Sheikh's Castaway by Alexandra Sellers Read Free Book Online

wasn’t easy to use, and every time she put an arm out the hatch, water trickled down into her armpit, something that quickly became a form of Chinese torture.
    Bari began to attach a plastic pouch to a narrow sleeve in the canopy above his head.
    â€œWhat’s that?” she asked warily, because she thought she knew.
    â€œIt collects rainwater.”
    Noor shook her head. “You’re worried about conserving water?”
    â€œThe storm will pass. What then?”
    Noor bit her lip and went on bailing.
    When it was a little more than half full, Bari removedthe bag and tied the neck, setting it down. Then he picked up a plastic cup and began to help her bail. They worked together in silence for a time, bailing out as much as they could. Then they began sponging the floor dry.
    â€œDo you think a boat or a plane will see us when the storm clears?”
    â€œNot necessarily immediately.”
    â€œHow long?”
    He looked up from his task, as if exasperated that she insisted on forcing herself on his notice.
    â€œYou are not a fool, Noor! You know as well as I do that it is possible to be lost at sea for a very long time.”
    â€œBut this is the Gulf of Barakat, not the Pacific!”
    He apparently didn’t consider that worth answering. She wondered whether they risked being carried out of the gulf and into the broader sea.
    Abruptly she began to shiver. Her teeth chattered, and she realized how cold she had become. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the convulsions as shock suddenly began to make itself felt in her.
    â€œI’m scared,” she admitted in a whisper. “I’m so cold. Bari, would you—hold me?”
    She despised herself for this show of weakness even as she asked.
    Bari turned. His eyes fell on her bare foot, her ankle, then moved slowly up her brown calf to her bent knee. Then to the thin silk clinging to her body as snugly as a bathing suit. The teddy was made almost transparent by the wet, so that the nest of hair between her thighs was sharply revealed.
    Just for a moment his eyes registered something very different than the bored irritation he had been treating her to. For one electric second they flashed with the familiar black fire that had so seduced her, and with animmediacy that was almost physical, Noor was remembering that other time they had been enclosed together in a storm….
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    They had sailed down the coast one morning and dropped anchor in a ruggedly scenic turquoise bay just before lunch. They swam in the crystal sea, over the submerged ruins of an ancient settlement that was now no more than a few squares outlined in raised earth and some scattered potsherds in the serene white sand, evidence of their kinship with those who had been drawn to this pleasant bay aeons ago.
    Overlooking the bay, above on the rocky finger that marked the last reach of the Noor mountain range, was a more recent house in traditional Bagestani style. Its once-white paint was grey and peeling, its domed roof badly weather-damaged. A wooden door sagged on its hinges.
    There were many such estates in Bagestan, she knew—abandoned by those who had fled the country under Ghasib’s rule—including her family’s own. Closer to the cities, such properties had mostly been expropriated by the government, but in remote areas often they had been left to the elements.
    Noor had gazed up at the house as she swam in the jewelled water.
    â€œSo tragic,” she said, for the house fired her imagination. “It must have been so beautiful, and now it looks—lonely. I wonder who it belongs to, and whether they intend to come back now and restore it.”
    Bari hadn’t answered. Their bodies gleaming, they climbed back aboard and rinsed the salt off under the freshwater shower hose at the stern. Bari, the nozzle held above his head, suddenly pointed up at the sky. Dark clouds were moving out from behind the