Laura Martin - Under A Desert Moon

Seb frowned. He’d kissed plenty of women before and not a single one had responded with abject horror.

‘It’s all right,’ he said soothingly. ‘No one saw.’

She shook her head as if he didn’t understand.

‘How could I be so stupid?’ she whispered.

Seb kept quiet; he assumed she was talking more to herself now than to him.

Emma took a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she reopened them there was a steely focus about her.

‘That was a mistake, Mr Oakfield,’ Emma said in a tone that invited no argument. ‘I would appreciate it if you would leave. I will make your excuses to the Fitzgeralds.’

Seb knew there was no point arguing. The intimacy they’d shared during the kiss had been shattered, and Emma was not going to allow him another opportunity to relive it.

‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ Seb said quietly, taking her hand in his own and raising it to his lips. He felt a thrill of triumph when she didn’t pull away, but didn’t push his luck any further.

‘Goodbye, Mr Oakfield,’ Emma said with finality.

Chapter Five

Emma hadn’t slept. No, that was a lie; she felt as if she hadn’t slept. She’d lain awake for hours tossing and turning, trying to banish Sebastian Oakfield from her mind. Then when she’d finally fallen into a fitful slumber, she’d dreamt about the annoyingly charming man. This morning she felt frustrated and unrefreshed.

She couldn’t believe she’d let him kiss her. She grimaced and silently corrected herself—she couldn’t believe she had kissed him. There was no point denying that she had been an active participant in the kiss. The worst part was that she’d enjoyed it, and she knew if he’d pulled her into a darkened corner and furthered the embrace she would probably have let him, she’d been so caught up in the moment.

Groaning, Emma buried her face in the pillow. She wished she could erase the past twenty-four hours—then she wouldn’t have ever met Sebastian Oakfield, and she would never have kissed him. Or spent the entire night reliving that kiss.

With an effort Emma threw back the light sheet that covered her bed and crossed over to the window. She looked out over the rooftops of Cairo and her mood lifted slightly. Yes, she might have done the exact thing she’d promised herself she’d never do again last night, but this morning she was waking up in Egypt, the land she’d dreamed about for so long.

Emma rested her elbows on the window sill and watched the hustle and bustle of the street below. Men were pushing carts of produce and women were carrying baskets. She wondered if they were headed to the famous Cairo market. Emma yearned to be down there with them, to follow them through the windy streets and explore this exotic city. Momentarily she wished she were a man. Then she’d be free to wander the streets at her leisure, not waiting for a suitable escort and chaperone to take her to only the appropriate sights for a well-brought-up young lady to see. She wanted adventure and freedom, not to have exchanged the constraints of English society for those of an expatriate in Cairo.

A light tap on the door made Emma spin around and she smiled as the young Egyptian maid called Dalila entered the room.

‘Would you like to get dressed, miss?’ the young woman asked in accented English.

Emma nodded, knowing the hour was already late and she shouldn’t waste any more of the day shut away in her room, ruminating over the events of the previous night.

‘Were you born in Cairo?’ Emma asked Dalila as she slipped the dress over her head.

The young maid nodded. ‘I’ve never left Cairo, miss.’

‘What do you think I should see?’ Emma asked. ‘I know the pyramids and the new Museum of Antiquities, but, as someone who’s grown up in Cairo, where do you think a visitor should go to get the authentic feel of the place?’

Dalila paused for a moment, considering. ‘The market,’ she said eventually. ‘Not the tourist antiquities market, but the real thing. Where we go to buy our food and spices. You’ll see everyone from the poorest beggar to the richest housewife.’

Emma allowed the maid to fasten the back of her dress and cocked her head to one side. She wondered if she could persuade Mrs Fitzgerald to take her to the market. She doubted it, but it was worth a try.

Making her way downstairs, Emma realised the hour was later than she’d first imagined. The Fitzgeralds had both already had breakfast, but the colonel was still sitting at the table, sipping strong, dark coffee.

‘Good morning,’ he said genially.

Emma liked Colonel Fitzgerald, even after knowing him for only a day. He was a kind old man. The previous night he had saved her from embarrassment by rescuing her from Sir Henry’s unwanted advances. And he had offered to introduce her to a guide who would take her into the wilds of Egypt.

‘I’m sorry I slept so late,’ Emma said, sitting down at the table. ‘I must have been tired after the journey.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said with a wave of his hand. ‘You are a guest in our house, you can sleep in until whatever time you like.’

He motioned to a young man who darted from the room and within seconds returned with plates of food balanced on his arms. He set them in front of Emma with a flourish and she inspected each dish in turn.

‘We can have the cook make you something more English if you prefer.’

Emma shook her head. Everything looked delicious; she didn’t know where to start.

‘This here is flat bread, served with a bean, onion and tomato dip. Or if you prefer something sweet, the honey and nut pastries are delicious.’

The Egyptian footman returned with a steaming cup of strong coffee and placed it on the table. Then he melted into the background, allowing Emma to make a start on the feast in front of her.

‘What are your plans for today, my dear?’ Colonel Fitzgerald asked after a few minutes.

Emma took a sip of coffee before speaking.

‘I’m not too sure. Mrs Fitzgerald kindly said she would take me to see the pyramids next week. Possibly the Museum of Antiquities.’

Colonel Fitzgerald nodded in agreement.

‘A very interesting place. However, I was thinking we might take advantage of the fact that Mrs Fitzgerald has a charity meeting arranged, so we could organise for that guide to take you deeper into rural Egypt.’

Emma’s eyes lit up immediately. She could feel her pulse quicken at the prospect of exploring Egypt properly, with just a guide for company, discovering long-abandoned temples and following in the footsteps of the Ancient Egyptians.

‘He might take a bit of persuasion—he can be a stubborn man when he wants to—but I’m sure you’ll be able to convince him to be your guide.’

Emma was imagining a weathered old Egyptian who knew every inch of his country.

‘And if that doesn’t work, you can remind him he owes you his life.’

Emma frowned. She opened her mouth to question Colonel Fitzgerald then promptly closed it again. Sebastian. He was talking about Sebastian Oakfield. The man who had rendered her senseless with just one kiss. There was no way she could spend a week with him. Who knew what would happen?

Silently she admonished herself. She was stronger than that. Granted, she had allowed the man to kiss her on their second meeting, but now she was savvy to his charms. She would recognise the fiery look in his eyes and that seductive smile and she would put a halt to any further kisses.

Emma gave a tiny nod. She might have fallen for Sebastian Oakfield’s charm once, but she wouldn’t do it again. Her life had already been ruined by one man who had convinced her kissing and intimacy weren’t wrong; she wouldn’t make the same mistake.