Adored in Oman (Book 2 in Teach Me, Love Me Series): Interracial Romance (2 page)

Twenty minutes later, having spoken to her mother, opened her red wine so it could breathe and fresh from the shower, Shan was reclining with a large glass of her favorite Australian red and her iPad streaming Amazon Music. The 90s R&B station was giving her everything she needed at this moment. Typically, she would be ready for rest a few sips into her welcome home glass of wine. However, this day she was thinking about that Abdulla. Now there was a fellow who had no confidence problems and was bold as brass. She wasn’t exactly sure how she wanted to handle this situation.

On the one hand, he is very easy on the eyes. Clearly, he spends time in the gym. Thankfully, he isn’t all muscle, but he sure is firm everywhere. He has nice chest hair, too. Sleek men looked like boys to her, so she never has been into the hairless look. That’s for women and male models. He has beautiful, very dark brown eyes and eyelashes that could only be described as lustrous. He has a prominent nose, but this was not surprising. Most people in warm climes have wider noses. His skin is the color of a toasted peanut. Of course, that isn’t the real temptation. It’s that smile—those white teeth. Those pretty, perfect lips. He has a gorgeous smile. The kind of smile that turned up his lips, creased his eyes, and left dimples in his cheeks. Dimples! Damn it.

“Shan, you don’t have to be so standoffish! Just go with it. It was a cute gesture. Be nice and see what he wants,” she said aloud to herself. Having decided what she would do and grateful she didn’t have to get a new phone, she drained her wine and went to sleep.

Abdulla was making plans for later that evening. It was a stroke of luck her flight landed before noon. This made it possible for her to have a long nap while he was at his office and be rested enough for a night out. There was no way he was waiting until tomorrow to see her. He hadn’t seen her since Mohammed and Lari’s wedding in July. In fact, he had not seen her then, he knew she was invited but only managed to catch a glimpse of her sliding into a cab when she left. He had just enough time to wave at her before the driver pulled away from the valet stand.

For tonight, he planned to take her to a local restaurant with the best rice on the planet. They would sit on the floor and get all the formalities out of the way. No need to put on airs when you are on the floor eating. He was ready to see if he could make her laugh.

Shan woke to a blazing late day sun dominating her bedroom window. The view was satisfying after being confined to her old room at her mother’s home. She loved visiting the States. But, her life there was so different from the one she had here; starting with this picture window that actually captured a view worth a picture.

She had slept a significant portion of the day. She felt extremely rested and thirsty. The eye cover, courtesy of Emirates airlines, had done its job and kept her from being disturbed by the changing sun. What woke her was something more powerful than sunshine. She needed the bathroom, right away. As she returned from the bathroom, massaging shea butter into her hands, she noticed her cell phone was lit. She wondered who it was. Due to her phone’s untimely death, she hadn’t sent the WhatsApp message to her Oman framily alerting them she had returned. She activated the screen and saw the text was from Abdulla.

              Abdulla:
Rise and shine habbibti. Dinner time.

              Shan:
Good evening. Have you broken your fast?

              Abdulla:
I prayed and had a little something. I wanted to take you with me.

Shan:
I’m assuming you are ready now. I can’t imagine you want to wait much longer.

Abdulla:
You are right. I don’t. Send me your address and by the time I get there, you can be ready.

              Shan:
Muscat isn’t that big, so I guess I better dress quickly.

              Abdulla:
Dress comfortably for Iftar.

Shan:
This isn’t my first rodeo. I know how to attire myself for a big event. See you shortly.

Fifteen quick minutes later, Shan was opening the door for Abdulla. He was dressed traditionally with his embroidered kumma atop his recently barbered head. He leaned toward her and kissed both cheeks. He smelled expensive.

“Shan, you look lovely and smell like a rose,” he complimented her.

“Thank you Abdulla. You are looking better than good yourself. Now, let’s get you to some food. How has your day been?” she asked.

“Busy,” was his response as he admired her backside when she turned to lock the door.

