"The Western Sahara," he said, strapping himself in.
The heat slammed into them like a blast furnace when they left the jet. "Here, darling," James said, putting her into a jeep. O’Connell and Holbrook crowded in as well, and he put Maura on his lap to make more room. It felt strangely intimate, her confusing new husband’s strong arms wrapping around her as they jolted along an unsteady road. Her hair kept brushing along his jaw, and Maura could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, making her skin tingle.
Maybe it was being held this way in front of the others, not like he was showing off his captive bride, but in a kind and protective grasp meant to keep her safe. Somewhere in Maura's brain, a ledger was being written, and the way James held her went into the column headed up by the cupcake.
It was only a short distance to an outcropping of tents, tall and sturdy ones, with air conditioners and generators already buzzing.
A tall man with grey hair cropped close to his scalp, and richly colored skin so black that it was almost blue, helped Maura out of the jeep. "Good afternoon, Mr. Pine." he said in unaccented English, "I hope your journey was comfortable?"
"Very much so, thank you. Mr. Sahnoun, this is Nicholas Holbrook, Robert O'Connell, and my new wife, Maura. She will, of course, be in my tent." Sahnoun smiled and shook hands with them all, seamlessly ushering them to their tents at the same time.
"Delighted to meet you all. Mrs. Pine, I fear our camp is a bit primitive, but I feel sure we can make you comfortable." He was bringing Maura into the tent as a porter carried their luggage. Looking around the bright, spotless interior, she marveled over the ornate brass lamps, the carved tables, and stands. The bed stood grandly in the center, it was a luxurious pile of richly colored fabrics in blue, green, and gold, with dozens of little plump cushions and pillows. The heavy canvas tent was already cool from the industrious air conditioner, and she shook her head and smiled.
"I think you are too modest, Mr. Sahnoun, this is paradise! How could you make such a luxurious space in the middle of the Sahara?"
He chuckled and bowed, "Now I think you are being too kind, Mrs. Pine, but I am here to help. Please let me know if there's something I can bring to make you more comfortable."
Pulling off her linen jacket, Maura suggested, "Perhaps if you could just show me where I could get some water? I can just bring it back myself?"
The porter moved to a table on the other side of the tent, opening a mini-fridge and pouring her a glass of water, adding ice with a flourish. Maura laughed and shook her head, amused by the decadence of a full bar in the middle of the Western Sahara. Sahnoun then deftly made a scotch, handing it to James. "I see you haven't forgotten, my friend," he said, toasting him as he took an appreciative sip.
"I gather this is not the first time you scoundrels have met?" Maura teased.
The two looked at each other. "We've had dealings before, eh?" James said.
Beginning to laugh, Sahnoun assured, "If that's what you want to call it, my friend." He exited the tent after bows to them were made and returned.
"Is there a special way I should greet people here?" Maura asked, "A way I should show respect?"
James looked at her with appreciation. She was the first Westerner he'd brought to this country who'd thought to ask. "I can assume you know it's considered rude for men and women to greet each other here, unless the head of the household-" he pointed to himself, "that would be me in this case, introduces you. The correct greeting is 'marHaban'. You will only shake hands with other women, and be sure to use your right hand." He took her left hand and lifted it to his lips. "The left hand in this culture is considered unclean. I've noticed that you sometimes lead with the other, being left-handed, of course. So, it would be helpful to remember to lead with your right."
Maura's eyes were focused on her hand pressed against his mouth. Tiny sparks ran along the sensitive skin as his lips moved over her knuckles, then onto her palm as he turned her hand over. When he began tracing the lines of her skin with his tongue, her eyelids drooped. He'd noticed she was left-handed? Such a small thing, but it still warmed her.
The buzz of the electronics around them started fading as his lips made their way to the thin skin of her wrist, trailing the nerves in the inner elbow, and finally to her exposed shoulder and neck. She let out the smallest sigh as she felt the cool trail of his tongue lead to just under her ear. Pulling back, James looked her up and down, smiling with a hint of a leer.
“Beautiful,” he praised, bending his head to hers again.
They both stiffened when a loud knock on a tent post shattered the spell, and Maura's head dropped back with a sigh. Fingers still stroking her, James irritably called out, "WHAT!"
One of his security detail called back nervously, "Ms. Kingston is on the satellite phone, sir. She's waiting to speak to you?"
James sighed as well, licking away her peppermint-flavored balm that was smeared on his lips. "Don't you dare move," he groaned. "I'll be back in a moment." The hand slid up to her neck, twisting slightly to rest his thumb on her chin, pushing it up to make Maura look at him. Trying to gauge his mood, she was relieved to see his eyes weren't the polar pale that meant trouble. "Back in a moment," he repeated, kissing her soundly and strutting out the door of the tent, not noticing he was already sporting a magnificent erection.
Shoulders shaking with effort, Maura made sure he would be out of earshot before bursting into laughter. Serves him right, she thought. Crude jesting outside the tent told her that a couple of the men already spotted their boss's... enlargement.
"Back in a moment," turned out to be over an hour, so Maura went back to doing some stretches and squats, trying to limber up again. Clearly, they were on one of the dig sites for the REE's. She speculated that they needed to show samples to prove to the bidding governments the material was as plentiful as they claimed. Who did the Corporation leave in Algiers for the overthrow? Maura shuddered as she guessed Fassell. He was the guard of the three, the most interested in violence and warfare. She almost wished it was James, because at least he'd make sure the new regime was in place with a minimum of bloodshed, based on his disposal of the chemical weapons.
"MRS. PINE ARE YOU IN THERE?" Maura nearly jumped out of her skin as O'Connell's voice roared outside the door of the tent. "DO YOU WANT TO COME OUT AND BLOW SOME SHITE UP?" Laughing soundlessly, she clutched her stomach as she made her way to the door and tried to compose herself.
"Mr. O'Connell, I'd love to but I'm not sure where James is, and I-"
"OH! JUST PASSED HIM AND PINE SUGGESTED I STOP BY. HE'S ON THE PHONE ARGUING WITH SOMEONE ABOUT SOME SUCH." O'Connell's broad red face held a smile.
"Let's just head in his direction for a moment then, but you know I'd love to see some explosions!" Maura said, trying to temper her enthusiasm with caution.
A cross between pity and understanding moved over O'Connell's expression and was gone so quickly she almost didn't catch it. "GOT YOU ON A SHORT LEASH? COME ON THEN, BELFAST."
Her steps slowed in surprise as Maura realized he’d caught the faintest hint of her childhood Belfast accent in the few exchanges they’d shared. He’s more alert than she’d thought. She’d have to be careful around him.
