Adored in Oman (Book 2 in Teach Me, Love Me Series): Interracial Romance (3 page)

Dinner had been a time of laughing, talking and teasing. Shan wondered why she had been so quick to refuse him when they first met. No sooner had she wondered to herself when he asked her, “Why did you tell me no when I asked for your number? I almost missed out on you.”

Sighing, sipping yet another wonderful cup of chai tea, she decided to be honest. “You know, I really don’t know. I think the first reason is because you are related to Lari’s husband. I didn’t want there to be awkwardness if we should meet each other over the years. She and I have known each other a long time. I plan to continue our friendship. Having a fling with her husband’s cousin would possibly put her in the position of not being able to invite me to milestone events, like baby showers. Secondly, you seemed like a flirt. I don’t really date men that I see as overly flirty.”

“Flirt? What is this word?” asked Abdulla.

“It means talking and teasing with a man or woman hoping to get to know them better. It is a way to show you are interested in a romantic relationship.”

“You said no because I was showing interest in you?”

“No, because I felt like you might do that with a lot of women or that you weren’t really interested, but were just being nice since I was there and friends with Lari,” she explained.

“Now do you know I only want to talk with you?”

“Yes, Abood,” she agreed with a smile.

“Where are we going next?” she quizzed, as she watched him leave money for the meal. “Or is the night over? I know you have to work tomorrow.”

“I must take you home. During Ramadan, I need to get to bed and sleep well so I can wake up early enough to eat before Fajr. But, tomorrow we should go to the wadi and count stars after Iftar.”

Smiling her agreement, Shan followed Abdulla to the car.

Abdulla and Shan sat in his car talking for an additional twenty minutes before she managed to take note of how long they had been sitting.

“Abdulla, I must go inside, I fear the teacher grapevine will be abuzz with the news of Miss Shan sitting in the car with a man no one knows.”

“I will walk you to your door.”

Walking side by side, slowly, neither in a hurry for the night to end, Shan and Abdulla confirmed their plans for tomorrow. Once they reached the door, Abdulla asked, “Is it fine if I call you during the day?”

“It is. I doubt I will sleep much tonight, my internal clock is in disarray; so if I don’t answer, don’t be offended. I will call you back,” Shan assured him.

Finally, they were standing at the door. Shan had put the key in and was leaning against the frame, one hand on the knob. Just looking at each other, silently, exploring one another’s faces. Acknowledging to themselves and one another; this felt different than either expected. Shan knew there would be no public kissing, but the way his eyes lingered over her features; her eyes, her hair, the skin on her neck, she felt kissed. She felt touched. His cologne invaded her every inhalation, surrounding her, making her want to lean in, just a bit. Abdulla could feel her eyes on his lips, his jaw, and his neck. It wasn’t awkward. It was curious and warm. She looked like she was wondering what he tasted like. He was wondering the exact same thing about her. The scent of roses continued to tease, at times faint and when she was close to him, as she was now; the air between them was fragrant.

Feeling as if they had been staring at one another for eons, it had in fact only been two long seeming minutes; they both stepped back at the same time. Abdulla stepped toward the entryway of the cluster of villas and Shan twisted her door open and stepped inside.

“Good night Abdulla,” she said in a low voice she didn’t recognize as her own.

“Good night, habbibti. Close your door; I will know you are safely inside,” he responded.

Still looking at him, she closed the door, slowly. Once inside, Shan leaned against the door and promptly slid to the floor. Her heart was beating rapidly. Pressing her fingers to her collarbone, as if to clutch a strand of pearls she said aloud, “That man packs a punch. I thought it was his lips, but those eyes are going to get me in trouble!”

Abdulla drove too fast on the way home. He was trying to displace all that energy Shan had called out of him. Abdulla knew passion. He remembered it with longing when he allowed himself to think of his first marriage. This, though, wasn’t passion sweetly remembered. It was fresh, hot with promise and in the present.

Shan was too keyed up to consider going to bed. The super nap she had taken earlier had her feeling wide awake. It wasn’t even ten o’clock. She had no idea what she would do with all this time and energy. She considered watching some Netflix and killing time that way, but wasn’t in the mood for searching out a film or television show.

It occurred to her she should check out ideas online for stargazing. She hadn’t done it since she was very young. Her parents had both been raised in the country and were fond of taking a late Friday drive to the family’s old homestead in Gladewater. She recalled her mother always packed snacks and a blanket, her Dad had binoculars for each of them. There was something else teasing at the edge of her memory; she was sure if she searched the internet, her memory would be tweaked.

