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Lisa Torquay - The Lady and the Desert Scoundrel

Lisa Torquay - The Lady and the Desert Scoundrel

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Published by Lisa Torquay

Lady Lucinda Lancefield is visiting her former school mate in Sicily, on a so dreamed of trip before she chooses an insipidly suitable suitor to get married, as her parents wish. While there, she meets explosively attractive, irritatingly arrogant Tariq Al-Fadih. Suddenly, she's abducted and swept away to the desert with the scoundrel himself. And it proves increasingly difficult to resist the fiery sensations he stokes in her. Tariq is focused on his tasks at hand in Sicily, as a wealthy merchant, when a blisteringly rebellious English lady crosses his path. He's on a quest for atonement against an ex-associate, planning to abduct his daughter to achieve that. But his men make a mistake and bring that infuriatingly beautiful woman instead. As they cross the desert, Tariq is less and less capable of resisting her allures, as passion threatens to burst, sending his cares to the desert winds.

Lady Lucinda Lancefield is visiting her former school mate in Sicily, on a so dreamed of trip before she chooses an insipidly suitable suitor to get married, as her parents wish. While there, she meets explosively attractive, irritatingly arrogant Tariq Al-Fadih. Suddenly, she's abducted and swept away to the desert with the scoundrel himself. And it proves increasingly difficult to resist the fiery sensations he stokes in her. Tariq is focused on his tasks at hand in Sicily, as a wealthy merchant, when a blisteringly rebellious English lady crosses his path. He's on a quest for atonement against an ex-associate, planning to abduct his daughter to achieve that. But his men make a mistake and bring that infuriatingly beautiful woman instead. As they cross the desert, Tariq is less and less capable of resisting her allures, as passion threatens to burst, sending his cares to the desert winds.

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Published by: Lisa Torquay on Feb 02, 2013
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09/11/2015

They reached Tunis that afternoon. From that far, it certainly didn’t look like a village,
Lucinda thought. It was big, with high minarets sprinkled all over it. Against the blue sky, it
seemed beautiful.

The landscape had been changing steadily, since they left, this morning. Greener, scattered
bushes at first, and higher trees in the last hour, the air acquired a salty tang. And now, up
the hills that out-skirted the city, she saw it. She deduced it was Tariq’s hometown because
they’d been travelling steadily north. There’d be no bigger city in that area.

Suddenly, she wished she found a way to send a letter to Mrs Croft so that she wouldn’t
worry so much. For this, she’d naturally need Tariq’s help, since she didn’t know if there was
a post system here. She suspected he wouldn’t allow it, though.

Sometime later, they entered the city south gate, through the medieval wall. It was like
immersing in another world. Throngs of people, horses, camels, goats circulated up and
down the tortuous streets. A tight mess of narrow two-store buildings elevated from those
streets. Many had shops on the ground-floor, with canvas canopies hanging from the walls.

The caravan strove forward, a mixture of smells in the air: spice, fruit, dung, camel. Lucinda
watched the city unfold before her amazed. Men and women, in their usual garb, passed by
in a feast of colours. A cacophony of vendors’ shouts, men talking, barks and children,
together with the sound of music coming from somewhere, was audible.

After a while, the hustle and bustle of the city was left behind and a quieter and more
spacious area came into view. The caravan halted in front of an enormous two-store
building. It was whitewashed, with a huge dome in the centre. The front wall had arched
doors, one of them wide, leading to an internal yard. This one had a canvas canopy hanging
form it.

Tariq dismounted and helped her do the same. He opened the wide door. “Welcome to my
humble abode.” And motioned for her to go in.

Lucinda fought not to gape. The yard was gigantic, with a private caravanserai, where he
probably kept his camels and goods. Gardens and palm trees everywhere. To the right, an
arched veranda led to the villa itself.

Tariq gave instructions to his men and accompanied her inside, carrying his and her canvas
sacs. Inside, tiled floors and walls, domed high ceilings and ample spaces sheltered a sitting
room with rugs and cushions and an aired kitchen. She didn’t see anybody, but she
suspected there were servants and that they were probably carrying out other tasks at the
moment.

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She followed him when he climbed up the stairs and came in a bedroom that looked more
like a ballroom. Tiled and arched columns, it had a king size low four-posted bed with
diaphanous curtains around it.

“Please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be shortly back.” He turned and left.

She walked around, windows on three walls, all arched and latticed. Light came from
everywhere and the air was fresh. The place was magnificent. When Adriana mentioned it,
she didn’t have the slightest idea it could be like this. From one of the windows, the sea
opened in its deep-blue vastness. Another revealed a market; they were not far from the
busy cobwebbed medieval centre.

