Girl in the Bedouin Tent

As he drew her in, close within the curve of his arm, every sense confirmed her identity.

How could a woman he barely knew feel so familiar? It wasn’t merely that she fitted perfectly, tucked under his chin, her arms snaking around his waist as if for support. It was something indefinable that stirred unaccustomed sensations.

A need to protect. A desire to comfort.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes.’ Her voice was a hoarse gasp that tore at his control. He felt the heat of her heavy breathing through the fine cotton of his clothes and pulled her in tighter.

Nevertheless she stood stiffly, as if poised to repel further attack, every straining muscle tense.

This woman was brave to the point of being foolhardy.

‘What possessed you to leave the tent?’ She knew there were guards. That she’d be stopped if they saw her.

‘It was so late I thought you weren’t coming back.’

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