Remembered delight lasted only an instant before his whole frame went rigid. "Jesus Christ, Juliet!" Ross exploded, knocking her hand away. "This is a hell of a time to play idiotic games."
Shocked back to the present and horrified at what she'd done, Juliet gave a strangled gasp. Mindlessly, wanting only to escape, she shoved herself away from him, tore the mantle from her face, and tried to clamber to her feet. Gritty, suffocating sand instantly filled her mouth and nostrils.
As Juliet collapsed, choking, Ross wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled back so that her spine was pressed against the front of his body. Then, with precise angry movements, he drew the mantle over her again and recreated their safe haven.
Juliet was shaking violently, as much from humiliation as from her frantic need for air. Ever since this journey had begun, she had worked to conceal how much she was attracted to her husband. Now her weakness was revealed. She felt more exposed than if she had been stripped naked.
This time it was Ross who held the water bottle to her lips so that she could rinse away the stifling sand. Soon she could breathe again, but still she trembled. The barrier they had so carefully constructed between them, of words unsaid and deeds unadmitted, now lay shattered, a victim of the storm.
Despairingly she said, "I'm sorry, Ross, I didn't mean to do that. I wasn't playing games—it's just that... I couldn't help myself. I know it's wrong and shameless and bloody inconvenient, but even after all these years, I still desire you. Being together day and night has been driving me mad." Her throat closed again and she swallowed hard before finishing in a whisper. "I'm sorry, so sorry."
Even though her back was to him, they were folded so closely together that she could feel his reactions in his body. After a moment of surprise his tautness eased.
"One apology is enough, Juliet. My reaction was out of proportion to what you did, but you surprised the devil out of me at a time when I was trying my damnedest to control the effect you have on me." He wrapped a comforting arm around her waist. "As you noticed, I was having no success. You have also been driving me mad. Embarrassing and, as you said, bloody inconvenient, but there it is."
His calm words made Juliet feel less like a disgraceful idiot. More to herself than to him she said, "Why must it be this way? Why can't a marriage that is over be completely over?"
He sighed. "My mother, who as you may recall knows everything worth knowing about the mysterious ways men and women interact, once told me that the first two years or so of a passionate marriage are the most intense. After that, the raging, uncontrollable fire usually slows to a steadier and more manageable blaze.
"Unfortunately, you left before that happened. We weren't together long enough for the cycle to complete itself and the flames to subside. So even though the rest of the marriage is ancient history, the physical attraction is still alive and well. Now that we're in each other's company again, all that unresolved desire has flared back to life."
"That makes sense." She gave an unsteady chuckle. "I keep thinking of the pillar of fire that guided the Israelites through the wilderness. On this journey, a pillar of fire has been hovering between us, but you dissembled so well that I thought I was the only one affected by it. There is some comfort in knowing that the madness is mutual."
"That it is." His arm tightened around her waist. "You realize that if we share lodgings in Bokhara, we may drive each other well and truly insane."
"The thought has occurred to me," she admitted, "but I feel responsible for you. If not for my brother and mother, you'd be safe in England now. Even though I know there will be nothing I can do to help if the amir condemns you, I still have this irrational need to stay close, to be available just in case."
"And, heaven help me, I feel the same way about you. That I must keep you close because no one else will take as good care of you as I would." His thumb began making slow circles on her midriff.
As tantalizing warmth spiraled through her, he said softly, "We seem to be burdened with both mutual protectiveness and mutual lust. It might be easier for both of us if we do the logical and natural thing about the latter."
The very idea made her melt with longing. To be lovers once again, to give in to desire instead of fighting it—that would be heaven on earth.
Until he went back to England. Leaving Ross once had almost destroyed her; if they recovered their old closeness, she doubted that she would survive losing him again.
"It would be easier only for the moment," she said in a brittle voice. "The effect on the future would be disastrous."