Adored in Oman (Book 2 in Teach Me, Love Me Series): Interracial Romance (8 page)

Abdulla woke an hour later, in the exact same position he had fallen asleep. He opened his eyes and stared at Shan. Her thin eyelids covering her eyes, long thick lashes resting on the curve of her cheek bones while she slept, curled toward him.

He reached for her hair and gently pulled one loc to its full length. It covered the space between them like a bridge. He found her hair fascinating. He remembered when he first met her and asked if he could touch it and she told him no. That had been the moment he began to want her. He loved she had boundaries and did not allow anyone to impose on her.

Now, here he was, having sealed his intentions to make her his. His gaze wandered over her face and form, taking in the slope of her shoulders, the varying shades of her skin, evidence of a summer spent poolside. He admired her soft skin, running a hand along the side of her body, curving around her hip and down her thigh. After he had admired her from head to toe, he looked back to see her eyes were open.

Shan drifted to awareness. The soft touch of Abdulla’s hand running across her skin had been enough to bring her back to the present moment. She opened her eyes to find herself being studied with an affectionate and admiring gaze.

When they made eye contact he said, “You’re beautiful.”

Whispering, “Thank you.”

“You know this?” he asked.

“My parents made sure of it,” she smiled as she responded.

“I have to go; it wouldn’t do for your neighbors to see my car here in the morning,” Abdulla sighed, somewhat grumpily.

“I know. It will be noon before you know it. We have another party tomorrow and then we leave for Al Ain the day after, we have hours to spend in the next few days,” Shan soothed.

With that, Abdulla rose to dress. She curled up on the bed and watched him put all his clothes back on his beautiful frame. First, Abdulla donned his underwear, then pants, shirt, belt, sandals and watch. Shan watched as his strong legs, dusted with fine hair disappeared from view. She sighed when he slid a shirt over his broad, strong chest and pulled it over his flat, firm belly. He wasn’t a bag of muscle stuffed skin, but it was all very pleasing and firm. Also, he was strong. She wouldn’t soon forget the way he had thrown her over his shoulder. That had been kind of hot.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I will take it all off again and by the time I’m done with you, the neighbors will be breakfasting,” Abdulla told her.

Grinning, Shan winked at him and said, “Can I help it if you are exceedingly pleasing to my eyes?”

Sitting next to her, Abdulla leaned his forehead to hers and said, “Rest. I will see you at noon.” Then he kissed her and just as it started to get out of hand, he collected his self-control. “Good night, habbibti.”

Shan trailed him to the door, wrapped in a throw blanket she had rescued from the floor where it had been flung during their passionate encounter and locked the door behind him. Then, she floated back to her bedroom and fell asleep the moment she receive the text that he made it home safely.

The morning came as it always did, early. The sun was her usual assertive self, shining in windows all over Muscat, uncaring that many had the day off and were hoping to sleep a little later than usual. Shan was used to the impertinent sun and always slept with a mask on or nearby. When dawn first crept slyly into her window she pulled the mask on so she could enjoy her late morning.

At the respectably late hour of ten, Shan rose and checked her messages. All was good back home, her mother had texted to see how she was and friends, old and new, had inquired about her uncharacteristic silence and absence. One had even asked, “Who is he?”

Aloud she said, “Nosy,” before starting her routine. She showered, changed her sheets, dressed and made herself a lovely ‘I Have the Day Off’ breakfast. She had just finished the dishes and was about to enjoy her tea as she waited on Abdulla to arrive, when she heard someone at the door.

Curious, but unsurprised, the teachers who lived nearby often popped by at the beginning of a walk to see if she wanted to go with them.

She opened the door and saw two of the neighbor’s children.

“Eid Mubarak,” the girls said, in unison as they offered her a little basket with sweets and three tiny bottles of hand mixed scented oils. Shan often bought oils from their mother, as she mixed her own and sold them.

Thrilled, Shan leaned down and hugged the girls. “Thank you so much. Wait one moment.”

Turning to her prepped goodie bags, she handed each girl one and said, “Eid Mubarak.” Happy to have completed their errand and with their unexpected treat, the girls went away chattering excitedly, their “Shukkran’s” trailing behind as they went home.

Abdulla had just parked and witnessed the exchange. He was touched by her thoughtfulness. He had been up earlier, delivering the baskets and coolers to their staff members who had the day off. His parents were already on their way to Al Ain. They knew he would be a day behind. His father had given him a firm look and said, “Make sure you come to Al Ain. Don’t stay in Muscat and be naughty because you think we won’t know what you are up to while we are away visiting.”

Abdulla laughed, but assured his father he had no intention of doing any such thing. Watching Shan with the girls, made Abdulla wonder if she was interested in children. He would like to have at least three, but he had no idea what her thoughts were on the matter. Climbing out of his vehicle, he determined to ask her.