“Is it okay that I’m not in an abaya?” she inquired as they walked to his car.

“Of course, your skirt is very colorful. I like it. I hope you won’t be overly warm.”

“The shirt is thin; I’m wearing it just to cover my arms because I wasn’t sure where we would be breaking your fast.”

“We are going to a local restaurant. They have the most wonderful lamb and goat. Their rice is great and full of raisins. The owner’s wife also makes the best tea I’ve had in my entire life. She is from South Africa. They married when he was fresh from University, traveling the world. He visited South Africa and took her with him when he left. To this day she says her parents are confused about how they let that foreign man run off with their only daughter.”

Laughing, Shan said, “I bet they are! I know firsthand how difficult it is to say no to some men. They just keep rephrasing the question until they get the answer they want.”

Abdulla grinned at her with those pretty lips and said, “No is just a jumping off point. We all know you really want to say yes. It is our job to make the right request.”

Raising her eyebrows, Shan looked at him and asked, “Oh? So, next time I need to tell you no, I’ll just tell you to rephrase the question.”

“Oh, you aren’t going to get in the habit of telling me no. Once I get to know you, I will know exactly how to get you to say yes, to everything.”

“My. Someone ate their Wheaties this morning. Your confidence is super high,” she commented drily.

“My confidence is always super high and I’ve been fasting since first prayer, so no, it is not the Wheaties.”

Shan couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. Not even a cute laugh, but an undignified, loud guffaw. She leaned against the door and turned toward her date.

“You are going to be fun, aren’t you?” she asked once she had her laughter under control.

“Oh, I certainly hope you think so. A happy woman makes for a happy circumstance,” Abdulla stated.

The rest of the ride passed in pleasant conversation. He asked a lot of questions. He wanted to know as much as possible. Shan was relaxed and didn’t mind, so she answered them. She shared that she was from a mid-size city in Texas, called Longview. She talked about her years in college at Rice University in Houston. She shared about her deceased father and when she spoke of her mother, Abdulla could tell they were close. He asked what brought her to Oman. For the first time, she hesitated before she answered the question. This made him more curious but he didn’t rush her answer.

“My marriage ended. I needed some space from the memories so I left. I’ve taught in Korea, Japan, and Dubai. Oman is my favorite place, so far. I think I might stay here for a while,” she said while he listened intently.

There was a moment of silence that threatened to become too long to be described as comfortable when he said, “My wife was taken from me in a car accident. I understand the need to put distance between yourself and memories. I sold the house we lived in because I thought I could smell her perfume and it was too much for me.”

Shan was stunned to hear he was a widower. How hurtful and shocking it must have been to have lived through such an event as a young husband. She reached for his hand and said, “I’m sorry for your loss,” with utter sincerity.

Bringing her hand upward he pressed it to his lips for a brief, warm kiss and said, “Thank you.”

Shan’s tummy tightened when those beautiful, perfect lips touched her skin and she gripped his hand a little tighter before releasing him. They arrived at the restaurant, at the end of a long parking lot. There was an enormous tent in the grassy median where people could be seen coming and going. The Ramadan tent had a variety of uses. Some were for the needy, where they could be fed and refreshed for Iftar. Others were themed and varied from gaming to shisha to sweets tents. This particular tent was for people arriving to the various restaurants in this shopping center. This allowed fasters to immediately put a little something on their belly before going in and placing an order. They entered and were immediately offered tea and dates. There were pillows and carpets spread about where you could sit and relax, but Abdulla was too hungry to sit eating dates. They accepted the dates, drank their tea standing and chatting with other fasters and their friends before heading over to the eatery.

Abdulla loved how relaxed Shan seemed to be. She did not seem uncomfortable at the Ramadan tent, made friends with complete strangers easily and made sure to replenish his dates while he was talking, simply saying, “I know you haven’t eaten all day.”

Also, the scent of roses that lingered around her was driving him to distraction.

