Affair of Pleasure by Lindsay Evans

Author:Lindsay Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-08-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Wolfe sat around the fire with Nichelle, Franklin, Green and their guides, sipping from his small glass of mint tea. His thighs ached dimly from the ride, but overall he felt both energized and relaxed, completely at peace. His wants were few.

In the surprising coolness of the desert, the fire’s warmth tempted him closer. But Nichelle’s heat drew him even more. In her jeans and white blouse, she looked very much the modern woman, but with the winds howling through the sand and the camels only a few feet away, it was easy to imagine he was with her in another time and free of the responsibilities that had brought them to Morocco in the first place.

“It is a good night, yes?” Mahmoud nodded to everyone around the fire.

Wolfe nodded back. The trip hadn’t gone quite as expected, but he had enjoyed himself very much. Only one thing would make his desert adventure sweeter. He glanced at Nichelle. Her mouth was curved into a smile and her eyes sparkled with warmth. She looked happy.

“A good night calls for a good song,” Kareef said. Then he launched into the opening words of Pharrell Williams’s “Happy.”

After exchanging a look and “why not?” shrugs, Wolfe and Nichelle started singing along. Franklin and Green looked at them as if they were crazy. The two men’s uptight frowns only made Wolfe sing louder, while Nichelle’s bright gaze warmed him like the midday sun.

The sing-along, scattered with talk of world politics, lasted until their Berber host brought dinner. They ate the small meal of chicken tagine over sweet couscous, talked and laughed around the fire until, one by one, the other men excused themselves for more restful evening pursuits. Franklin and Green went off to their beds in the tent while Mahmoud and Kareef wandered off to smoke, their deep voices in Arabic filling the night with another kind of music.

Wolfe sank lower onto his pallet in front of the fire until he was lying on his back and facing away from the tents. The makeshift bed inside the tent was more comfortable, but in the darkness of the desert, the stars were shimmering and bright. It seemed a shame to sleep indoors when this was happening in the heavens above him.

“Stay out here with me,” he said to Nichelle.

He turned his head to watch her, similarly slumped in her pallet but much more gracefully, her long, jean-clad legs stretched toward the fire while a pillow she’d brought outside supported her neck.

She smiled at him, lazy and sweet. “Do you see me going anywhere?”

Once we get to Miami, yes.

But he said nothing. The profile of her face was awash in light from the fire, teasing out the fullness of her lips, her sharp cheekbones, the line of her neck. He couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be, or anyone else he’d rather share the beauty of the desert with.

“I want to kiss you,” he said.

She didn’t move. He could’ve pretended she hadn’t heard him. Except he noticed the flicker of her eyelashes, the shudder that rippled through her long body.

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