Not even five minutes later she shouted, “Star Charts!”

Her Dad would show her a star chart, it was a wheel and you could see what should be easily visible based upon the time of year. She wondered if she could make one for tomorrow. At last, happy to have found something to do with her mind and hands, Shan was able to distract herself from musing about sexy, smiling lips.

Abdulla hit his home gym hard. He ran. He lifted. He sat in the tiny steam room that he and his cousins added on with their own hands. He had another meal. By the time he had done all that, it was time for Isha. He prepared himself for prayer and afterward, went directly to bed and tried not to imagine smooth skin, a laughing face and almond shaped, thickly lashed eyes that seemed bottomless.

Shan had printed and assembled two star charts. She had run to the nearby hypermarket and purchased two sets of binoculars. She mixed a tasty fresh fruit punch with mint, grapes, oranges and lemons floating along the top of the pitcher. She baked brownies using her Neiman Marcus cookbook, one of the few wedding gifts she had kept. After cleaning the kitchen, she took another shower, meditated to quiet her mind and wrote in her prayer journal. Finally, she felt rest was attainable. She dreamed of Abdulla.

Across town, slipping below the waters of consciousness into the great mystery, sleep; Abdulla dreamed of Shan.

The night deepened, the moon fought the sun and lost. A new day dawned.

Abdulla woke before the moon lost its battle with the sun. He ate a very healthy breakfast and drank one and half liters of water. Staying hydrated during Ramadan was a challenge in such a warm climate. Discipline and early mornings were the rules, not the exception.

After Fajr, Abdulla did his daily reading; he was about halfway through the Quran. It was necessary to read the entire holy book during Ramadan and Abdulla typically used this extra morning time to do so.

He began to dress for work around 8:00 and was behind his desk, checking email by 9:00. In spite of his best intentions and rather daunting to do list, Shan invaded his mind. He wondered if she had been able to sleep last night. If not, he wondered what she did all night long, while all of Muscat lay dreaming. He determined in his mind he would wait until lunch before calling.

Shan forgot to wear her eye cover when she finally went to bed. Consequently, the impudent sun made it impossible for her to sleep late. She rolled over, grabbed the soft mask and covered her eyes. As she drifted back to sleep she wondered if Abdulla had been able to wake for an early morning meal and if he was having a good morning. Slumber reclaimed her before she could wonder much else. She was smiling.

Noon arrived more slowly than Abdulla liked and sooner than Shan thought it should. Over ten years in the classroom and a mother with standards prevented her from lounging around in her bed past noon. Only lazy people or those on the night shift slept past noon. Teachers started thinking of all the things they needed to do before their feet hit the floor. Sleeping late was harder than getting up and starting the day.

Her phone chimed while she was turning her eggs and sipping her pomegranate juice. Reaching eagerly for it she snatched her hand away from the phone, pressed it to her tummy and inhaled then exhaled slowly. Then, she grabbed the phone and answered with a smile, “Hello.”

Releasing a breath he was unaware he had been holding, Abdulla responded with his own, “Hello, Shan.”

“How is your day going?” he inquired.

“If I wasn’t jet lagged, I would be embarrassed to admit I have only been out of the bed twenty minutes,” was her honest answer.

“How was your morning? Did you rise early, as you intended?” she queried.

“Of course and my morning has been busy. Are you still coming with me to look at the starry sky tonight?”

“I am. I made us star charts, fruit punch and brownies. I also purchased binoculars,” Shan told him.

“Excellent. I will pick you up after I break my fast and visit with my family. It will be completely dark about half past eight.”

“No problem. I will be sure to take a late nap so I won’t be yawning while we star gaze.”

“Shan, we will go to my mother’s sister’s home. Her rooftop is the perfect spot for sky watching. When I was a boy, I thought the whole wadi belonged to her. There will be a lot of family but we will only speak with them for a short time before heading to the roof. We will have to eat a little, to be hospitable.”

“No problem. Do I need to cover my head at your aunt’s home?”

“No habbibti. Come just as you did last night. Thank you for asking.”

With that, two adults, trying to hide their excitement under a cool exterior said their goodbyes and returned to anticipating their next meeting. The day passed like any other group of hours that separate people from what they really wanted to be doing, painstakingly slowly. Shan unpacked, started laundry and began making lists for her classroom. She burned incense and wrote in her prayer journal. She exchanged voice notes with her mother, who sometimes suffered from insomnia and was wide awake at three in the morning in Texas.

