Page 23 of The Sheikh's Temporary Girlfriend

Everyone hurried to their camel of choice, and Maram was left with no option but to mount the very last saddled camel, the pack-camels right behind her. With her white abaya and its lace trim, along with her matching hijab, she’d probably look more sandy-yellow than pristine-white by the end of the ride.

Basam clasped Amber’s hand and led her toward his camel, where he showed her which foot to put into the stirrup iron before getting her to swing her other leg over until she sat comfortably in the back of the saddle. Doing the same in front of her, he turned a little in the saddle and said to her, “When the camel begins to get up, lean way back in the saddle so that you don’t tip forward.

Her surfing skills no doubt helped with her balance as she rocked back and then forward with the motion of the camel, while gripping the handhold in front. That Basam was directly in front of her also gave her greater confidence.

Though it was hot, the trek across the desert was no more than thirty minutes before the desert gave way to spindly trees and rocky ground. It greened up quickly once they navigated around trees and shrubs, with the loamy, earth scent becoming more prevalent and the increasing overhead shade cooling the searing air.

The sound of running water reached her ears minutes before they came to a big pool of water, where a waterfall cascaded into it from the far end of a rocky cliff edge and clumps of date palms reached high into the sky and threw out welcome shade.

She gaped.Thiswasn’t what she’d expected! “Wow!”

Basam turned back to her and grinned. “I thought you might like it. If you know where to look, water can be found anywhere, even in the desert.”

He turned his camel along a sandy path where there was plenty of shade from the trees, then got the camel to drop onto its haunches on command. The rest of the camels followed, allowing their riders to dismount.

Basam climbed off first, then reached out to help her off. She stumbled a little and he caught her, his eyes glinting as he looked down at her and said, “Careful, sunshine.”

She smiled up at him, but pulled away at the malicious stare coming from behind. Maram.Ugh.That woman was a killjoy. She glanced down the line of camels and immediately found her. She looked wilted, sandy and infuriated.

Not the best combination.

Amber sent her a sunny smile, one that would no doubt piss her off a whole lot more, but she couldn’t worry about the other woman’s feelings. Amber was still too busy sorting out her own.

Basam soon enough directed everyone to help unload the pack camels, and though some of the guests grumbled under their breaths that it was a servant’s job to do the menial work, many more looked happy to have half-a-day enjoying the outdoors with some of their closest friends.

Soon enough there were blankets on the ground with hampers set up in the middle. Cutlery, cups and plates came out next, along with bottles of water, wine and date arak. Fruit, salad, pita breads, cheeses and cold meats were unpacked last before everyone sat and filled their cups with their drink of choice.

Amber sat next to Basam, refusing to let it bother her when Maram took a seat on Basam’s other side. If he was interested in the other woman he would have married her. He definitely wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of setting up this fake girlfriend scenario.

So why did every husky laugh that came out of Maram’s lush mouth make Amber’s blood simmer? And why did Maram’s every adoring, sideward gaze at Basam cause Amber’s blood pressure to rise?

Everyone soon filled their plates with food and enjoyed the outdoor feast, their conversations becoming muted while the sun began to slowly fall toward the horizon.

“Would you care for another wine?” Basam asked.

Amber nodded. “Please.”

He poured it into her tin cup. “My apologies that it’s not in a fancy crystal glass, but I’m sure you can appreciate why.”

“No apologies necessary,” she said. “I like being a barbarian with you.”

“I like it too,” he admitted softly, lifting a hand then to brush some sand off her cheek. “You don’t need a palace, fine clothes and jewels to be happy.”

She smiled up at him. “Guess I’m a simple girl at heart.”

Maram snorted, as though wholeheartedly agreeing. But suddenly Amber cared less about what the other woman thought, though she wasn’t entirely sure if it was the wine or Basam’s wholehearted attention that swayed her mindset.

Amber didn’t need to play pretend when she sent him an adoring smile. Even knowing their partnership was fake, her heart sung every time he fed her a piece of succulent meat or fruit, his voice throaty as he murmured, “Try some of this.” Or, “You’ve got to taste this.”

Maram’s good mood evaporated as she became withdrawn and angry. Amber bit her lip, guilt souring her joy at realizing the other woman really was in love with Basam, though whether it had anything to do with him being a sheikh was debatable.

Swallowing another mouthful of wine, she leaned forward to peer around Basam and ask Maram, “Do you mind if we chat…in private?”

Maram’s gaze narrowed, then she nodded and said coolly, “Of course.”

They stood and walked away from Basam and his guests who were still busy eating and intermittently conversing, but Amber was aware of Basam’s eyes on her back as she and Maram headed around the pool of water toward the waterfall. Its spray brought welcome relief from the heat, while the noise of rushing water hopefully drowned out their conversation from the others.

Amber turned toward Maram. “I know you don’t approve of Basam being with a western woman—“

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