you in a few days,” he said easily.
“I hope so,” she replied. But what if she didn’t? What if she never saw him again? The feelings that thought triggered staggered her. She didn’t want to care. That way lay heartache when tragedy struck.
She rounded the car and stood by him as he opened the driver’s door. “Come back safely,” she said, reaching up to kiss him. All thoughts of putting distance between them vanished. She couldn’t let him go off without showing just a hint of what she felt. She would not think of all that could go wrong, but concentrate on all that could go right.
He let go the car door and kissed her back, cupping her face gently in his hands. His lips were warm but in only a moment she felt cold when he pulled away.
“I’ll be back when the job’s done,” he said, climbing into the car. “Stay out of trouble,” he said, and pulled away.
She watched for a moment, then with an ominous sense of foreboding, returned to her cottage. She felt as if she was in a daze. Fear warred with common sense. He knew what he was doing. Granted it was dangerous. But he’d done it before. And he did not have a death wish. He would take all necessary precautions.
Changing into work clothes, she went to the studio. She could always lose herself in art.
But not, it appeared, today. She tried to blow a traditional bowl, but the glass wasn’t cooperating. Or her technique was off. Or it was just a bad day. Or she couldn’t concentrate for thinking of Khalid. Glancing at her watch, she wondered where he was. She should have asked questions, found out where the fire was. How long he thought he’d be gone.
After two hours of trying to get one small project done, she gave up. Her thoughts were too consumed with Khalid. If he’d left the airport an hour ago, he could already be in harm’s way. She paced her small studio, wondering how she could find out information about the fire. She did not have a television. She tried a radio, but the only programs she found were music.
Finally she went to the main house. When the maid answered the door, Ella asked to use the phone. She had done so a couple of times when Madame al Harum had lived here, so Jalilah was used to the request. Ella hoped Khalid had not given instructions to the contrary.
Jalilah showed her into the study and left. Ella stayed in the doorway for a moment. Everything inside instantly reminded her of Khalid. How odd. She’d visited Madame al Harum in this room many more times than she had her grandson. But he’d stamped his impression on the room in her mind forever.
She went to the phone. Who could she call but his brother. She hunted around for the phone number of Bashiri Oil and when she found it on a letterhead, she tried the number. It took her almost ten minutes to get to Rashid’s assistant.
“I’m calling for Sheikh Rashid al Harum,” she said for about the twentieth time.
“Who is calling?”
“Ella Ponti. I’m his brother’s tenant in the house his grandmother once owned,” she repeated.
“One moment, please.”
On hold again, Ella held on to her composure. What would she do if Rashid wasn’t there? Or wouldn’t take her call? She had no idea how to reach Bethanne, who might be an ally.
“Al Harum.” Rashid’s voice came across the line sounding like Khalid’s. She closed her eyes for a second, wishing it were Khalid.
“It’s Ella Ponti. Khalid left this morning to put out a fire. Do you know anything about that?”
“I do. It’s on one of the wells in the southern part of the country. Why?”
“I, uh…” She didn’t know how to answer that. “I wanted to make sure he’s all right,” she said, wondering if Rashid would think her daft to be asking after his brother with such a short acquaintance.
“So far. The team arrived a short time ago. They assess the situation then plan their attack. It could be a day or two before they actually cap it.”
Two days he could be in danger and she wouldn’t know? This was so not the answer she wanted.