Abdulla attended some afternoon meetings. He reviewed task lists with his father. They revisited some talking points for the next audience with the Sultan. He met with the other members of the Council of State, who had also been appointed by the Sultan, just like his father.

Shan did a light workout, using her DVD series she had brought from home and followed it up with a short yoga practice. She moisturized and twisted her locs. Then she spent an hour toying with different updo styles for her date. She tried on and discarded an array of skirts and blouses. She settled on a peach colored peasant blouse paired to a cream ankle length skirt and a leather belt with embossed owls. She napped.

Abdulla drove home from the office and showered. He dressed in western wear this night. He wore jeans and a Ralph Lauren collared shirt. He went to the home where he was raised and joined his family in corporate prayer. Afterward, they broke their fast.

Unexpectedly, Salama, his sister asked, “Who is the woman you were eating with at Hamad’s restaurant yesterday?”

Abdulla’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

“My classmate saw you at the Ramadan tent with her and she saw you go inside the restaurant. She said you were laughing together.”

“Little sister, it is none of your business. She is a nice lady I was introduced to by our cousin, Mohammed. She and I took dinner last night and will go look at the stars tonight in the wadi. I am only answering your question because I know once I take her to Aunt’s home, you will hear about her anyway.”

              Abdulla was so busy giving his sister a low key dressing down, he missed the astonished glance his parents shared which was followed by two grins. Grins they quickly wiped from their faces as he turned to face them. They were thrilled for him. It seemed their son had decided to try once again for happiness. They sure hoped this woman knew what she was doing. Their son tended to make up his mind very quickly. Hopefully, she would be as interested in their son as he seemed to be in her. Only time would tell. With a quick, silent prayer thrown to the heavens, Abdulla’s mother asked if he would be bringing her to Iftar one night before the end of Ramadan.

“Ummi, we still have about two weeks left in Ramadan. I will definitely bring her to one of our Iftar meals.”

“Be sure you do,” was his mother’s only reply.

              Abdulla knocked on Shan’s door, just as the streetlights were lighting one by one. When she opened the door, his throat tightened. She was a vision in peach and cream. She looked like a dessert. The skirt was long and flowed around her legs as she stepped out of the door.

Shan presented each cheek for the customary kiss, kiss, hello she had become used to since moving to the Mid-East. When his lips touched her face, the spot he had touched seemed inflamed. “Down girl,” she thought to herself, not wanting to be quite so eager. Abdulla’s lips tingled when he stepped away from her.

“You are wearing a different scent today,” he observed.

“Yes, today I am wearing jasmine oil. I bought it in Egypt.”

“So, you wear a different scent each day?” he inquired.

“It depends on my mood. I wear a lot of lavender and gardenia also. I wore rose last night, which is odd, because I don’t wear that very often,” she responded.

“Why not?” was Abdulla’s response as he helped her into the car.

“I don’t know; it just seems so common.”

“I, for one have only very rarely smelled anyone wearing a single scented oil. Most people I know mix their scents or wear perfume. I find it sweet you wear only one scent at a time.”

“Yes, I have very sensitive skin. Perfumes have too many chemicals, I would surely itch all over if I sprayed that on my skin. I do, however, spray it on my clothes!” was Shan’s teasing reply. “I’m glad you like my scent. It could be a long night if you didn’t.”

Laughing, they headed for the outskirts of Muscat, leaving the city behind as they headed into the mountains. Forty-five minutes and lots of laughs later, Abdulla pulled into a short drive leading to a small villa. It was very old and looked like Moses might have built it on his way to the promise land. The villa was set right against the rocks, as if it were built into the mountain. There were stairs that looked suspect to Shan’s eyes and a shelf of rock that appeared to have been carved out by some enterprising soul. She assumed that was the star watching spot.

Abdulla confirmed her thoughts by pointing at the top of the stairs and saying, “That is where we will view the stars. Let’s go greet my Aunt and have a brief bite to eat.”

Entering the home, Shan was surprised at how old fashioned it seemed. There were lamps and rugs everywhere. There did not appear to be electricity. The family was gathered around a low table and eating. Upon noticing Abdulla there were cries of Abood, Abood! Draped ladies rushed over to greet their cousin and nephew. Shan noticed they all had their heads covered, but their faces were visible. She managed to remember all the names, just not which person the name belonged to. She resolved to lead every comment with a name, to avoid unnecessary embarrassment. His aunt was a warm, hospitable woman. She fed Shan, had tea brought, offered a variety of sweets and asked lots of questions. Shan was more than happy to answer and asked one of her own.

