Her Desert Knight by Jennifer Lewis Read Free Book Online

but the prospect was too depressing to contemplate. There’d be nothing but dull days at home, cooking the same familiar dinners, tidying her bare room, broken up with occasional walks to the bookshop and the fruit stalls. Possibly a frighteningly unattractive suitor would take pity on her from time to time. Since she didn’t have any kind of promising escape plan, who knew how long that might go on for? “Okay.”
    He turned to her with an expression of surprise.
    “You thought I’d say no.”
    “I did.”
    She loved that he didn’t lie. “Apparently I’m more reckless than you thought.”
    “I like that in a woman.” His wicked grin hinted at trouble to come. And strangely enough, she was starting to look forward to it.
    * * *
    The next morning she dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Considering she’d worn little else for all her years in the United States, it was odd how daring it felt to don them. When she returned, her father had told her she should wear conservative clothing and conduct herself like an Omani woman, and—grateful for the chance to stay here—she’d obeyed. They were only clothes, right? She quickly adapted to covering her arms and legs, and her hair—the way she’d been taught as a child.
    But dressing in Western clothing again was liberating and felt right. She did don a cover-up and headscarf before Quasar showed up, but she shed them in the car with relief and enjoyed Quasar’s admiring gaze on her body-hugging jeans and T-shirt.
    Driving up into the lush green mountains with a handsome man, Dani felt a sense that anything was possible, something she hadn’t experienced since her college days. They parked and walked along a wooded trail as thick with leaves and scents and life as any trail in the New Jersey woodlands. It amazed her that during this season, paradise existed right here in her arid homeland. In a way it proved that anything was possible—anywhere—with a little rain and mist to break up the relentless heat and sun that scorched most of Oman into a virtual wasteland.
    “A steppe eagle.” Quasar stopped and grabbed her arm. He pointed high in a tree where a magnificent bird looked posed, as if it sat on an ancient Egyptian frieze. “It’s seen something.”
    The bird stayed frozen for a few moments, then dropped like a rock toward land, before swooping up on broad, flapping wings with some small creature in its mouth.
    “It caught its prey. What a magnificent sight.” Dani peered after it as it perched on a branch nearby. “Though I can’t help but feel bad for the animal that’s about to be eaten.”
    “Eat or be eaten.” Quasar’s grip on her arm had softened into a sort of caress. “It’s the way of the world.”
    His touch heated her skin. She was usually the one being eaten. “Do you really believe that? Isn’t there any middle ground?”
    He looked amused. “I suppose so. I haven’t explored it myself.”
    “Since I can’t imagine you being eaten, then I assume you’re used to being the one doing the devouring.”
    He laughed. “Too right. I used to keep a falcon for hunting. Trained it myself. I’d spend hours out here tracking prey with it when I was a kid.” She shrank a little from his touch. His admitted predatory attitude should make her wary. “But don’t be afraid. I won’t eat you.”
    “No?” She looked up into his face. His dark blue eyes were soft, curious.
    “No.” The high midday sun illuminated his aristocratic features. Of course he wouldn’t be interested in devouring her. Obviously she’d been out of circulation too long to think that a man as magnificent and confident as Quasar would be interested in her.
    “Maybe just a tiny bite.” His wide, sensual mouth hitched slightly. Something strange was happening in her belly. It was the way he looked at her, like he held her in his grasp. She couldn’t look away. His face was moving closer, his sparkling eyes still fixed right on hers. She could smell his musky,