Chapter 8
Ardeth held the precious bundle in his lap tightly as they rode across the sand. Her head rested against his chest and she had an arm about his waist to anchor herself and help them balance. The top of her head came just to his chin, and he was nearly drugged by the smell of her hair, not to mention the feeling of her warm softness pressed to his body. To spare the animal’s strength, he held the horse to a more moderate pace than he’d used on his way to the bazaar. Ardeth thought ruefully that he needed a way to reward his mount for that ride; they’d covered the distance from the Med-jai settlement to the edge of the city in record time. He smiled to himself as he recalled the trip: the other three men stayed with him faithfully for protection in case trouble arose, but he knew they all thought he’d lost his mind. To have their chief go tearing across the desert in pursuit of woman he’d seen only in a dream seemed crazed. While it was true that the Med-jai see many strange things, the strangeness usually came from outside their brotherhood, not within.
Once they’d set out, Ardeth realized the woman’s clothing was not meant for a trip across the dunes. Concerned that she would be severely burned before they reached camp, he wrapped his robe around her for protection. To shield her face, she was keeping it tucked into his tunic. It suddenly occurred to Ardeth that they had been riding for some time and he did not yet know her name, nor she his, for that matter. In the heart-stopping moment when he’d looked into the face of his dream beloved, there had been no need for names. He’d found the woman who had haunted him for three days and nights, and that was all that mattered.
Rubbing the top of her head affectionately with his cheek, Ardeth spoke to her. “Forgive me for my rudeness, little one. I should have introduced myself long before now.”
Jocelyn looked up at him, stunned once more by how handsome he was. His mouth was so very close; those hypnotic, dark eyes were fixed on hers . . . it took all her self-control not to claw the remaining clothes from his chest and start tasting his golden skin. Pulling herself together, she answered, “I know who you are.”
Ardeth was startled. “You do?”
Smiling shyly, she reached up and brushed her fingertips across his face, tracing his forehead and down the elegant nose until they rested lightly on his lips. “Yes . . . you’re my warrior.”
He gave a low chuckle and kissed her fingertips. Joss felt a jolt like an electric shock pass from his lips through her hand and arm, down her body to her center. She nearly whimpered aloud, the need for him was becoming so intense. How much farther did they have to go? Jocelyn had no doubt that he was taking her to his bed; the only question was how long it would be until her dark rider possessed her completely.
“I am a warrior, yes, kalila, but I also have a name. I am Ardeth Bey, of the Med-jai. And you? Who is my mystery woman?”
Savoring the sound of his name, Joss replied faintly, “Jocelyn. Jocelyn Reese. Or . . . Joss.”
Ardeth looked out toward the desert, his expression thoughtful. “Jocelyn. Joss.” He rolled her name around in his mouth like a fine wine, his accent giving it an exotic sound it certainly never had before. Speaking low, he said, “Well, Jocelyn, it is a great delight to meet you when I am awake. For one thing, I am relieved to learn that I still have my reason. But, I most thrilled to know that you are, in fact, not only an angel in my dreams but a woman of flesh and blood.” Brushing his lips across her brow, he pulled her firmly against him in a strong embrace.
Jocelyn shivered. His voice was like a dark, heady wine, flowing into her, touching her in places his hands could not, making her drunk with desire. She’d never wanted a man this much, ever. It was more than a simple urge, it was a need as basic as air and water. She had to feel his hands and mouth on her body, ached to surrender to his touch, to open herself and be taken, claimed, consumed by this man. Joss longed to see him naked, stretched out and ready to be explored by her hands and lips and tongue, yearned to give him pleasure in ways that she’d heard of but never dared do.
Softly, she tried his name for the first time: “Ardeth?”
“Yes?”
“Will it be much longer? Until we’re there?”
He smiled down at her, a smile so full of promised delights that she was grateful for the strong arm holding her safely on the saddle. “Do you know where I’m taking you, my sweet?”
Joss nodded. “To your . . . to someplace we’ll be . . . .” Shyness stopped her.
Ardeth reined the horse to a halt. He lifted a hand to tilt her chin upward, his eyes burning into hers before dropping to her mouth. Joss could barely breathe, the excitement and anticipation almost stopping her heart. He bent low, and his lips touched hers, the barest hint of a kiss. Then he slid his hand to her jaw and pressed his mouth to hers, his warm, strong lips taking their first taste of her. She moaned into the kiss, dizzy, clutching at his tunic to anchor herself. When he released her, Jocelyn still clung to him, eyes closed, swaying slightly.
