Page 18 of Veiled Fantasies

“Let us walk you down,” Louise said, gathering the children.

Jill left them in the hotel courtyard with a retired English couple who thought them awfully brave, or possibly just foolhardy, for having ventured out into the streets. Imagine what they’d think if they knew she’d shacked up with a complete stranger. A him, not a her.

Louise hugged her goodbye, squeezing tight. “You’re amazing,” she whispered.

Jill would have laughed if she hadn’t been so surprised to hear those words aimed at her. She exited the building a good inch taller than she’d entered it. Not that she felt comfortable in this strange city, not by a long shot. But hope shimmered on the horizon. Another mirage?

The question occupied her mind as she set off on a long walk that might satisfy her urge to run. She hoped the luggage would be found soon. She hoped her boss wouldn’t dock her remaining vacation time. She hoped…What exactly was she hoping for?

Enough distraction to survive the day, for starters.

Better yet, a fun day.

Best of all, one ending in the arms of Mister Perfect.

She clenched her jaw. It would never happen. He was a loyal family man. And anyway, would she really stoop so low as to lust after a happily hitched family man?

Okay, maybe just a teeny bit. At least in her dreams.

But reality kept picking on wild fantasy. Take Louise, traveling alone because of her husband’s limited vacation time. Even if Jill could concoct a magic potion to make guys like Erik fall for girls like her, then what? Before long, he’d be pulling long hours in the office and calling home about delayed flights; another Roger, just in nicer packaging. She’d be vacationing alone, stuck in nameless, soulless cities, watching the clock tick.

On the other hand, she’d also seen Louise nuzzle her son’s face. Watching them stirred something so palpable that Jill had to steady herself with a deep breath. Would she ever feel a touch like that?

Hormones. A woman’s worst enemy. Jill tugged down her new sun hat and picked up her pace. Places to go, people to see.

Well, places to go, at least. Starting with the historic district. Surely not all of Dubai was concrete, steel, and less than a decade old.

Half an hour of walking proved that it wasn’t. Jill reached a paved square surrounded by three-story adobe structures that reminded her of cliff dwellings relocated to the flat desert. She ambled one gem of an alley after another, marveling at the intricate windows and the long shades. Time after time, she turned to an invisible friend to comment on the sights.

Wow, amazing fort!

Hey, look at those wind towers!

Gorgeous, all this adobe!

Look! A camel!

But she was alone, and the friend imaginary, unless you counted the camel, and even he looked a bit glum. The lonely pang reminded her of so many other vacations, taken alone for lack of a good travel partner or lack of a good man.

She snapped a few pictures, riding waves of emotion—the crests of elation, the troughs of despair. She was tired of it or maybe just plain tired. In any case, it was time to head back.

Her thoughts were ahead of her feet as they scuffed from the scrappy shade of one sidewalk palm to the next. What was Erik doing? Maybe he stayed in the towel all day.

New purpose in her step, she picked up the pace.

* * *

Work had been dragging. Erik struggled to keep his eyes on the screen. A blizzard of numbers, a hailstorm of urgent emails. Maybe his difficulty in focusing had something to do with the hard-on he woke up with. The one he showered away before she could notice.

For a guy who just wanted to be left alone and work, he was doing a great job of creating distractions for himself, starting with inviting a woman to share his room. A very interesting woman who sported very long, lean legs. She had a nice way about her that he could neither pin down, nor shake out of his mind.

He glanced in the mirror facing him over the desk to scan the room. It was just another empty room in another empty city, except when she was there. He wished he could look up and find Jill there now. Sitting, reading, and filling the void with her yellow flowers—a whole garden of them, swaying in the wind.

He caught his face in the mirror and grimaced. What the hell was wrong with him? His brother was the flirt, the one who courted danger. Erik was supposed to be the responsible one. The serious one. Sure, he’d invited women to hotel rooms before, but for one night only, and for one reason only. Usually on the eve of his own check-out, so they couldn’t get any ideas.

This was completely different.

First of all, she was not that type.

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