Lucy and the Sheikh(3)
She glanced at him to see an amused gaze looking back at her. She stared straight ahead again, focusing on calming her quickened heart. “Of course. Somewhere ahead, I guess.”
“You guess right.” He pointed ahead of them. “You see where the promontory ends in a pile of rocks? Amongst them is a small sandy cove—it’s in there.”
“What’s in there?”
She caught his gaze and his smile radiated a heat that wrapped around her whole body. “You mustn’t be impatient. All will be revealed shortly. But there are clues already—you’re walking on one.”
“Umm, a mystery. Well, the sand’s definitely warmer here. So…”
“You’ll see.”
He stopped suddenly and Lucy scanned the cliff face that from a distance appeared solid. It was only when she stood immediately before it, she could see that sharply overhanging rocks protruded over a recessed area. As they approached this recess, a twist in the rocks revealed a darkness unlit by the stars or the moon. She glanced at Razeen, suddenly uncertain.
He stopped at the entrance as if sensing her disquiet. “It’s most beautiful at night but you’re welcome to return by day if you prefer.”
A brief argument raged in Lucy’s head: she knew she shouldn’t enter the caves at night with a stranger. Of course she shouldn’t. But when had she ever done anything correctly? She could look after herself. “Now is good. I want to see it at its best.”
“Then take my hand and I’ll lead you.”
She peered ahead. “It’s pitch black in there.”
“I’ve been coming here since I was a boy. I know it inside out. Trust me.”
“I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Including trusting someone.
She offered her hand and he clasped it and drew her after him, inside the narrow passage. They walked for what seemed an age, but must have only been for a few minutes, along a passage that twisted and turned as it penetrated deeper into the rocks. The heat increased, as did a smell that reminded Lucy of her childhood home in New Zealand—sulphur. There was a sharp twist in the path and the space suddenly opened out. They’d arrived.
“Wow…” Lucy exhaled in wonder as she shuffled round in a complete circle, her head lifted to absorb the pulsing light of thousands of glow-worms that clung to the rocks above the large, natural pool. “It’s beautiful.” She went to take a step forward.
“Careful,” he grabbed her arm just as her foot slipped on the flat rocks that surrounded the pool. “The pool is deep.”
The slight movement of his fingers on her arm as they lightly caressed her before he drew his hand away, raised the heat like no thermal spring could do.
“But I have my bikini on.” He glanced at her breasts before meeting her gaze once more.
“You want to go in?”
“If you do.”
“I would have to go in without any clothes and I’m not sure you’d be comfortable with that.” He smiled. “Am I right?”
Comfortable wasn’t the word that immediately sprang to Lucy’s mind. Interested was, intrigued, compelled. She’d never seen eyes like his. They were dark, melting and warm under the blue light of the cave—like chocolate, she thought. She licked her lips, almost feeling the effect of him on her tongue. She should walk out now. She should leave, swim back to the boat. But her body made no movement and the thoughts drifted away under the compulsion of his gaze. She sucked in a deep, steadying breath.
“Yeah. You are right. Let’s just sit for a while. I’ll need to return to the boat soon.” She sat on the stone and sunk her feet into the warm water. “The glow-worms’ lights are fading.”
He sat beside her and put his legs into the water, ignoring the fact he had trousers on. “Because we’re disturbing them. We must speak quietly.”
For a few moments they both looked around, watching as the blue-green lights sparked back into life again. It was a magical place. Steam escaped in tendrils through the cooler air, up above and out of the cave and into the moonlit sky high above them. She moved her feet through the water, watching the phosphorescence shimmer with each movement.
“Local legend has it that a sea monster lives here.” His voice was a low whisper.
“I’m used to sea monsters,” she whispered back. “We have them back home in New Zealand. The Maori call them taniwha. Seems every culture has some figment of their imagination to scare the heck out of them.”
“Not of the imagination here. They are real enough to the people of my country.”
“Yeah, right.”