Shan had no sooner shut her door and sipped her tea than she heard Abdulla’s familiar knock. He always knocked just once. She asked him why and he said, “You flat is not that big. If I knock more than once you may think a mad man is at your door.”

Sighing and resigning herself to never finishing the tea, she opened the door smiling. After exchanging kisses on both cheeks, he stepped inside, where after the door was closed he got a much hotter kiss with lots of tongue and busy hands.

Breathlessly, Shan said, “Would you want some tea before we go?”

Abdulla grabbed her bottom with both hands and pulled her higher on her toes and asked, “Does it feel like I want tea? I want; but, not tea.”

Shan smiled and said, “That’s all you are going to get at noon on a Tuesday. The neighbors, remember?”

Sighing, Abdulla leaned his head against her door and said, “Yes, your neighbors and their impressionable children delivering gifts.”

“You saw them?”

“Yes, I saw them and I saw you. That was lovely,” he said, running his hands over her head and down to the ends of her locs.

“You’re petting me,” she said.

“I know. I love it; I want to wrap myself up in all this hair. It’s so soft and smells so good,” he said as he leaned in to nuzzle her neck.

“It’s time to go, we are expected.”

“I know. What do I need to put in my car?” he asked.

“I’m just taking brownies and gift bags for the children. If you take the basket with the gifts I will grab the brownies.”

They made their way to the party and Shan had to threaten to smack Abdulla’s hands when he kept trying to sneak a brownie.

“They smell like chocolate heaven!” he insisted. “You should let me taste one.”

“No, you’ve had these brownies before, I will make sure to set aside two for you once we get there, but I want it to arrive with the entire tray intact,” she insisted.

He gave her the side-eye, but let her take it. He pouted a little bit.

They arrived to great fanfare. There were children and family all over. The men had a corner of the house and the ladies had another with children floating freely between the two. The brownies were a hit! So was Abdulla. Zeinab was just thrilled to see her American friend with a suitor.

“So, will you marry?” Zeinab asked Shan as soon as Abdulla had been escorted off to the men’s lounge.

“What?!” Shan was stunned, “Um, he hasn’t asked, I don’t think so.”

“He came with you here. He is going to ask and you said you have been to his mother’s home more than once. He is going to ask!” Zeinab insisted.

“I don’t know. I might. I’m not sure. You stressing me out, go tend to your other guests!” Shan told her.

“No. You are the only woman here who needs a husband! I must tend to you first!” Zeinab said right back.

“I can’t do anything with you today. I am moving to the buffet. Where are the fruit juices?” and with that Shan escaped a conversation she wasn’t really ready to have.

The day went great. Shan and Abdulla periodically checked on each other in the hallway, but Zeinab or her husband was always hovering nearby to shoo them away from one another. Shan thought it was kind of sweet how protective they were being of her and felt comforted. It reminded her of how her mom would have been.

Clearly, Zeinab was too young to be her mother, but she was a mother and felt Shan needed someone to keep an eye on her. Even Zeinab knew there was some hurt in the past, but every time she saw Shan with children, she knew there was a mother’s heart there. Zeinab intended to make sure this Abdulla did the right thing. There would be no raised eyebrows here.

When the sky finally fell dark, Abdulla and Shan said their thanks and goodbyes. Zeinab told Abdulla he better invite them to the wedding while Shan was hugging the children. Abdulla told her, “As soon as I convince Shan.”

“Convince me of what?” Shan asked.

“That I am a prince among men,” he told her.

“I don’t have to be convinced, I already know this,” and off Shan went, headed for the car.

“That was easy,” Abdulla said looking at Zeinab with a sly smile.

Zeinab was laughing. She had a feeling Shan had met her match. Good. A sassy woman needs a cheeky man.

Shan and Abdulla had been on the road for a total of fifteen minutes and she was already blinking slowly. The second time her head jerked forward, he pulled a red card from the console and said, “Foul.”

She said, “What?”

Abdulla told her, “You are violating the rules of the passenger contract. If you are riding shotgun, you should be the DJ, map reader, juice and snack opener and joke teller to keep me alert.”

“There are
rules
to riding shotgun?” she gasped.

“Yes. On any trip that is longer than one hour, the passenger riding shotgun is required to earn the spot. Back seat passengers can go to sleep. I am no chauffer, so you can’t climb in the back. Now, open my juice, woman.”

“Please.”

Grinning, Abdulla obliged her, “Please.”

Shan opened the juice, put it in the holder and added a straw.

“Only women drink out of straws.”

“Are you serious? That doesn’t even make any sense, Abood!”

“I will never drink out of a straw. It is unmanly.”

“Unmanly!” Shan was dying laughing.

