Phoebe agreed and hung up. Then she returned her attention to her reflection. Tonight she would look like the best possible version of herself. Would it be enough?
Phoebe arrived first at the restaurant. Mazin had called at the last minute, telling her that he was delayed with a small matter of work. He had sent a car to collect her and had promised to join her by seven.
She was shown to a private table upstairs. Carved screens kept the curious from knowing who sat there, while allowing her a perfect view of the stage. A cluster of musicians sat on one side of the room playing for the diners. Candlelight twinkled from every table.
The waiter lingered for several minutes, talking and staring until Phoebe realized he thought she was attractive. She'd never captured a man's attention before, and while the appreciative gleam in the young man's eyes flattered her, there was only one opinion that mattered.
The waiter disappeared for a few minutes, then returned with champagne. He poured her a glass. When he would have lingered longer, she told him she would be fine by herself. Obviously disappointed by the dismissal, he left.
Phoebe sipped the bubbly liquid. To think that after nearly three short weeks on the island a young man had actually noticed her. Much of it was the dress and the makeover, she thought, knowing she had never looked better. But she suspected there was some other reason. She was a different person than she had been when she arrived on the island.
Being with Mazin had changed her.
She leaned back in her chair. Except for the occasional afternoon when he'd had to return to work or his family, Mazin had spent most of his days with her. They had talked about everything from history to books to movies to her youth to her plans when she returned to Florida. They had shared sunsets, meals, laughter and he had been more than kind the few times she had given in to tears. They had been to every place on Ayanna's list. Every place but one. Lucia's Point.
Phoebe took a deep breath to calm her suddenly frantic nerves. She had little time left on the island, and then she would return to her small, solitary world. She knew that being with Mazin was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but when she was home things would go on as before. She would attend college and get her degree in nursing. Perhaps she would do better at making friends, perhaps she might even meet a young man. But there, no one would ever be as much a part of her as Mazin. Wherever she went and whatever she did, he would be with her.
She knew that their time together hadn't meant the same thing to him as it did to her, and she could accept that. But she liked to think that she mattered a little. He had indicated that he found her attractive, that he enjoyed kissing her. So she had to ask.
Maybe he would laugh. Maybe he would be embarrassed and try to refuse her gently. Perhaps she had completely misunderstood his interest. But regardless of the many possibilities for rejection, she would not have regrets.
Voices in the hallway distracted her. She turned and saw Mazin slipping between the screens. He was as tall and handsome as ever. The black tuxedo he wore only emphasized his good looks. She rose to her feet and approached him. His smile turned from pleased to appreciative, and their kiss of greeting seemed as natural as breathing.
"I see you are wearing the dress I sent you. I trust you will not punish me for my boldness."
His teasing made her smile. In that moment her heart tightened in her chest, giving her a little tug. Phoebe had the sudden realization that she was in more danger than she had thought. Had she already fallen in love with Mazin?
Before she could consider the question, the pace of the music increased. Several young women took to the stage and began to dance. Phoebe and Mazin were seated and the waiter appeared with their first course.
Something about the rapid movement of the dancers captured Phoebe's attention. Part of it might have been that it was safer to look at them than gaze at Mazin. Apprehension made it impossible for her to eat.
"Some dances are for entertainment," he said, leaning close to be heard. She could inhale the masculine fragrance of him, and the appealing scent made her tremble. "Some tell a story. This is the journey of the nomads in their search for water. The life-giving force is essential."
He continued talking, but she couldn't listen to anything but the thundering of her heart. Could she do this? Could she not? Would she rather ask and know, or would she rather wonder? Hadn't Ayanna made her promise not to have regrets?
"You have yet to touch your food, and I suspect you are not listening to me."
She turned to him. The beat of the music seemed to thunder in her blood.
She studied his face, the way his dark hair had been brushed back from his forehead, the strong cut of his cheekbones, the faint bow in his top lip.
He touched her face with his knuckles. "Tell me, Phoebe. I can see the questions in your eyes, and something that looks like fear. Yet you need not fear anything from me. Surely we have spent enough hours together for you to know that."
"I do know," she whispered, unable to look away from his compelling gaze. "It's just … " She drew in a breath. "You have been more than kind to me. I want you to know that I appreciate all you've done."
He smiled. "Do not thank me too heartily. Kindness was not my motivation. I'm far too selfish a man for that."
"I don't believe that. Nor do I understand what you see in me. I'm young and inexperienced. But you've made everything about my time here really wonderful. So it seems wrong to ask for one more thing."
"Ask me for anything. I suspect I will find it difficult to refuse you."
He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. She shivered. The contact made her want so much, and it also, along with his words, gave her courage.
"Mazin, would you take me to Lucia's Point tomorrow?"
His dark eyes turned unreadable. Not by a flicker of a lash did he give away what he was thinking. She swallowed.
"I know the custom. That I may only go there with a lover. I don't have one. A lover, I mean. I've never … " Why didn't the man say something? She could feel herself blushing. Words began to fail her. "I thought you might like to stay with me tonight. To change that. To-"
Her throat closed and she had to stop talking. Unable to meet his gaze any longer, she stared at her lap and waited for him to start laughing.
Mazin studied the young woman in front of him. He had always thought of her as a quiet beauty, but tonight she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Some of her transformation came from the dress and makeup, but much of it was the result of a subtle confidence. At last Phoebe didn't doubt herself.
Until she had asked him to be her lover. He read the uncertainty in her posture, the questions in the quiver of her mouth. He knew she was unaware of how much he desired her, nor would she understand the iron control it had taken for him to keep his distance. Even as they sat there, his arousal pulsed painfully. If she had any experience, she would not question her appeal. But she did not possess that kind of worldliness.
He supposed a better man would find a way to refuse her gently. He knew he was the wrong person to take the precious gift she offered. For the first time in his life, he did not feel worthy.
Yet he could not find it in his heart to walk away. He had wanted her for too long. The need inside him burned. To be her first, to hold her and touch her and make her his own-no one had ever offered him more.
"My dove," he murmured, leaning close.
She raised her head, her eyes brimming with tears. Doubt clouded her pretty features. He brushed away a few tears that spilled over, then kissed her mouth.
"I have ached for you from the moment I first saw you," he said, speaking the absolute truth. "If I do not have you, a part of me will cease to exist."
Her mouth curved into a smile. "Is that a yes?"
He laughed. "It is."
There would be consequences. To make love with a mature woman of experience was one thing-to take a virgin to his bed was another. Honor was at stake. Perhaps in this modern time there were those who took such things lightly, but not him. Not with Phoebe.
He wondered what she would say if he told her the truth. Would she still want him in her bed? His conscience battled briefly with the notion of telling her. But he needed her too much to risk it.
He shifted so he could speak directly into her ear.
"Tell me of your appetites," he murmured. "Would you like to stay for the rest of the meal and watch the dancers? Lingering will increase the anticipation. Or do you prefer to adjourn now?"
"I don't want to wait."
Her simple words sent a bolt of desire through him. His arousal ached. Tonight would be both endless torture and ultimate pleasure. He was determined to show her all the possibilities and make her first time as perfect as possible. Assuming his need did not kill him first.
Seven
They left the restaurant immediately. Phoebe tried not to be scared as they stood waiting for Mazin's car. But instead of his usual Mercedes, a black limo pulled up.