Abdulla entered with Shan and was immediately greeted with hails of “Salaam Alaikum” from the proprietor, Hamad. After a hearty greeting and inquiries about family, Abdulla introduced Hamad to Shan. The Omani are quite cosmopolitan, so it was not odd for Hamad to shake Shan’s hand, which he did when introduced.

“Abood, I fear you have been keeping secrets from your old friend,” teased Hamad.

“No secrets, just a new friend, brother and I brought her here as fast as I could,” was Abdulla’s response.

“Secrets? Are you a secret keeper,
Abood
?” asked Shan.

“Come, break your fast Abood and you as well, Shan. Have you been fasting today?” Hamad inquired, poorly hiding his curiosity about Shan’s background.

“No, I’m not fasting Hamad, but I haven’t eaten since I deplaned, all I’ve had other than a beverage is a nap. So, I’m starving. Feed us. Please,” she told him with a smile.

Abdulla knew there was something to the question Shan had asked him. As they were seated on the carpet and leaning against the cushions drinking freshly squeezed juice that had seemingly manifested out of thin air, he answered her.

“No, I’m not a secret keeper. I will always answer every question you ask me. I may not answer completely, but I will always be truthful,” he told her, maintaining eye contact and a serious expression. He could feel this mattered to her.

“I wasn’t accusing you, just asking,” was her only response.

“Women don’t ask any question without a very good reason. I just want to be clear that you understand me. You may not always like it, but you will get answers for any question you ask. Be prepared for the truth. It can sometimes surprise you,” he added the last sentence almost as an afterthought.

Shan’s laugh was a little forced. “Yeah, I know all about surprising truths.”

“Tell me who hurt you,” Abdulla demanded in a soft voice.

“What?” Shan asked, incredulous.

“Nobody hurt me,” she insisted.

“Someone did hurt you because that last laugh sounded painful and a little sad. Who surprised you with an unpleasant truth?” he coaxed.

Shan felt irritated. How could this possibly be first date conversation? She wasn’t interested in spilling out a decade old embarrassment and certainly not to a cutie like this one. That’s why she left home. She never wanted to discuss that crappy episode again.

So, she did what she always did and changed the subject.

“How do you know Hamad?” she asked. “The two of you have a very familiar relationship. He is teasing you about a date, making nosy inquiries as to my religious affiliation and serving you like an honored guest. There is deep affection there. Tell me about that.”

Eyeballing her to let her know he wasn’t fooled and wouldn’t be deterred, Abdulla leaned forward and said, “Hamad and I played together as boys. He is older than me, but he used to let me play on his team whenever we would all get together on the park grounds to play fútbol. He had a powerful leg and I had fast ones.”

“Now, answer me. What happened to your heart to make you sound sad when speaking of surprising truths? Tell me now so I can avoid ever doing such a thing.”

Shan knew there was no point in trying to avoid the question. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. Hamad’s serving team chose that moment to arrive with multiple platters of food bearing rice, bread, goat, lamb and shwarma.

Without further ado, they both fell upon the delicious smelling food. Thirty minutes later, they were relaxing after round one and sipping tea. Shan was feeling quite satisfied and thinking she would definitely be coming back with her friends. Abdulla was simply waiting for her to answer his question.

“Shan. Tell me.”

Giving him a less than friendly look, she sighed. Then, sighed again, to make sure he understood how put upon she felt.

“For the record, this date started off so promising. I would like to enjoy this. I don’t want to discuss something painful from years ago. I don’t want any old hurts intruding on something fresh. I think you could be a lot of fun for a little while. Can you agree to table the question for at least three dates? I will answer it then, if we see a fourth date. We may not find ourselves to be all that great of a match. If that happens, there will have been no need for me to rehash a difficult time I had when I was younger.”

“I can do that, Shan. But, I do want to know about the root of the sadness I heard in your voice. So, consider the question tabled; for the next three dates at least,” he agreed.

Then, with a grin, “So, you are enjoying this night and thinking three nights ahead? This is very good. It means you like me a little. Am I right?”

Laughing, she leaned forward and said, “No,
Abood
, I like you more than a little.”