Gazes locked. Hips locked. Heartbeats and breaths locked in rhythm.
I’m so close to losing my head and kissing her. If I do that here, in front of the Cambridge boys, in front of Garret and Riley, I’m screwed. We’re both screwed. But those eyes of hers. Whatever she says about not wanting anything between us, she’s lying. Because I can read her like a book. And if I can, maybe everyone around us can, too.
“Cutting in,” Jeremy cries, spinning Sadie away from me.
Thank God.
I head to the bar and down a bottle of cold water, which helps. A little.
I sit out the rest of the dance, although I can’t take my eyes off Sadie, who’s thrown herself into learning to belly dance like she does everything else. With gusto.
Rather than stay and risk doing something stupid, I put Simon and Ashraf in charge and walk back to the boat for an earlyish night.
It’s nice, actually, to have some alone time. Ashraf and I are the only ones on the boat who don’t share a cabin, but usually, by the time I get there of a night, I’m too tired to appreciate the privacy.
I wander down to the galley, find myself a beer, throw on a jumper against the night chill and head back up on deck to enjoy the peace. We’re moored close enough to the restaurant that I can hear the bass thump of the music and the occasional laugh. Sadie’s laugh, I imagine. I’m glad they’re having fun. It’s been a gruelling week, and Derek’s visit yesterday finished it off on a bad note.
As it does way too often these days, my mind turns to Sadie. How hard she’s worked, how careful and precise she is. How much enthusiasm she shows for every aspect of the dig. How much kindness and respect she shows the Egyptian workers. Like magic, the hard-on I managed to get under control on my walk back to the boat returns.
I might be able to ignore my feelings if they were purely physical. But there’s no point lying to myself. Her mind, her integrity, her huge heart … every bit of her is appealing. More than that. She’s bewitching.
Throwing my empty beer bottle in the bin, I head back to my cabin to take care of this situation, debating whether to go for a shower or just collapse on the bed.
An image of Sadie in the shower at Bangalay flashes through my heated brain, and somewhere a lot lower. Decision made. I strip off my shoes, trousers and shirt, grab my towel and toiletries bag, and head to one of the three bathrooms we all share.
By the time the water is warm enough to climb into the tiny little cubicle and pull the slightly too short curtain closed, I’m as hard as I’ve ever been. Because Sadie left her shampoo in the bathroom. And, of course, I couldn’t ignore it like a rationalhuman being. I had to take a sniff. Okay. Not just a sniff. I may have poured a little in my hand. And I might have lathered it. And used it as lube.
The callouses on my palms, formed by the spades and trowels of many digs, drag on my sensitised skin. I wonder if Sadie has callouses forming yet. All of this brings things to a head, so to speak, faster than I expected. Which is probably just as well because no sooner is my shout of relief—and release—echoing off the walls of the tiny bathroom than I hear voices coming closer, footsteps thumping up the gangplank and across the deck above my head.
For the first time in my life, I can’t wait for a dig to end. Because continuing to be in such close proximity to Sadie, and keeping my feelings to myself, is going to kill me.
All the students make a slow start on Saturday. Even Sadie.
I’ve organised for us to ride some donkeys up into the hills above town where we can check out some of the tombs in the local area.
Riley’s experience with the camel has put her off riding any kind of animal, so she elects to stay on the boat. Marwa and Noha are on board, and I give Sayed strict instructions not to let her disembark without him.
The hills are steep, and the trails narrow and rocky, but the donkeys are used to the terrain, and the last thing they want is to fall. Hangovers notwithstanding, it’s a day full of laughs and enjoyment. I can’t remember the last time I felt so content. And no, it has nothing to do with the self-care of last night. And everything to do with good company in a place that’s always been special to me. There’s something about Egypt. Not just the ancient sites but the beauty of the Nile, the craggy deserts,the amazing smells. I love my family and my home, but this is probably where I feel most like my true self.
It’s midafternoon by the time we get back to the boat, which is ready to depart as soon as we’re all aboard. We need to be back at Amarna by nightfall.
“We’ve got an early start tomorrow, people. So maybe don’t go too hard on the cards and beer tonight, huh?” I suggest as we settle onto the deck cushions, stretching our aching legs. Donkey saddles in Egypt are little more than pillowcases stuffed with straw, so we’re all a bit sore.
Bart hurls himself face down. “I can’t sit. I’m sure my arse is bruised.”
“Bags not be the one to look.” Sadie holds a hand up over her eyes.
“You should be so lucky.” Bart pouts.
“You’d have to get in line if you want Sadie to look at your arse,” Riley snaps.
We all grin as Sadie pokes her tongue out at Riley from behind her back.
Further discussion is cut off by a long, loud blast on the horn by Khaled as he pulls into the channel.
I think about having a quiet chat with Riley about her attitude, but Sadie made it clear she didn’t want me to interfere, and the last thing I want to do is inflame the situation. So I continue to hold my tongue.
I don’t know why it happens, but week two of a dig always seems to be the week people come down with Egyptian belly.
