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Lucy and the Sheikh(29)

By:Diana Fraser


She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“You can’t go on moving forever. There’s nothing that would make you stay.”

Was it a question or a statement? She didn’t know. She shook her head in his arms.

He paused a moment before slipping his arm from under her. He kissed her lightly and rose. “Good. It fits with my plans. I will be busy in two weeks’ time.”

“Two weeks it is then.”

Two weeks, she repeated in her mind, wondering at the confusion of feelings the two words engendered. She didn’t do commitment, she reminded herself. She couldn’t—not after what happened. But, for the first time since she was fifteen she felt vulnerable and it wasn’t a good feeling: like a heavy boot, digging into her gut, reminding her of the pain that lay just below the surface. It was just as well he was a commitment-phobe as she had no intention of releasing the pain of her youth.

“It’ll be daylight soon. We must leave soon. I’ve cancelled most of my appointments, but I’ve a few meetings at the palace I must attend.”

“Sure.” She watched him move around the room, his broad, well-muscled body almost a taupe-grey in the dim light. He had an ease of movement she’d noticed in his people, which must have been inherited from his people: a sure-footedness, a grace, despite his height and powerful build. But she also sensed something else. He’d moved away from her slightly. She swung her legs off the bed and pushed her fingers through her unruly hair. She couldn’t regret their night together. It had been the most magical of her life. He’d made her no promises and she’d told him in no uncertain terms she would be leaving in two weeks. It had been magic but she knew magic couldn’t continue, didn’t she? It wouldn’t be magic if it did.





Lucy had to tell Razeen the real reason she was here. Now she knew him better, now she trusted him and knew he spoke the truth when he said he invited no one here. But for some reason she hesitated. How would he respond to her suspicions?

“We’d better move, Lucy. I’m late. We’ll breakfast at the palace.”

“Sure. I’m ready when you are.” Lucy’s smile was met with a light kiss and a narrowed gaze. “I travel light.”

He slipped his hands around her body and pulled her to him. “We’ll have to stop at the pontoon to collect your bikini on the way.” All thoughts of the confession that hovered on her tongue, fled at the memory of last night. She wasn’t inhibited but the thought of their love-making on the beach brought a blush to her cheeks. She grinned and looked down.

His unshaved cheek brushed roughly against hers, as his lips found hers. “Just the thought of you slipping naked through the water makes me want to postpone my meetings.” He kissed her long and hard. “You’re a bad influence on me, making me forget who I am, what I have to do.”

“Works two ways. I have very important things to do too, you know.”

“Such as?”

Lucy drew in a deep breath. She had to tell him. “Razeen, I—”

The phone rang but Razeen didn’t move. “Go on.”

“I came here for a purpose.”

“Yes, of course you did. Sitra isn’t somewhere one comes to by accident. You wanted to experience a new culture, do a bit of sight seeing. Isn’t that what you said?”

The phone continued to ring, unrelenting and urgent.

“That wasn’t the reason. I was, I am, looking for someone.”

He frowned. “I didn’t think you knew anyone here?” His frown deepened. “A friend, lover? Who?”

The continuous shrill ringing of the phone, together with a change to the tone of his voice—suspicion, jealousy—conspired to constrict her throat. Tension coiled inside her. “None of the above.”

“Good.” His frown faded and he shrugged and walked off to answer the phone.

“Razeen, I must—”

He held up his hand. “One moment, Lucy.”

He spoke rapidly in Arabic before looking up at her. “I won’t be long.”

She sighed, frustrated that her attempt at telling Razeen about Maia had been lost, and wandered off.

The previous evening and night had been so intimate with Razeen—physically and emotionally—she felt she knew him. But she didn’t know him. There was a hint of something in his voice, jealousy or irritation, when she’d said she’d another reason for coming to Sitra that disturbed her. How would he respond to her distrust of him, her suspicions? But she had to tell him because she needed his help. Now that he wasn’t a suspect, she needed to find out what exactly had happened to Maia after the photo had been taken.