“Yes, my angel, that is exactly where I’m taking you. And we are nearly there.” Ardeth’s voice was barely more than a breath, all the more devastating for its quiet power. “Look at me,” he commanded softly. Slowly, she raised her lids and met a gaze so charged with passion that she nearly fainted. “You are fortunate that the Med-jai are trained to self-discipline, sweet Jocelyn, or I would have torn off your clothes and ravished you in the sight of the entire bazaar the moment I found you. I have burned for you long enough without being able to satisfy my hunger. Tonight there will be no awaking to an empty bed— tonight, my dreams become real!”
With that, Ardeth took up the reins and urged the horse to a gallop. The sand sprayed away from the pounding hooves and Joss wrapped her arms tightly around the Med-jai. She could feel the hardness of his body through his tunic, the response of his muscles to the movement of the horse. His arm was like a steel band around her body, holding her firmly across thighs which were taut and solid beneath her legs and buttocks. Jocelyn remembered the night before in her bath, touching herself while she tried to visualize what her warrior would look like stripped of those dark robes. The desire she’d felt then was nothing compared to what surged through her now. Feeling the flex and shift of his toned body under and around her was driving her mad—the need to be pinned beneath him, filled by him . . . . His smell surrounded her, spicy and musky and male, and she ached to have that scent all over her, to lie on a bed permeated with it, to drown in it.
Eventually, Joss could hear the sounds of a settlement coming faintly across the desert: peoples’ voices, horses whinnying, the everyday clatter of life. She raised her head and took in her first view of the Med-jai village, although they were too far away to see much. It was situated in an oasis; dark shapes that must be huts or tents were gathered near the life-giving source of shade and water. She strained to see more, wondering what this place would be like and more than a little afraid. Would she be welcomed here—a Western woman among a people quintessentially of the Middle East, a people whose roots were anchored in past millennia?
“What do you think?” Ardeth’s voice startled her. She turned her face upwards, trying to hide her anxiety. “You are afraid of something, kalila. What is it?” Jocelyn glanced down, not sure how to respond. She felt his fingertips on her chin, gently but firmly forcing her to look at him. “Please, my angel. Understand that I will never be harsh with you, that I would cut off my hand before I would raise it against you, but I do expect you to heed me. And, always to answer me when I have asked for an answer. Something is worrying you deeply. Tell me.” His expression was tender but firm, and she discovered one could not meet Ardeth’s eyes and resist him, much less lie to him.
“I . . . it’s just . . . oh, Ardeth—what will your people think of me? Will they hate me? Resent me? I’m so outside of your world, I know they’ll think I don’t belong here, and I . . . .” Jocelyn stopped speaking, not because she’d come to the end of her sentence, but because Ardeth’s mouth was on hers and talking seemed a wholly unnecessary and rather foolish use of her lips compared to what was being offered them now. He dropped the reins to embrace her fully, one arm tight around her waist, the other across her back, his hand cupping her head. His mouth slanted over hers, slowly devouring it. Ardeth sucked her lower lip between his two, nipping it gently before releasing it. He pressed a final, slow kiss to her lips before drawing back just enough to look into her eyes, but they were closed. She lay in his arms, panting softly, head whirling.
“Jocelyn . . . open your eyes.” Once her lids lifted, she found his face just inches from hers, his eyes like black fire, searing her. “Forces larger than we are have given us to each other. How else can you explain that two people who did not know of each other’s existence found one another in a dream? I am the chief of my tribe, and my men know that I set out today to find a woman I had never met, had never seen in life. The three who rode with me were there for protection against the possibility that dark forces were drawing me into a trap. When we set out, they saw me ride straight for the bazaar and straight to where you stood. What I called to them before they rode off was simply, ‘I have found her.’ They knew what I meant. By now, they have told the other Med-jai that my dream, my vision, was true. We have dealt with things unseen for too many centuries to doubt their existence or to deny that much of life is guided by mysteries we don’t fully understand. You will be welcomed, my heart, as the woman the fates have chosen for their leader.”
Sighing with relief, Jocelyn took his face in her hands and kissed him gently. She let her hands slide along the sides of his neck and down his chest, thrilling to the feel of hot, smooth skin over hard muscle. Needing more of him, she began to edge her fingers under his tunic to caress the broad, sculpted expanse of his upper body. Ardeth drew a quick, sharp breath and his hands took hold of her wandering ones, stilling them. “No more now, Jocelyn. I burn as you do, and I long to feel you touch me, but this will be more private and more pleasurable, I promise you, in my tent than out here in the dunes.” Raising her hands, he turned them outward and kissed each palm before tucking her against him once more. A single word from him, and the horse broke into an easy gallop, carrying the couple swiftly towards the village.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A Dream Realized – Chapter 9