Mirage (5 page)

A spike of adrenalin almost lifted her off the ground.

“On your bike? In a skirt?” She hadn’t been on a motorcycle in years. It sounded like fun, even if the rider hadn’t been so drop-dead delectable. “But I don’t have a helmet.”

“Neither do I,” he said, walking away from her toward the bike. “Don’t worry. I won’t drop you on your head. And I won’t look up your dress.”

You can look up my dress any time you want, lion man.

Quickly, she said goodbye to Marc and her mother and trotted after Tor, clutching her pashmina around her shoulders.

Tor climbed onto his seat and held out a hand to help her get on behind him. She managed the task with modesty, despite the thrill she felt at his touch. The back seat was soft and comfortable, and gave her just enough room to lean back so she didn’t have to touch any part of his big body. It also afforded enough space for her to slide forward and press herself into him if she wanted to. Or dared to.

She didn’t.

Not yet.

It was exhilarating enough just to be sitting behind him, ready to let him take her anywhere he wanted to go. He started the motor and gently accelerated past Hannah and Marc, who waved.

Once they hit the paved road, Tor increased the bike’s speed. Julie shook her head—the desert air felt so good whipping through her hair. She held onto her shawl as tightly as she could so it wouldn’t go flying off into the night, squeezing her thighs tightly around the seat to hold her skirt in place. And she smiled. This was by far the sexiest ride she’d ever taken.

Man oh man if Richard could see me now. He’d be so jealous.

Tor turned off onto a road that led up to the citadel on top of the hill. Like the ruined city below, its stone walls were lit up by floodlights. The entire structure seemed other-worldly silhouetted against the dark blue night sky.

Julie smiled.
Spectacular.

When they reached the closed entrance gates, Tor pulled to the side of the road and parked. They were the only people around, it seemed. It was perfectly quiet.

He helped her off the bike. “We can’t get in. It’s all locked up. But I wanted you to see the view from up here.”

Julie turned around and saw the breath-taking panorama of Palmyra, the present-day town of commerce built around the ruined city of past splendor.

“It’s beautiful. I had no idea the old city was so large.” She meant what she said, but as she spoke she wanted nothing more than to turn around and look at Tor. He was by far more magnificent than any scenery on earth. “I was in Palmyra last year, but I didn’t come up here. Our guide said it was private property.” She glanced up at him briefly as she spoke. He was standing close to her. She could almost feel his breath on her cheek.

“I’m sure it is. But you don’t see anyone around, do you?” He gave a low laugh. “And besides, we could outrun just about anything on that bike.”

“Do you know anything about this place?” Julie asked.

“Not really.”

“Do you want to know?”

“Uh, sure.”

She turned all history major on him. “Some people call it Palmyra Castle, and some, the Arab Citadel. It was built in the thirteen century by a prince who wanted to control the area. It originally had a moat and a drawbridge. Too bad we can’t see the interior.”

“Do you want me to climb the gate and try open it from the inside?”

Julie laughed, a little shocked at his suggestion. Then she realized he was kidding. “No. No. I’m happy enough out here.”
With you
, she wanted to add.

“Did you learn all this stuff from your guide?”

“No. I study history. I’m in graduate school. And remember, I’ve been here before.”

His tone grew serious. “Did you have the same asshole for a guide last year?”

“Bish? No. We had an older guy. Much better.”

“Where did you find this jerk?”

She turned to look at his profile. His eyes were fastened on the town below.

“My mother hired him in Damascus. He was recommended by someone. I know he’s not the best.”

“How long were you in Damascus?”

“Just overnight. We’re going back the day after tomorrow. For three more nights.”

“Then where?”

“Jordan and Egypt. You?”

“Not sure. Wherever the wind blows, I guess.”

Neither spoke for a few moments, and Julie felt her body fill with tension. She wanted him to touch her, put his arms around her, kiss her. Anything.

But he didn’t move, didn’t even look at her.

Then he said, “I should get you back. I suppose you’ve got a busy day planned for tomorrow.”

