‘Don’t be long,’ she said shyly, turning away.
‘You’ll be safe here,’ he said, touching her arm.
She smiled—a little tremulously, he thought, and he wanted the confident woman back. He wanted Casey to enjoy life to the full and know how valuable she was—not just as a colleague in business, but as a human being.
To that end there must be no more desire-charged looks or testosterone running riot, he told himself as he lifted the lid of an intricately carved Iroko chest. ‘You’ll find fresh clothes in here.’ He helped himself to a new black robe without turning round to face her. ‘Take whatever you need.’
She didn’t answer, and he guessed she was still taking stock of her position. She was alone in the desert with him, with attraction gaining momentum every minute as they got to know each other better. He would make love to her here, in the most beautiful and challenging place on earth. He had wanted to make love to Casey from the moment they met, but would only do so when he was certain she felt unthreatened and safe in every way.
Then there would only be one danger left, he reflected, which was Casey’s sexual appetite. It had been repressed for so long that when she finally let go he had a feeling it would consume her. But when that happened he would be ready.
‘I’ve got Halloumi cheese, mango, pine nuts and some green stuff in those saddle bags—so get thinking,’ he told her lightly on the way out of the tent. ‘I’m hungry,’ he added with a casual shrug, as if his stomach was the only part of his body making demands on him these days, ‘and I’m sure you are too …’
She looked relieved, as he’d hoped she would, as she started to work out her menu, while he badly needed to work off some energy. Slinging a towel over his shoulder, he headed at speed for the calming waters of the oasis.
She had the ingredients neatly lined up and a plan in her head by the time Raffa returned from his swim. ‘All clear at the oasis,’ he called to her from outside the tent. ‘You can have your swim in absolute privacy while I find some more tinder for our fire.’
She would have liked to have seen him in the simple black robes, but he had taken them with him and her imagination had to do the rest. She waited until he had gone, and then peeped out of the tent to be sure it was all clear. She had dreamed of this moment, and ran down to the oasis as fast as she could, with the sort of abandonment she hadn’t felt since she was a child, when a swim had meant plunging into an icy river. This was very different. She paused at the brink, just to stare for a moment at the beauty of the desert all around her. She had the moonlight to herself, and the stars were twinkling …
Strangely, she felt quite safe—the Raffa effect, she guessed. Though remembering his warning about bugs, she checked around first before leaving her clothing on a rock. She had intended to leave her underwear on, but at the last moment she decided to take it off and rinse it through for the next day. She was quite alone—not that she needed an excuse to go skinny-dipping.
Stepping into the water, she cautiously made her way forward. Raffa had been right. The ground beneath her feet felt firm and there were no pebbles underfoot. The water had been heated to body temperature by the desert sun and, guessing this would be the most magical thing she had ever done, she launched herself in. Putting her head down, she began to swim seriously.
It was some time later when she remembered she was supposed to be helping Raffa prepare a meal. It was just so hard to tear herself away from the oasis …
Lifting her head to get her bearings, she saw a tall, robed figure watching her from the bank. She swam to shore, while Raffa came down from the dune where he’d been standing guard to meet her. He was just a few feet away as she crouched self-consciously in the shallows. His face was shadowed by the howlis, which he had put on again with his robe, and his eyes were bright in the darkness.
There was a brief flash of white as he smiled. ‘Did you forget something?’ he murmured.
For a moment she wondered what he meant, but then she realised that in her excitement she had run down to the oasis without a towel. ‘Did you bring one?’
Raffa’s answer was to open his arms to her.
Would she trust him enough to come out of the water? The moment was as crucial for him as it was for Casey. Sexual frustration was eating him up from the inside out.
He waited on the bank until, like a water nymph of unbelievable perfection, she rose out of the water and came steadily towards him. A surge of some primal instinct bathed him as he enclosed her in his robe. She must feel his body heat, as he could feel hers, but his only thought as he drew the folds of cloth around her was to keep her safe.
‘You were watching me,’ she accused softly, trembling a little as she slowly relaxed.
‘Did you think I would let you swim on your own in the darkness? What if something had gone wrong?’
‘I’m a strong swimmer, Raffa.’
‘Even strong swimmers get cramp.’
During this short conversation he felt her growing awareness of their naked bodies touching. Casey’s damp, his dry. And though he had ensured there was some fabric between them, it was hardly a barrier. He held her in his arms until she felt safe enough to rest her head against his chest. Savouring that for a moment, he shifted position, forcing Casey to move.
‘Come on,’ he said holding out his hand. ‘We’re both hungry.’
In a moment of complete trust she put her hand in his. ‘I’m ready, Raffa.’
Raising her slender fingers to his lips, he said, ‘I know.’
‘Thank you again,’ she said in a way that told him she didn’t want to let her fantasies run away with her. Her next words confirmed it: ‘Hopefully this will be the last time you’ll have to bail me out.’
‘And if it’s not, you shouldn’t worry. You can take advantage of me all you like.’ He kept his robe around her, so she was hidden from sight but not from his senses as they walked back to camp. He could detect the clean oxygenated water, and even the sand between her toes, he was so keenly tuned to her. She was trying hard not to read too much into what had happened, while he was exulting. He said nothing until they reached the tented pavilion, where he moved the entrance flap for her.
‘The robes are in the chest,’ he reminded her. ‘Help yourself.’
After he let the tent flap drop he stood a moment, breathing deeply, wondering how he was going to hold back from going straight to Casey now and making love to her all night. Anticipation, he mused, smiling a little as he walked away. Never had he felt hunger like this before. But the erotic build-up would put Casey’s senses in a state of the utmost awareness, allowing her to extract the ultimate from each and every sensation—which was what he wanted for her.
She held her breath as she listened to Raffa walking away. For a moment she had thought he would come back into the tent, but he was going to make her wait—either that or he didn’t want her after all.
That had to be it, she reasoned, pulling back from her stupid vigil. What was she waiting for, exactly?
Lifting the lid of the clothes chest, she selected the plainest robe in the smallest size. It was still far too big for her, but at least it was simple and serviceable and wouldn’t draw attention. She didn’t want to look as if she was trying too hard.
Having arranged it to cover as much of herself as she could, she scraped her still damp hair back into a ponytail before walking outside.
Raffa was stoking the fire, having removed his howlis. ‘You look good in that,’ he commented, casting a lazy