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Master of the Desert(11)

By:Susan Stephens


'You must wait,' he told her in a stern voice.

'I can't-' Her voice wavered.

'Tuesday,' he instructed sharply. 'You will wait.'

She held his gaze, and then he smiled at her as if he was pleased with  her. She found his voice hypnotic and seductive, while his eyes carried  the promise of pleasure and the certainty of danger. She exhaled shakily  as he pressed her down into the cushions, and he held her there with  little more than a compelling stare. She moaned in complaint when he  held himself aloof, while all she could do was writhe helplessly in time  to the insistent beat between her legs. 'I need … '

'I know what you need,' Saif assured her, taking fierce possession of her mouth.

Sensation surged through her. She pressed against him, feeling stronger  than she had ever felt. Saif's desire empowered her, just as his planned  delays infuriated her. Striking his back in frustration, she wondered  how long she was supposed to wait. Her body was ready; he knew this and  still he tormented her. But, as he kissed her, something happened. He  kissed away the image of an experienced man and a much younger girl and  replaced it with two lovers of equal standing, so that now there was  only a man and a woman, and a desert moon shining over them like a  beacon in the watchful sky.

He had awoken a whirlwind. He would never have believed it of the girl,  though he should have known from the moment she boarded his boat that  she was wilful, strong, and courageous in all areas-and that their first  encounter had only hinted at the fires beneath. When it came to sex,  she had stated her needs in the bluntest of language, and appeared  utterly without self-consciousness. She had even tried to take hold of  him, and, finding her tiny hand would barely encompass half of him, she  had exclaimed with impatience and angled herself hungrily-and this  before the last of the exquisite tremors had had a chance to subside  after her first bout of pleasure at his hands.

Cupping her chin, he made her look at him so he could be sure she knew  what she was doing. Her eyes were still misty with desire and with  passion, just as he had imagined them, but there was purpose there too.  She had discovered physical love and was elemental in her need. Suddenly  struck by a spear of jealousy, he demanded,

'Would you do this with any other man?'

'Are you mad?' she demanded fiercely. 'There could only ever be you.'

For her sake, he hoped that wasn't true.

A cry of triumph escaped Antonia's throat as Saif moved over her. This  time he would take her. This time he would make her his. She had waited  for this all her life, Antonia realised-this man, this moment. Whether  Saif would admit it or not, he was part of her life now.

For a single night.

Could one night last a lifetime? It might have to, she accepted, seizing  hold of his buttocks with fingers turned to steel. She drew her knees  up and, with all the power of her sex, she urged him on.

Saif plundered her mouth while she sucked greedily on his tongue. He  tasted ocean-fresh, pure, clean and strong, and with that all the spices  of the east combined to seduce her senses. Every part of her was  pressed against him and every part of her was keenly aware of him. That  lovemaking came naturally to her was a revelation, and, feeling as safe  as she did with Saif, made it perfect. She felt truly free for the first  time in her life; free to be herself. There was only one jarring chord,  which was the certainty that this level of harmony could only exist  with one man.

He sank into hot, moist velvet. He was so much bigger than she was, he  had intended to take it slowly, but she claimed him greedily, using her  strong, young muscles to draw him in. He brushed her mouth and tasted  her shock at this new sensation, and tasted her approval moments later.  Withdrawing slowly, he plunged deeper still, while she sobbed her  pleasure against his chest. 'More? You want more?' he prompted.                       
       
           



       

Her fingers closed around his buttocks. 'I want it all,' she assured him huskily.

Holding her wrists in a loose grip above her head, resting on the cushions, he made sure that was exactly what she got.

They made love all night and only drifted off to sleep in the quiet  hours before dawn. She woke in time to see the waters of the Gulf  glistening like a glass plate, with lilac fingers of light the only  decoration. The waves were still, and seemed as content as she was,  lying snug in Saif's arms to wait for the start of a new day.

But she wasn't content, because today everything must change, Antonia  remembered. Today Saif might ask her name again and she must lie to him.  She trusted him to take her back to the mainland, but when they arrived  they would go their separate ways. Last night wasn't real, last night  was a fantasy. They didn't know each other's names, jobs, lives, or even  where they were from; they had no future, and there would be no  togetherness ever again. The pain she felt at the thought of it was  acute, the irony unbearable. If this was normal life, they wouldn't be  facing the end, but the beginning; a beginning that might even lead to  love. But as it was …

She could so easily fall in love with Saif, Antonia acknowledged, taking  care not to wake him as she stirred, but loving each other wasn't an  option for them. She still had a job to do-a job she was determined to  finish, and to finish well. She couldn't settle for giving up now and  going home. If anything, meeting Saif had only inspired her to do more,  to achieve more.

'You're awake,' he said, shifting his powerful frame in lazy contentment.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you.' Or to do anything to hasten the day, Antonia thought wistfully.

'I want to be disturbed,' Saif assured her, drawing her close.

She shivered with desire at his touch and didn't have the heart to bring  what must end soon to an abrupt finish now. 'You're dressed?' she said,  tracing the lines of the top he must have tugged on some time during  the night. He was wearing shorts too, she noticed.

'I had to go and check on the progress of the search,' he reminded her.

'Of course.' She relaxed. But even as they entered into this most normal  of conversations she knew the spell was broken. The look in Saif's eyes  had changed. He was already thinking about bringing the pirates to  justice, which required a speedy return to the mainland.

He confirmed it, springing up and shrugging his massive shoulders. 'No  time to waste,' he said, staring out to sea as if to assess the weather.  'Things look good.'

She had been expecting this, Antonia told herself firmly, but it didn't  make the pain go away. It hurt to know the magic had vanished, only to  be replaced by the cold chill of unease-something she must shake off  when she had promised to help Saif in every way she could. 'I'll go  below to freshen up and dress.'

She wondered if he even heard her as he began the process of preparing the yacht to sail.

Saif sailed with the total mastery with which he did everything else,  and it would have been a pleasure watching him at the helm had Antonia  not been dogged by the same dragging sense of dread. Of course things  could never be the same again between them; she knew that. And of course  she accepted the fact that everything must change when they reached the  mainland. But the cloud hanging over her refused to budge. It was as if  the same fate that had engineered their meeting now decreed that she  must suffer for it.

She had been tested quite a few times on this trip and come through, she reasoned in an attempt to reassure herself.

But who knew if she could do it again?

Antonia looked at Saif, who obviously didn't share her concern. If  anything, he seemed to have gained new purpose. It was as if with every  nautical mile they travelled he was slowly changing back into the man he  must really be.

They shared the rhythm of the sea beneath their feet and little else  now, Antonia reflected. He didn't need her help to sail the yacht, he'd  told her, and so she was consigned to the role of passenger, a chance  acquaintance who was being given a lift to port on a fabulous  racing-yacht. 'Is that Sinnebar?' she said excitedly, catching sight of a  coastline. She already knew it was. What she'd really wanted when she  asked the question was for Saif to connect with her one last time.                       
       
           



       

'Yes,' he said briefly, but his focus was all on the coast.

They had sailed past the lighthouse guarding the entrance to the harbour  before Saif spoke to her again. 'You'll have to get changed,' he said.  'And clean yourself up.'

In a phrase, Saif had turned her back into a much younger girl who  needed his direction. 'You can use the hose to get rid of the salt,' he  went on. 'And you'll find some robes under the bunk below. They'll be  too big for you,' he added as he swung the wheel hard to line the giant  yacht up with its berth, 'But you can't disembark in Sinnebar dressed  like that.'