“I guess.” She turned to see he was walking toward the bike.

Tor pulled up in front of the Palm Guesthouse but didn’t shut off the motor. Julie could take a hint, and she climbed off the back as gracefully as she could in her skirt, trying not to kick him in the process. She turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something.

She thought he was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, sitting astride his big bike with his windblown hair, shirt sleeves rolled half way up his brown arms. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile. “Thanks for the ride. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Can we get together tomorrow night? My cousin’s not much of a cook. What’s your group doing for dinner?”

Julie gave him a genuine smile, this time. “You’re welcome to join us. I’m not sure where we’re going to eat, but if you come by around seven you’ll find out.”

“Okay. It’s a date,” Tor said over the roar of his engine as he pulled away, leaving a small cloud of dust behind.

It’s a date!

Julie flew up to her room grinning from ear to ear.

At first she was delighted to see that her mother was still out. She was free to mull over the events of the last hour in private. But after thinking about it for a minute, she started to worry.

What the hell is she up to out there in the desert with a strange man? It isn’t like her to behave like that.

After a few minutes of thinking about it, she shrugged her shoulders.

Whatever. Why shouldn’t she have a little fun while she can? Life is short. And when it’s good, we should enjoy it. I certainly intend to.

* * * *

Tor couldn’t believe what he’d just done. He’d had no intention of making a date with Julie. Tomorrow night he was supposed to join John and a few of his buddies for poker and beer. It was their weekly ritual, they’d told him, and Tor thought it would be fun.

Why the hell did I say I wanted to have dinner with the entire Canadian crew instead? And that fucking Bish? Shit! I’m such a fool.

But when he remembered the scent of Julie’s hair, barely perceptible as he stood behind her on the hilltop, he knew why he’d done it. It had taken a supernatural effort to not grab her right there, spin her around and crush her in a deep kiss. But if he had, he knew what would happen next. He’d pull her to the ground, rip off her clothes, and fuck her senseless. Or maybe bend her over the bike. Didn’t matter. He wanted her. Badly.

The only thing that stopped him was that he didn’t know if she felt the same way. She was a cool one. Quieter than he’d expected. Kind of formal. He hadn’t known many Canadians, and he’d assumed she’d be as open as an American. But despite her wanton eyes, she seemed reserved.

His gut told him she didn’t share the surge of animal lust he felt when he looked at her, when he smelled her. When he felt her athletic body climb onto the seat behind him, almost touching him.

But maybe, if I play the gentleman’s card, I can get in there before she leaves town.

A stab of guilt caused him to brake a little harder than necessary as he pulled up in front of John’s house. He’d just remembered Elsa.

When he’d first met Elsa he’d fallen into instant lust. And there was no doubt in his mind that she’d felt the same way about him. They’d come together like the proverbial thunderclap and had been inseparable for the first six months. Then, after they’d moved in together, things had begun to change. Maybe it was all his fault, he sometimes thought. If his ardor hadn’t cooled, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened, and tried so hard to keep him. And if she hadn’t tried so hard to keep him—and change him—maybe he wouldn’t have pulled away like he had.

And, of course, if he hadn’t pulled away, she wouldn’t be in the state she was now…

I don’t know! Women are so damned difficult.

He walked up to John’s door, groaning at the thought of having to fend off the two Norwegian girls who had made their intentions perfectly clear. He didn’t want a threesome with a pair of nympho archaeology students.

The idea would have been wildly appealing to him five or six years ago, but he was past that sort of thing now. Once he fastened his sights on someone, he couldn’t even see anyone else. The half-Danish Canadian girl had all of his attention now. And he was damned well going to have her.

Even if it meant sucking up to the rest of her pack and that asshole, Bish.

Julie raged with impatience as she thought about having to get through one more day in Palmyra before her date with Tor. Bish intended to take the group to the Palmyra Museum for another history lesson, then a buffet lunch at the best tourist hotel in town. The afternoon would be free for shopping or whatever else people wanted to do.

