One Hot Desert Night by Kristi Gold Page B

asked when they met a crossroads.
    “To your right.”
    Once they emerged from the passageway, she turned to him and smiled. “We’re back where we started.”
    “Yes, we are.”
    She snapped off the flashlight. “Any chance we can have lunch now? I’m really, really hungry.”
    As he was, but not only for food. “I suppose I could accommodate you.”
    “Gee, thanks. I’d hate to start foraging for wild berries since I doubt I’ll find any.”
    “Berries actually are a possibility.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell me we’re about to trek through the desert to pick berries.”
    She brought about his smile that arrived more often in her presence. “No need for that. Now if you will follow me, I will bring our meal to you.”
    “Gladly.”
    He guided her around the bank of the aquifer and across the small wooden bridge he had built with his own hands. Once they reached his private quarters, he told her, “Wait here, and I shall return shortly.”
    “Hurry,” she called out to him as he entered the bunker. “Or I’m going for the granola bars I brought with me.”
    He strode into the supply room to retrieve the container housing their meals. After he returned to Sunny, he nodded toward the pair of large crimson pillows next to the bed. “We will sit here to dine.”
    Sunny lowered herself onto the cushion and crossed her legs before her. “I’ve heard of breakfast in bed, but never lunch next to the bed. So what’s on the menu?”
    After he took his place on the opposing pillow, Rayad opened the cooler, lifted the platter, set it between them and uncovered it. “This is the palace chef’s specialty.
Shawarma
on taboon bread, topped with hummus and olives.”
    She picked up the sandwich, studied it briefly and then took a bite. “This is delicious,” she said. “And I can’t wait to dive into the dates and cheese.”
    He might have to dive into the nearby pool if he kept watching her mouth as she ate—and imagining how that lovely mouth would feel on his body. Instead, he handed her a bottled water, small silver plate and white cloth napkin. “Please eat as much as you would like. We have another tray for our dinner if this is not enough.”
    She paused midbite and frowned. “I thought we’d be heading back before dinner.”
    He tamped down his disappointment, with effort. “I had planned to have the evening meal here, beneath the stars.”
    Sunny mulled that over for a moment before she addressed him again. “I have to admit that sounds tempting, as long as you have me home before midnight in case I turn into a pumpkin.”
    “Pumpkin?”
    She laid the sandwich down and dabbed at her mouth. “You know the story. Fairy godmother. Handsome prince. Young girl with evil stepsisters... Never mind. I tend to forget we’re not culturally on the same page.”
    “Actually, I do know the fairy tale. Yet if my recollections are accurate, the young woman’s gown turns to rags at midnight. I do not recall the threat of becoming a pumpkin.”
    Her laughter gave Rayad surprising joy. “Apparently, you can be very literal in your interpretation of folklore.”
    “Do you believe in these fairy tales?”
    “If you’re referring to happily-ever-after, I’m on the fence. My grandparents have been married for over fifty years and seem to still be in love. But my mother, and I use that term loosely, went from one man to the next, so obviously, she’s never found what she was looking for in a relationship.”
    “And your father?”
    She turned suddenly sullen. “I have no idea who he is. I did some investigating a few years back and after seeing the possible prospects, I gave up the search. Some things are better left unknown.”
    He would have to agree with that in terms of his past. “My parents have been wed over thirty years, although their marriage was arranged. However, they seem genuinely fond of each other.”
    “Fond isn’t the same as love. I sincerely hope for Piper’s sake