Lucinda left the room and wandered around. There were a couple of other rooms besides
that one and she found a library. She entered it. The arches were filled with shelves full of
books in many languages; Arabic, French, English, Italian. She was fascinated. Rugs and
cushions on the floor made the room look comfortable and cosy at the same time. She
picked a book and sat on the cushions to read.

“I knew I’d find you here.” She heard his velvety voice not long after she’d started reading.

She lifted her head from the book and looked into his glorious cognac-against-fire eyes. “It’s
an extraordinary library!”

He nodded pleased. “I got a taste for books from my French and Scottish tutors. I started

this collection during school days, but I inherited some from my father and grand-father as

well.”

The small talk ended abruptly, as both of them stared at each other. A lightning of fire
crossed her body with his searing gaze.

He extended his hand to her. “Come, I want to show you something.”

She took his hand, stood up and followed him.

He led her through the corridor to the back of the second floor. A large arched door
revealed a bath. A huge tiled pool of warm water was sided by arches; tiled floor and walls,
large wet steps at one border. Light came from the latticed windows and the room smelled
of peppermint and sandalwood. A pile of washcloths and towels stood nearby

“This is my private bath.” His voice hoarse as he turned to her and his hands came to her
hair. “You can use it whenever you want.” His fingers started un-braiding it. His cognac eyes
were misted as he watched her hair come loose.

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She looked up at him mesmerized. “Thank you.” Was all she could murmur because his tall,
broad-shouldered frame stood so close, she saw his stubbed mouth and wanted to taste it.

His fingers merged in her strands and the other hand circled the nape of her neck. She
gulped air as his mouth came down on hers in a demanding kiss.

Impatience had dominated Tariq as the caravan was unloaded and goods and camels found
tidiness. It took damn too long for him to be free to come to her.

Lucinda opened to him, allowing him to take everything he wanted. She froze into place as
the fiery sensation raided her body. And then he lifted his head and their eyes crossed. He
undressed her tunic and pantaloons. She did the same with him. His aroused body displayed
its utter impressiveness and she appreciated it with her eyes. Her entire skin prickled, eager
for his touch.

He took her hand and pulled her to the water. They descended the stairs to the pool. They
were received by the deliciously warm water. Reaching for flasks and washcloths, he

moistened the cloth and poured oil on it. “Peppermint, like your eyes.” His hoarse murmur

seemed to lace the water that caressed her.

His body touched hers and his erection nudged her waist at the same time the washcloth
slid from her neck to her shoulder and reached her full pebbled breast. She moaned, limp,
leaning against the pool wall, in total delight under his ministrations. His mouth covered
hers again and the cloth didn’t stop moving everywhere, leaving heat in its wake. Her wet
arms went about his neck and she let him do to her what he wished, so surrendered she
was. And he did. Kiss, after boiling kiss and his open mouth going down, licking and nipping
the curve of her neck, her shoulder, her chest. His arms locked around her waist to hook her
up and capture her breast, his other hand splayed on her pert buttock. She held his
shoulders as her head fell down in delectation, her moisten hair about her.

“Lucinda,” he rasped, “I can’t get enough of you!” Her other breast contemplated.

Good, neither could she, a hazy answer in her bugged mind. Their bodies touched tightly, his
burgeoning desire pressing between them, while her fingers rejoiced in his obsidian sleek
hair, still dry.

His hands spanned her narrow waist, sat her on the boarder and his mouth came hungry to
her core. She moaned with the torture and her melted spine lay on the tiled floor, hands on
his hair, feet on his shoulders, curling. His lips, his tongue, his teeth took her to madness.

“Tariq…please!” She didn’t want him to finish, she wanted to be filled by him.

He pulled her back to the water and lay her face down on the shallow first steps at the
border.

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“Tariq, what are you…?” And she groaned when he entered her in a long, slow, delightful

stroke.

“Lucinda,” his velvety voice caressed the back of her ear, “I want to teach you every way a
man and a woman can find satisfaction.” He pushed again and was rewarded by her gasp,
his body all glued on hers, her waist-long dripping hair floating in the water. His hand
tortured her breast in the most tantalizing way.

The shallow water lapped over them, intensifying the sensations. He drove once more and
the pleasure was so intense, Lucinda arched her spine and opened more for his access.

“Yes, jewel, you’re a quick study.” His hand sneaked under her to tease her core.

