Olivia Gates - To Touch a Sheikh

She was getting down from the horse when she saw his eyes flood with a somberness she’d never seen there before.

It shook her to see into the depths she knew he kept hidden beneath his irreverence and indifference.

Before she could probe, he turned away, went to the edge of the towering dune overlooking the whole area.

She followed him on shaky legs, every wobbling step melting the fraught moment away. The view mesmerized her, a landscape that had been molded by the elements in the crucible of time, powdering mountains into frozen-in-turbulence oceans of gold dust.

“Wow,” she breathed in wonder. “I’ve seen almost nothing but desert vistas since coming to the region. But this beats them all hands down. How did you discover this place?”

“It’s called exploring.”

She smiled at his chiseled profile. “What a novel concept! Would you take me next time you’re scouting new territories?”

He turned his eyes sideways to her, looked down the ten inches between them, his lips twisting. “I don’t do luxury tours. What you see today is for swooning princes’ benefit. When I go out on my own, I don’t lug mock palaces with me.”

“You’re talking to the girl who spent her first twelve years camping in temperatures in the minus, who picked her own food and washed her one change of clothes in freezing streams. I lived out of a backpack for months when I went back to the States, too.”

Another enigmatic layer painted his eyes before he shrugged. “We’ll see how you fare on this mini-excursion before we talk big treks.”

Her heart pirouetted in her chest.

He was not turning her down flat.

Next moment, her heart slowed its spin, wobbled as a sound she’d never heard … felt before, yawned from nonexistence into her ears, through her marrow.

She swung around … and her heart crashed.

On the horizon, a … a … a mountain was charging their way.

It looked like what she imagined a nuclear shockwave would look like. A tidal wave of roiling, pulverized earth.

At the rate it was advancing, it would reach them—bury them—in minutes.

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