Page 62 of Under the Arabian Sky

Tears welled in my eyes. “But… but I thought I always belonged to you.”

Andrew simply smiled and reached out to touch my cheek. “I’m sorry I left you when I did. It was never my intention, but hey, I guess the universe had other plans for you and me. It’s time for you to let me go. It’s time for you to move on. You are a sand dune, Arthur. Your journey’s not over yet. You still have so much love to give. Don’t let it go to waste. Give it all… give it all to him.”

I followed Andrew’s gaze to Tariq.

He was breathing steadily now, a peaceful look on his handsome, unconscious face.

Suddenly he opened his eyes. “Arthur?”

I turned quickly from him to Andrew and Cavendish… but they were gone.

There was nobody in the courtyard of the old fort now except me and Tariq and the two camels.

I looked back to Tariq. “Are you all right? How do you feel?”

He tried to sit up and I helped him, leaning his back against a wall. “I feel tired, but otherwise… What happened? The last thing I remember, I released Mahir’s falcon. That’s when I saw the sky filling with sand. We tried to outrun the storm but…”

“It’s okay. The storm’s over, you’re safe now.”

“But I thought… I thought you were leaving. You were catching a plane out of Oman.”

I shrugged and smiled. “I guess I missed it.”

He looked at me uncertainly. “Perhaps you’ll be able to catch the next one.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think there’ll be a next one.”

He laughed with relief and leaned in to kiss me.

As our lips parted, he whispered, “So does that mean you’ll stay?” A tear streaked down his sand-dusted cheek. “Please stay.”

I couldn’t hold back my own tears any longer. I smiled as they slipped down my face. “You know what they say… tame the desert, and she will forever be your home.”

He wrapped his arms around me.

He squeezed me tight with his love.

He pressed his lips to mine.

And there we stayed, huddled in each other’s arms, until it was time for Huda and Habibi to carry us home.

CHAPTER22

The enginesof the plane began to whir as the aircraft sat at the start of the runway, ready for take-off.

Sitting in the window seat, Tariq took my hand and held it tight. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” I nodded.

“Anxious?”

“Yes.”

“Scared?”

“No.”

“Really?”

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