Page 44 of Veiled Fantasies

“Still no flights?” Louise’s voice faltered with despair. Each day was an extension of her prison sentence.

“Still no flights!” Jill would sing in reply. The longer she had to figure things out, the better.

Her employer was understanding. He had to be; the man was stuck in the Seychelles himself. Jill was on unpaid leave until the volcano crisis passed.Hopefully soon, her boss had written in his email.

Hopefully never.

She would return to the hotel in the early afternoon, where Erik met her at the door every single time. Nowaitsignal, no sign of booze, and less and less clothing every day. “Where are you taking me today?” he’d ask.

She loved the way he put it.

She wanted to take pictures, lots of them, but was afraid how it would feel to look back on them one day. Just a sweet interlude, a dream? Or the beginning of something rock solid? Instead, she squirreled away mental pictures of herself and Erik on the beach, or of them by the Creek, their favorite place for an evening stroll. The only thing out of bounds were the neighboring emirates and the remote desert, trips that would require a full day. A little too much to ask, because even fantasies had their limits.

But only just. The shower, the balcony. He had practically licked her into thin air. Even on the rooftop after closing hours. Erik simply lifted the plastic chain cordoning off the pool and led her to a hidden niche where only the stars could witness them bond. He seemed to anticipate her every desire, the way he shifted from her ear to her breasts and finally deep inside. Sometimes, just a quiet shag in bed like mere mortals. Their love making was as varied and contradictory as the city around them, where centuries collided and a turquoise sea dozed alongside the dunes.

Maintaining the illusion became the unspoken agreement between them, an increasingly stubborn mindset when the first tentative departures appeared on the airport information boards.

Flights? Home?

Jill chewed her nails at the back of the line, letting hopeful passenger after passenger leapfrog ahead. Her fingers toyed roughly with the flight vouchers in her hand. London, Stockholm, and Manchester, for Louise. Was it all over?

Overhead monitors flashed with images of the volcano, still erupting. She found herself almost cheering it on. Experts debated how much danger the ash posed to aircraft. Grave danger? No danger? Rumors circulated about flights to Sicily and Malta—Mediterranean islands at the periphery of the ash cloud. And at first, it really was just the rumors that were flying, but then the first airplanes bound for southern Europe lined the runway, marring the desert sky with plumes of exhaust.

“That’s still too far from London,” she insisted, back at the hotel.

“Much too far,” Erik agreed, pulling her deeper under the sheets.

Chapter Fifteen

Jill was picking up bad habits, like lounging naked on the bed. She’d never been much of an exhibitionist before, but modesty seemed silly now that he’d explored every inch of her body. It actually felt good, lying there bare. Especially with the window open, letting in the afternoon air, cool enough to bear thanks to the shade of surrounding buildings. A hint of a breeze teased the curtain ever so slightly, a gentle, suggestive flapping that made her want to keep moving, too.

She’d returned from a particularly dusty morning expedition to find Erik in a conference call. Even then, he’d met her at the door with a kiss and a whispered sorry-it’s-dragging-so-long. So she took a quick shower and flopped on the bed, not really succeeding in reading. Her eyes kept drifting to Erik’s face in the mirror over the desk. Him. Her. Them?

Outside, a call to prayer rang out. The undulation was already familiar to her ears. Give her another week and she’d be chanting along. Adding more voices to her ears was the meeting droning on from Erik’s laptop, where a slide show ran on the screen. She smiled to see that she wasn’t the only one whose standards were slipping. Erik was naked, too. She sure hoped the camera on his laptop was turned off.

If it was off, then…she could give him a little kiss of encouragement.

No, she really ought to let him work.

Well, just a quick kiss.

She stood and tickled her fingers slowly through his hair, then tapped his ear with a little kiss. A light one, barely a rub of the cheek. In the periphery of her vision, she saw a single bead of water drop from her hair and trickle down his chest—slowly, smoothly.

He shivered and leaned closer.

Just a quick kiss, she remembered. Let him concentrate on work.

Kiss.

Back to work.

Kiss.

Back to…another kiss.

It was all downhill from there, at least as far as corporate productivity was concerned. And the things that happened next? Jill decided she was not to blame. No, sir! He was the one who reached back and snugged her arms around him. That was his fault. It was all his fault that her hands fell to his thighs and all his fault where they went next. It wasn’t her going all hard, now, was it?

She marveled at her own boldness as she straddled him over the front of the chair. Since when did she jump men like this?

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