Lucinda went into a delirium of pleasure, arching more, her head thrown up as she gasped.
But Tariq insisted on his pursuit, thrusting determinedly, fingers rolling, and driving her to
desperation.

She couldn’t take it any longer. It felt like a volcano erupting, heat spread through her,

hotter and hotter and exploded in concentric waves shattering her as she cried helplessly.

Lucinda’s pleasure cries, mingled with her squeezing him as he plunged deeper and deeper,
increasing his urge. He moved blindly and repeatedly. He thrust the deepest, grunting; and
poured hot gushes, inundating her with his release. He fell on her spent, keeping their
bodies joined, her head on his forearm. The waving water caressed their satiated bodies and
they remained like this for a long time.

At some point, Lucinda had turned and they were facing each other. Tariq grazed her wet
skin with his stubbed face, she held him by his back, revelling in his smooth skin and hard
muscles.

She brushed her lips over his shoulder. “Tariq,” His name in her murmur, with her British

accent was unique.

“Hm.” His hand delineated her side under the water.

“How else can we do this?” She’d found his olive nipple and licked it.

He groaned with her stroke. “Heavens, Lucinda!” He palmed her hips. “You’ll be the end of
me.” He sat up. “Here.” His back leaning on the other border, he made her come to his lap
astride. The water waved around them.

His intention was only to demonstrate to her, but then her breasts came to his eyes level
and he held her hips, her eyes on him, curious. His body reacted immodestly. There was no
resisting taking her breast in his mouth again. When she moaned, he was lost.

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Lucinda had enough imagination to understand what he wanted to show. She looked at his
cognac eyes and lower. He hardened even more under her scrutiny. “Tariq!” She marvelled.

So he answered her question in a very clear way.

Much later, bathed and dressed, they sat on the cushions in the big room downstairs.
Before them a banquet of scented delicacies, which they ate with their fingers. Servants
served the food and hot tea, being the first time Lucinda saw them.

“How do you heat the water in the bath?” Lucinda asked after she’d tried a delicious flat
bread with vegetables. She was dressing one of the tunic sets he’d bought for her in one of
the villages. This one was bright green with simple but beautiful embroidery around the
neckline.

Tariq moistened his bread in the vegetables spicy sauce. He dressed one of his white
kaftans and sirwaal, his obsidian hair wet and shiny. “There is a hot spring under this
terrain. We discovered it by chance and then we used it for the bath.” He smiled at her

curiosity.

She took a sip of tea, taking her eyes from him. His smile was so absolutely appealing, that it
made his features utterly magnetic. He should do it more times. With his men he usually

behaved carefree and she’d heard him smile and laugh during the trip through the desert.

But never to her, unless one counted those sardonic lopsided smirks a smile.

“Are you enjoying your food?” She had become suddenly silent.

“Oh, very much. Thank you.” She took another bite. “I’d like to know what Adriana’s father
did to you.” Her eyes searched him. “You never mentioned it.”

Remembering his quest with Graziani wasn’t the most pleasant subject after the bath they’d
shared, he thought. “We had dealings for many years, as he had with my father. Then I
discovered he’d been dishonest from the time my father passed.” His father had always told
him he could trust Pietro and Tariq never cared to check their agreements thoroughly. “He’d
been stealing and blaming me to the other merchants.” His cognac eyes, lit by the lamps’

glow, darkened with revolt.

Lucinda saw how the people in the villages respected him. He sold his goods at a fair price
and bought their handicrafts at reasonable rates, without exploiting their work. Adriana’s
father’s fraud must have been hard on him. “That’s a serious disloyalty.”

“I agree. It took me a long time to clean my name and be able to build up a solid trade
again.” Talking about what led him to figure an atonement plan, made him face the fact that
he needed to decide what to do about her now. They’d reached his home and he’d planned
to take her back when his trade in the desert was over. He had time, as he didn’t lead his

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caravan during the hottest summer months. This was before, well, before everything. Now

he didn’t want her gone; he wanted her there with him, in his bed, in his life, in his arms.
Until this…this fever had left his blood. There wasn’t a sign that it’d be any soon. He couldn’t
stand the simple possibility of her gone, let alone take her back himself. No, oh no! She was

here and she’d remain here. The rest be damned!

That cool, starred night, Tariq held Lucinda close to his strong warm body, under the
blankets. Not even in his nightmares he wanted her gone.

Lucinda took some time to sleep, despite the fact that she was extremely tired. His bed was
so comfortable, it felt like a nest. Added to the fact that he snuggled her tight, she felt safe
and warm. She just revelled in it. She didn’t want to think. She only wanted to engrave this
content moment in her memory. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

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