Lucy and the Sheikh(37)

With all external thoughts and senses closed down—no sight in the darkness, nothing but the stillness of the desert outside the tent—he knew Lucy only through his body that moved instinctively in and against hers. Together they edged toward that bliss that lay like a flower, furled and waiting, only released into bloom by the communion   of their bodies.





Lucy awoke with a start. She couldn’t think where she was for a moment. Slowly she searched the grey, pre-dawn light that crept in around the flaps of the tent. Then she remembered. She sat bolt upright, her heart thumping; the cold desert air sweeping over her like an icy cloak. Today, she’d see Maia.

The muttered prayers of the men and the smell of smoke from the re-kindled fire drifted into the tent. She lay back onto the soft pillow and turned to where Razeen had lain beside her. There was nothing but an indentation on the pillow. She reached out and touched it, curving the back of her hand where his head had lain. It was still warm. She closed her eyes and remembered the long night of murmured talking, of quiet touching and lovemaking. Somehow, despite her habitual insomnia, she’d fallen asleep in his arms. She hadn’t expected to. But she’d felt so safe, so content. Guilt swept through her. What was she doing sleeping in someone’s arms when her sister could be out there in the cold, needing her?

She leaped up and pulled on her clothes quickly, overlaying them with the abaya, as much for warmth as modesty, and looked outside. Razeen was with the handful of men he’d brought with him. They’d finished their prayers and were busy preparing food. But Lucy didn’t move toward them. She wanted to be on her own.

The sky was completely clear of cloud and stars still littered its inky heights but the faintest blush of red lit the eastern horizon. Even while her stomach was tied in knots with anxiety about her sister, Lucy couldn’t help be aware of the massive silence around her. The early light shimmered in its inexorable creep toward dawn.

She pulled the robes more tightly around her and stepped away from the tent, out further into the blank wilderness that she’d never known to exist. Even when she’d felt at her most isolated, on a small boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, there had always been things to do, people to talk to, the noise and sights and smell of the sea. But here, there was simply nothing. And yet it didn’t feel diminishing, it felt curiously enriching. It wasn’t an empty peace; it was a rich, replete peace.

Slowly she turned a full circle looking up at the night sky that was suddenly shot with vivid fiery red, the flame extinguishing the light of the stars almost at once. Then she turned back to the camp where, through air that lightened with each passing minute, she saw Razeen silently watching her. She smiled briefly, tentatively, although he wouldn’t see her from that distance, just as she couldn’t decipher his expression. But she knew what he was feeling because somehow, he’d seeped under her skin, in the same way the light was penetrating the darkness, just as the silence was finding its hold within her.

She turned to look up at the stars once more but they’d vanished under the fiery glow of the still hidden sun. She turned to Razeen but he was also gone. She didn’t know what was happening with Razeen. But today wasn’t a day to find out. Today was all about Maia.





After a quick breakfast, they were on their way again, bumping across the uneven desert, this time following the other vehicle. The only feature to break the empty expanse was the mountains toward which they were headed.

“I’ve never been anywhere so remote.”

“If you think this is remote, you should visit Qawaran, Zahir’s kingdom. It’s landlocked but with an ancient heritage.”

“This is remote enough, believe me. Do you really think Maia is near here?”

“The city of caves is high up in the mountain ahead. The Bedouin there are cave dwellers.”

Lucy tried to imagine where she was going but failed. She rolled her head around the head rest and surveyed the miles and miles of unvarying landscape. “She can’t be there. It’s just not like her. But if it’s not her, we’ve come to a dead end again.”

“Maybe; maybe not. We won’t know until we get there. If she’s not there, then perhaps someone will be able to tell us where to go next.”

“Perhaps.” With the coming of the daylight Lucy’s confidence had waned. Now it had almost totally disappeared. This wasn’t the kind of place she thought she’d ever find Maia: Maia, who loved fine clothes, sparkling company, a fun time. Despair engulfed her. “No, not ‘maybe’. She’s not here. I’ve taken you from your work on a wild goose chase. I’ve wasted your time. You may as well turn around.”