Page 14 of Under the Arabian Sky

“I’m afraidyouwere the one driving too fast up the dune.”

“I was trying not to get bogged in the sand.”

“I think getting bogged would be preferable to the alternative.” He was the one who pointed to the Land Cruiser this time. “I was driving as safely as I possibly could. I have precious cargo inside my Jeep.”

I suddenly remembered the items I’d brought with me: my camera and Cavendish’s charts. “Speaking of which, there’s things in that Land Cruiser I need.”

I started to hobble back to the overturned vehicle, but Tariq pulled me back gently. “Stay here. I’ll get them.”

He made sure I was okay to stand on my own two feet, then returned to the wreckage, clambered in through the open door and returned with my camera and a handful of charts. “Is this what you need?”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He handed them to me. “Wait here. I’ll drive my Jeep down the dune, so you don’t have to climb it. Sand makes walking all the more difficult.”

“Trust me, I know a thing or two about sand.”

“With your driving skills you could have fooled me.” He laughed again as he headed up the dune.

I chuckled to myself. “Oh really,” I muttered under my breath, watching him hoist up his gown and confidently take on the dune. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you.” I winced again as my ribs hurt simply from breathing.

A minute later, Tariq’s Jeep appeared over the top of the dune. He carefully navigated his descent, sending small landslides of sand shifting down the dune before he reached the foot of it and pulled up beside me.

He kept the engine running as he climbed out of the vehicle, opened the passenger door, and helped me onto the seat. I gave a small groan as I tried to reach for the seatbelt.

“Here, let me do that.”

He pulled the seatbelt across me and leaned all the way over my lap.

I could smell his cologne, the masculine scent of sandalwood mixed with something much more delicate and feminine. Jasmine, perhaps.

I inhaled discreetly, careful not to upset my bruised ribcage or let him know I was trying to take in his scent.

I heard the click of the seatbelt as he fastened it.

Yes, definitely jasmine.

He leaned back. “Are you comfortable?”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll have you back in Muscat in no time. There’s just one thing I have to do first.” He closed my door and made his way around to the driver’s side.

Inside the car I realised how effective a functioning air conditioning unit truly was and took a moment to cherish the coolness.

He opened his door and climbed in, when from the backseat there suddenly came the most deafening, eardrum-piercing screech I’d ever heard in my life.

“Holy fuck! What was that?” I shrieked, turning sharply and agitating the hell out of my ribs to see a large cage on the backseat. In it was a bird with a hood over its eyes.

No, not just a bird… a huge bird.

No, not just a huge bird… an eagle.

“You’ve got a fucking eagle in your car?”

“It’s not an eagle.”

Correction, the huge bird was not an eagle.

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