“How is it you live here without electricity? How do you manage?” was the first set of questions.

“No!” she hooted with laughter. “We don’t live here. We come twice during Ramadan to break our fast in the old way as a way of remembering where we come from. Abdulla always comes so he can go to the star watching chamber. He has been spending hours up there since he got his first telescope as a gift from his father, years ago.”

Shan thought it was nice he wanted to share his passion with her. She began to feel excited as she thought about their little star gazing adventure. She was comfortable in the darkened room with the ladies lounging about her. She could hear Abdulla’s deep voice mingling with those of his cousins. She was enjoying the sensation of being unplugged and unbothered about it. She could tell he was relaxed here in a way he hadn’t been in the city. About an hour later, they climbed up the exterior staircase they had seen earlier. Shan was thrilled with how sturdy it was. The structure had been set into the side of the mountain by holes being drilled and the foundation was set in the holes with cement anchors.

When she got her first glance at the star chamber she clapped her hands! “Abood, this is amazing!” she exclaimed.

“I am glad you like it,” was his only response.

“Like it? I love it! This looks like it is just a ledge, but it is an actual cave. It is a perfect place for sky watching. Thank you for bringing me here.”

That said, Abdulla reached behind the small sofa and retrieved a long case. He proceeded to open it and set up a telescope on a tripod. Shan was stunned!

“Wonders never cease,” she murmured to herself. “I love that you have your own telescope!”

“I have had it since before college. The first one wasn’t strong enough to see as deeply into space as I would have liked. This is an updated model,” he explained, then told Shan a little about his hobby and how much he grew to enjoy it during high school.

All the while he was efficient with the setup of his Sky Eye and even set their snacks onto a shelf that had been cut into the wall. She could easily see the shelf holding a whole night’s worth of snacks. Shrugging off her backpack, she liberated the binoculars she had purchased and the star charts. He showed her what to look for and offered her first look on the Sky Eye. She took him up on his offer and as she peered through the lens, she could feel the warmth from his body as he leaned forward and made some minor adjustments. She felt cuddled and protected. Hot. If this man did not back up off her behind, she was going to lose her mind, feeling the heat from his body while stargazing was distracting. He, on the other hand did not appear to be struggling at all.

They spoke in whispers as he guided her around the sky. Their cheeks touched. Their hands brushed. She could feel his breath on her ear when he leaned down to speak to her as she looked for planets and Pleiades. He could smell her hair. He felt heat coming off her body in waves and wondered at the trembling of her throat, knowing her heart was beating as fast as his, in spite of her calm, low voice. As the hour grew late, he confessed he had made arrangements to work from home the next day.

“Why?” she whispered while looking through her binoculars.

“We will leave here quite late and I will be too tired tomorrow. I will wake for breakfast and prayer, and then continue sleeping until late morning. I will work from home and take calls. I won’t be entirely free during the day.”

“This could have waited until the weekend,” she told him, looking at him instead of the sky.

“No. I could not have waited until the weekend. I wanted to see you.”

She smiled up at him, eyes shining, reflecting all the stars that surrounded their heads. He reached out and touched one loc, which was resting against her collar bone. He gave it a slight tug and she stepped closer.

“I should not kiss you, but I find I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered as he leaned toward her.

“I know. I feel the same way,” she said on a shaky breath.

He did. She did. Their lips touched and two hearts beat faster. They did not step closer together. It was just lips and eyes. Their eyes were open when their lips met for the first time. Their expressions were questioning, tentative. As if they were each asking the other for permission.

It started off sweet, very light pressure, just a soft touch. It increased in pressure and intensity with every breath. Their tongues met, just barely. A light introductory exploration that made them both sigh. Shan’s eyes drifted shut, Abdulla’s finger traced its way down her face, soft skin calling to him, imploring him to explore just a bit.

When Abdulla realized he was on the edge of his self-control and that he needed to release her lips before he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, he planted two kisses, one on each eye and said, “Habbibti. We should go before I fail to be a gentleman.”

She winked at him and agreed, “You are right. I would hate to see you lose your grip on good manners.”

Staring at each other with amusement they missed a shooting star right overhead.