For dinner, he’d made arrangements at a restaurant serving regional specialties. Over breakfast Julie told him there would be one more at the table.

“What do you mean one more?”

“I’ve invited a guest along, Bish. Would you please call the restaurant and tell them there will be fifteen of us. Not fourteen.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. Since she’d brushed him off the night before, he’d practically ignored her. Every time he sent the twins into a laughing fit, he’d throw Julie a sideways glance, but that was the extent of his interest in her now.

“Who have you invited?”

“Does it matter?” She stared him down, and he backed off, muttering under his breath.

In the museum courtyard, a few hours later, Julie spotted a weathered bas-relief carving of a lion propped against the trunk of a palm tree. Regal, with a full mane, he seemed the very symbol of power. She began to snap some photos from different angles, thinking about the man she would be meeting at dinner.
He
had leonine qualities, certainly. Her body began to thrum as she thought about what it had felt like to sit behind him on the bike, the big motor hurling them both through space, its vibrations ricocheting through her body.

Maybe he’ll take me riding again? Maybe he’ll want to look up my dress this time?

She went inside, thinking about what she should wear tonight. There wasn’t much choice in her lone suitcase. Perhaps she should take some time to shop for a new outfit after lunch?

Her plans were distracted by the sound of giggling coming from a back corner of the museum. It was Tina and Tanya, with Bish. He had one hand on each of them, and was telling them something they seemed to find hilarious. Julie frowned, worried that Bish might be even more unprofessional than she’d first thought. It looked as if he was ready to start making out with them right there on a slab of Roman mosaic flooring.

She caught her mother’s eye, and Hannah walked over to Bish and said something close to his ear. Immediately he stood up straight and backed away from the girls, flashing Julie a hard look.

When it was time for lunch, Julie begged off. She wasn’t the least bit hungry, and she certainly didn’t want to pay an inflated price at a fancy resort for food she didn’t want. There were enough nuts, dried fruit and cookies in her room, anyway. Instead of eating, she thought she would go shopping for a new dress.

Most of the shops in town sold either locally produced food—mostly dates—or souvenirs. There wasn’t a lot of choice in clothing shops, but there were a few tourist boutiques scattered along both sides of the main street. Almost the only person foolish enough to be shopping in the heat of the afternoon, Julie checked out every single store until she eventually found a long black rayon sheath dress, sleeveless, with a modestly scooped neck. With some costume jewelry and her paisley pashmina, she knew it would look good. So she bought it. Luckily she’d packed one pair of plain black leather sandals with low heels. Those, and the new dress, were about as sexy as she could get out here in the desert.

As she dipped in and out of little shops looking for something decorative to go with the plain dress, she thought about the local man on the bike who’d tried to sell them his jewelry last night. She was sorry she hadn’t bought something from him. If she saw him again, she would, but he didn’t seem to be around today. Instead, she spotted a necklace she liked in a shop window, and went in.

The proprietor jumped to his feet as soon as she crossed his threshold. “Welcome, lady. Welcome. Please have a seat?” Smiling, he pulled out a low stool and set it beside his own, behind the counter.

“No,
shukran.
I would like to see the red necklace in the window, please.”

He glanced at his wares, spread out haphazardly. “You would like this one?” He touched the necklace, made of large blood-colored stones interspersed with smaller beads made of a dull, grey metal.

“I would like to
see
it, please. What is the price?”

“You have very good taste, lady. It is a special one. Made of Bedouin coral. Very beautiful. Very rare.” He kept smiling, but made no move to show her the necklace.

“You will have a cup of tea?”

“Please, no. I would just like to know the price of the Bedouin coral.”

“You wait here. Sit. Please. I will make tea.”

He walked out of the open door of his shop, leaving Julie alone with the entire contents. She sighed, and sat down. It was no use arguing. Or trying to rush the man. She was probably the first customer he’d had in his shop all day. The streets were almost deserted.

Besides, she knew from experience that shopping in the Middle East was entirely different from shopping in North America. Here, the customer was expected to spend time with the shopkeeper. Sit down, talk, have a drink, talk some more.