Page 16 of Veiled Fantasies

Love your accent!Flutter flutter, giggle giggle, maybe a hand reaching out across the table.

Erik pulled his hands to his lap, just in case.

But no. Nothing. Just a sip of her drink, cool liquid rising through the straw to perfectly formed lips. Not the pouty kind, not the over-painted kind. All natural. And apparently quite thirsty. What had she been doing all day?

Obviously, she wasn’t too interested in him. That would make things easier. After all, she’d just waltzed out the room that afternoon without so much as a second look. Maybe the prospect of a shared room made her nervous. Americans were much too reserved when it came to co-ed anything, he knew. God forbid you see a little skin.

The thought of seeing a little of her skin sent an involuntary rush through his veins. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and took a hurried sip of beer. But the foam only teased his lips the way something in him wished she would, and he set it back down with a thump.

What, suddenly he was a teenager again? What was it with this woman?

He pointed to her guide book. “Been out sight-seeing?”

She nodded and he caught a faint flush of triumph creep over her face. What was she all about?

“Have you been to Dubai before?” There she went, doing it again, answering his question with a question.

“A couple of times.” He’d long since lost count of all the places he’d been and how often. That, and he was too distracted to think straight. Must be the jet lag.

“What’s your favorite part of Dubai?” she asked.

His favorite place? The departure gate, the flight home. “I actually haven’t seen much. Too much work.” He shrugged at how pathetic it sounded. But it was hard to get moving after a long business day and a few drinks in the bar. Of course, with a beguiling woman sharing his room, he’d be less likely to make any detours, just to hear more of what she had to say. Who was she? Why was she here? Where was she going?

He stretched his legs and leaned back, trying to concentrate on harmless thoughts. Sightseeing. Dubai.

He had to drag it out of her, bit by bit. The Metro ride had been quiet, clean, and efficient. He could see how that would appeal to her. At Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world, she’d leaned back to see the top until her neck hurt and her eyes burned from the desert sky. The same eyes that sparkled so brightly at the memory. Downtown, Sheikh Zayed Road featured twelve lanes of traffic, acres of construction, and a city block per building. Her hands reinforced the words. This high! That far! So many! She shook her head and extended her legs under the table. “Definitely not a city for walkers!”

Or even runners, he thought, remembering.

Their feet bumped; she jerked hers clear.

The beach was a wide, groomed expanse, and beyond it lay a stunning turquoise sea. He imagined her taking her sandals off and dipping her feet into a whole new body of water. He imagined his feet not far behind, touching the sandy bottom. Was the sea as warm as the air?

Maybe he really had been missing out on something here in Dubai.

He’d been right about her. This woman sucked in impressions with an insatiable hunger. Even more unusually, she observed without making harsh judgments. And in one afternoon, she’d seen more of the emirate than he had in the two or three times he’d been here. She, alone! The hotels and airport were full of stranded passengers, wayward flocks of sheep pulled out of their comfort zones. She was out of her element, too, but still found the nerve to dive straight in.

He wondered what adventures she’d be reporting the next day. And the next, if, God forbid, the volcano was still blowing. And yet he found himself actually looking forward to what she had to say.

Chapter Six

Jill planned to get up and out early the next morning, but somehow, sleep got away from her. She was still groggy when she heard the shower running. Damn. He’d beaten her to it.

The trickling of water lulled her back to a doze. She couldn’t help imagining the water’s path from the shower head to the drain, sliding over his shoulders and chest…his lathered body…his—

My God, woman, get a grip.

She was amazed she’d gotten any sleep after all her tossing and turning, lying right across from a stranger. Hoping she wouldn’t talk in her sleep and let on what she was dreaming. Because what else would she be dreaming about? Especially when wearing his clothes–clothes he’d lent her while hers drip-dried out on the balcony after a hand wash. She’d slept in his clean white undershirt and fresh boxers. Very cute.

Very—

She didn’t dare pursue that thought.

She had no idea what he slept in, because she’d gotten in bed, lights out, head pulled under the sheet long before he stopped tapping the keys of his laptop.

Why so much work? A pressing deadline, or an addiction? And when would he call his wife and kids? Maybe he’d done it when she was out. That must be it.

Dinner with him had been so nice, though she wished she could replay it in slow motion. Give herself more time to think of witty and engaging answers. All she’d done was bore the man out of his mind. Still, it had been fun. At least for her.

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