“How is it unmanly to drink from a straw? I am not able to have this conversation with you. You are so silly.”

“Men drink from the rim of the cup. Only women are afraid of hidden germs. Hot water kills everything.”

Crossing her arms, Shan leaned back and asked, “So what other things do you believe are unmanly?”

“I can’t just say every unmanly thing. I know it when I see it.”

“So, it changes according to your mood, is what you are saying,” Shan flippantly stated.

“No, if an act is unmanly, it is always unmanly, not just sometimes.”

“For example, I do not lick my fingers in public. That is unmanly. Only children lick their fingers in public.

“Oh, really,” Shan was intrigued. She found his thinking fascinating and really was interested in his views on manhood.

“What other opinions do you have about manhood? Since it currently appears you are an expert.”

“To start,” Abdulla started, “men do what they say they will and communicate truthfully. They also clean themselves regularly. Only boys are always dirty. Once a boy has hair under his arms, he must be intentionally clean.”

“I can’t argue with any of that. Being dependable, honest, and clean are traits I definitely would not be willing to live without.”

“Men must also pray, because all wisdom comes from God.”

That took Shan by surprise, she knew Abood prayed. He is required to do so five times a day. She had just never thought about how he felt about prayer.

“So, praying brings wisdom?” she asked.

“If your heart is right and you are not reckless; prayer can be useful for many things. It lightens the heart, reassures the mind and warns you when there is trouble ahead. A man who wishes to be wise needs all of that. He is, after all, the guardian of his home and all in it. A man, who does not pray, may not be trusted. He is making all his decisions without guidance.”

Listening to Abdulla, Shan reflected on the years of her childhood and how her parents often prayed. They blessed meals, her before school, trips before they left home and the more she thought about what he said, the more she liked it. Shan also found prayer reassuring. She wasn’t a Bible thumper; she was comfortable with her belief set and wasn’t looking for a new religion. However, she liked that he prayed and took it seriously. She did too.

“I prayed a lot when I was divorcing Jack,” she said just as Abdulla was about to ask her why she was so quiet. Silently nodding for her to continue, Abdulla listened.

“I felt so angry. I was sad. I was surprised that our marriage had failed so quickly. I always thought marriages that failed; fell apart after a decade or longer of neglect. We were still very new, it seemed to me. Certainly we were too new for the mess that broke us. I was confused and wondered what I did wrong. I wondered why he chose someone who worked with me. It was as if he didn’t think about me at all. Which in turn made me wonder, how I married a man who could dismiss me and my feelings so easily? What had I missed?”

Abdulla waited to see if she would say more and when it seemed she would not, he offered his view.

“You can ask those questions. It is understandable. I can imagine your confusion. I have no idea how I would have responded to such a situation. I can only hope I would have the grace and dignity you demonstrated. I fear I would have thrown things, shouted insults and attacked the man I found in my home. But, I don’t think it was really about you. I think he felt lacking in some way.”

Shan listened, as Abdulla continued.

“So, he looked for what he was missing inside. It probably didn’t have as much to do with you as with him. A man doesn’t do something so desperate and reckless, usually. When they blame the cheating on the wife, they go to great lengths to hide it because they are punishing her. Taking that woman to your home suggests he wasn’t really hiding. He was revealing. He was telling himself he was a risk taker. He was saying to himself, he was not this married, responsible man. He wasn’t necessarily dismissing you as much as the notion of a marriage. He was telling himself he didn’t like his life.”

More slowly, as if he was trying to choose the right words, “Also, if she knew you, she was cheating
with
him but angry with
you
. Something is off there. Envious, sly, manipulative, and angry people like that are dangerous. You never mentioned her, so I assume you haven’t seen or spoken to her either. She might be a problem. She has never gotten a chance to gloat or mock or whatever it is she was looking to do, back then.”

Shan wanted to reject his comments, but it was actually freeing to think maybe it wasn’t about her. Maybe, Jack had been working through something he couldn’t share and just took the path of least resistance. That was worth some reflection. As for Carmen, ugh, she hated even thinking of her.

“I don’t know. We never had any type of heated disagreement at work. We actually worked well together and made a lot of money for the company. She was very different from me, but I never noticed her to be especially acerbic. She was flippant, but so was I. We had thick skin. Still. You have a point. Who does that? Not just the cheating but, the whole staring me down during the act…that was odd. It was like a contest. I couldn’t look away, it was the end of something, and I had to watch. I don’t know what her motivation was.”

Abdulla simply said, “All I’m saying is if you are ever in her presence, for whatever reason, please be on guard. She is dangerous.”

With that, they moved on to happier topics and continued their road trip to Al Ain, Abu Dhabi with laughter and conversation that revealed to each of them, they were in the right place, at the right time, with the right person.