Heart of the Desert Read Free

voice, rather sit in crowded bars than find the peace only isolation could bring.
    ‘You prefer cities, then?’ She had made light of it, but his dark eyes were black as they roamed the shadows and when he didn’t answer, Georgie looked out again. ‘It looks like the ocean,’ she said, because it did in the moonlight.
    ‘It once was the ocean,’ Ibrahim said. ‘And it will be again.’ He glanced over at her. ‘Or so they say.’
    ‘They?’
    ‘The tales we are told.’ He gave a shrug. ‘I prefer science. The desert is not for me.’
    ‘But it’s fascinating.’ Georgie said, and they stood silent as she looked out some more. ‘Daunting,’ she said to the silence, and even if she shouldn’t have said any more, after a while Georgie admitted a truth. ‘I worry about Felicity.’
    ‘Your sister is happy.’
    Georgie said nothing. Felicity certainly seemed happy—she had fallen in love with a dashing surgeon, not knowing at the time he was a prince. They were clearly deeply in love and thrilled there was a baby soon on the way, but Felicity did still miss home and struggled sometimes to adjust to all her new family’s ways.
    ‘She wants me to come and live here—to help with the baby and things.’
    ‘She can afford a nanny!’ Ibrahim said, and Georgiegave a tight smile, because she had privately thought the same. Still, in fairness to Felicity it wasn’t the only reason that she wanted her sister close. ‘She wants to …’ Georgie swallowed. Even though conversation came easily there were certain things she did not want to admit—and that her sister wanted to take care of her was one of them.
    ‘She wants to be able to look out for you,’ Ibrahim said, because he had heard about the troubled sister. One who had often run away, her teen years spent in and out of rehab for an eating disorder. Georgie was trouble, Karim had sagely warned.
    Ibrahim chose to decide things for himself.
    And, anyway, he liked trouble.
    ‘Felicity worries about you.’
    ‘Well, she has no need to.’ Georgie’s cheeks burnt, wondering how much he knew.
    ‘She had reason for a while, though. You were very sick. It’s only natural she should be concerned.’ He was direct and for a moment she was defensive, embarrassed, but there was no judgement in his voice, which was rare.
    ‘I’m better now.’ Georgie said. ‘I can’t get it through to her that she doesn’t have to worry any more. You know, the problem with having once had a problem is everyone holding their breath, waiting for it resurface. Like that soup …’ He laughed because he had seen her face when it had been served. ‘It was cold.’
    ‘
Jalik
,’ Ibrahim said, ‘cucumber. It is supposed to be served like that.’
    ‘I’m sure it’s lovely if you’re used to it. And I tried,’ Georgie said. ‘I tried but I couldn’t manage all of it, but even on her wedding day Felicity was watching every mouthful I took and so was Mum. It doesn’t all go back to having an eating disorder—I just don’t like cold cucumber soup.’
    ‘Fair enough.’ Ibrahim nodded.
    ‘And as much as I can’t wait for my sister to have the baby, as much as I’m looking forward to being an aunt, I do not want to be a nanny!’ Georgie admitted. ‘Which is what they would want me to be if I stayed on,’ she added, feeling guilty for voicing her concerns but relieved all the same.
    ‘You would,’ he agreed. ‘Which is fine if being a nanny is your career of choice. Is it, though?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Can I ask what is?’
    ‘I’ve been studying therapeutic massage and aromatherapy. I’ve got a couple more units to do and then I’m hoping to start my own business.
    ‘As well as more study,’ she went on. Told him so easily, told him in far more detail than she had ever told another, about the healing she wanted to do for other women, how massage and oils had helped her when nothing else had. Unlike many people he did not mock her because, even if he did not