The Sheikh's Sinful Seduction(22)

                “I’m sorry, Fern—” Amineh began.

                “Oh, please don’t apologize. You’ve said before how much you miss your husband when he’s traveling or tied up with other things. I’m glad you finally have time together. It’s nice.”

                “It is nice,” Amineh agreed. “Glorious,” she added on a luxuriant sigh as she settled onto her back, mouth curved into a smugly reminiscent smile.

                Her contentment made Fern think that Zafir was probably right about what the couple was doing in their own time. It made Fern long to ask what it was like.

                She was sinfully curious to know what it would be like with Zafir. At night she practically called to him with her body, aching for him to come to her and show her everything he’d hinted at. By day she was tortured with angst, trying to fight her obsession while hoarding the little details the children inadvertently dropped about him, wishing she could find something wrong with him that would turn her off, but he seemed to be everything she admired in a person: honest and fair and smart.

                The worst part was, he’d said the consequences wouldn’t be worth an affair, but all she could think was that she didn’t care. She would never meet another man like him. Making love with him would probably push a self-destruct button on her future, making it impossible for any other man to ever live up to the bar Zafir set, but part of her was willing to take that risk. She knew she would always regret it if she didn’t.

                So irresponsible.

                “I should still be a better friend,” Amineh said. “Especially since you haven’t abandoned me for my brother, which every other female acquaintance has done at one time or another.”

                “I can barely hold my own with Tariq,” Fern muttered, ducking her eyes to her tablet to keep from revealing how quickly she would turn her back on Amineh if Zafir crooked his finger.

                “Ra’id likes that you’re reserved. He had misgivings about bringing a Western woman into our household. He was afraid there’d be...” She lifted her head to glance at the children, checking to see how closely they were listening, but they were debating the position of a flag. “Politics,” she announced with a significant quirk of her mouth. “So don’t wish yourself to be different. We like you exactly as you are.”

                Fern smiled at Amineh, touched. “And that is why you are already a wonderful friend. You make me feel comfortable being who I am. Thank you.”

                Amineh’s compliment was the counterbalance Fern needed to her silly illusions about Zafir. It reinforced that she was better off keeping a low profile and continuing to resist his pull. Her employment and her friend’s respect mattered far more than scratching an itch with a man who couldn’t offer her a future, she reminded herself.

                Mother would be so proud, Fern mentally chided herself sourly.

                An hour later, a male voice said something in Arabic that made Amineh gasp and the girls cry, “Baba! You’re back! Where is Tariq?”

                Fern’s heart took flight as she looked for Zafir, but it was only Ra’id. She missed his response as he answered the girls while kissing their heads. The girls looked toward the trail to where the camels were kept and Ra’id added something about “Uncle” so Fern concluded Zafir and Tariq had hung back.

                “Miss Davenport,” Ra’id greeted with the sparest of acknowledgments before he dropped to sit next to his wife. He set one proprietary hand on Amineh’s hip as he leaned in to kiss her with unapologetic thoroughness.