while at the horizon it was shot through with dazzling scarlet.
‘Get up,’ Raffa rapped, putting an end to her idyll. ‘There are scorpions in this area.’
With a shriek, she leapt up, slapping her sides energetically.
‘Remember to check your boots each time you put them on,’ he told her sternly—one instruction she was unlikely to forget.
‘Is this the end of our journey?’ she asked, still shuddering as she hurried after him.
‘It could be—for you.’
‘For me?’
‘If you find a scorpion in your clothes.’
That did it. With a shriek that startled the gazelles, she whacked herself all over while Raffa held the back of his neck, viewing her contortions with a puzzled frown. ‘With all that stuff in your backpack,’ he said, ‘didn’t you remember to bring some bug spray?’
‘I could be dead by the time I find it.’
‘Okay, relax. Even the biggest scorpions you’ll find round here would only sting you like a wasp.’
‘Nice,’ she accused him.
‘Would you like me to search you?’
‘Absolutely not,’ she exclaimed, springing away. ‘So why are we here?’ she demanded, all fired up now.
‘I thought you might like to see how the money you raised will be spent.’
As he walked away she chased after him. ‘Raffa, wait … thank you.’
Out of breath, she rested, hands on knees, at the foot of the next dune.
‘Why are you thanking me?’ His cheek creased attractively as he smiled.
She straightened up. ‘You haven’t even allowed me to apologise to you yet.’
‘For success?’
‘Raffa, wait.’ She gazed up with frustration as his panther stride increased the distance between them. How was it she slipped two steps back for every step she tried to take up the dune?
Thankfully, Raffa had paused on the brow of the hill to stare down at her.
‘I’ll be right there,’ she called up. In maybe a year, the rate she was going.
‘Here, let me help you,’ he said, leaning down. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her up by sheer brute force. ‘Turn your feet out a little,’ he advised. ‘Think of the sand as snow. You can even side-step if you find that easier.’
‘You ski?’
‘Of course.’
Of course.
And, actually, she rather liked being helpless for once, and having him drag her up.
Close to, the tented city was a revelation. It was laid out neatly around the oasis, which flamed crimson where the grey water had harnessed the last solar gasp of the day. Camels and ponies and mules were gathered in a shady corral, and the voices of children carried shrilly towards them on the night breeze.
‘Come on,’ Raffa said, more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. ‘I want to introduce you.’
Casey stared at his outstretched hand. Was there a difference in taking hold of Raffa’s hand because she wanted to and taking hold of it because she had to, because without his help she was stranded on the sand?
This was not a time to get philosophical, Casey concluded as he looked at her impatiently.
She made a grab for it, and screamed as Raffa dragged her with him in a pell-mell race down the sand dune. He swung her into his arms at the bottom of it so she wouldn’t fall over.
‘You brute,’ she exclaimed, laughing as she tried to catch her breath. ‘You really scared me.’
‘Did I?’
He was wholly unrepentant, and the children were laughing, forming a circle around them. Impulsively, Casey reached for one small hand and Raffa reached for another, and before they knew it there was one big circle and they were dancing round and round beneath a rising crescent moon—for no other reason than they were all so happy.
The children led them deeper into the encampment, where everything was orderly and looked so permanent Casey had to remind herself that appearances could be deceptive. Her gaze strayed to Raffa at this point, who always managed to look like the baddest man on the planet, but who right now was listening to a little girl read her favourite book.
The Bedouin would be moving on soon, she realised, taking the moon and the sun as their guide and accepting no boundaries other than those raised by nature. It was a privilege to be able to spend time with them. It was a gift from Raffa, and the only gift she wanted.
Having this chance to visit the community the auction had helped, to see the travelling school and the medical facilities, made everything clearer to Casey. Minor niggles in her own life were suddenly immaterial. Anything she could do would never be enough to repay the friendship of these people. As the children led her by the hand to show her their prized pencils and blocks of writing paper, she felt humbled, and in that moment determined to open her eyes and see what else there was in the big, complex world she inhabited, outside her own small corner of it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘HUNGRY?’ Raffa queried when they had completed their tour of the camp.
‘Starving,’ Casey admitted.
‘Shall we make some food together?”
She took a step back and then realised he was serious. ‘Okay … but no sheep’s eyes.’ Remembering Raffa’s humour, she wasn’t taking any chances.
‘No sheep’s eyes,’ he conceded dryly, wiping his face on the unwound black cloth of the howlis he was now wearing slung around his neck.
So he was gorgeous, she accepted, taking in the luminous black gaze and thick, inky-black hair. Super-gorgeous, she amended when he smiled.
‘Is this your tent?’ she asked as he led her towards one of the larger pavilions.
Ruffling his wild hair, Raffa shook his head. ‘I don’t own anything in the desert. Think of it as the ocean,’ he said, ducking his head to lift the flap away from the entrance for her. ‘Like all other the voyagers in this vast wilderness, I use what I need and pass on what is left. I add what I can for the next traveler.’
‘You make it sound like a guardian angel system,’ Casey observed.
‘That’s exactly what it is.’
Where was her guardian angel? Casey wondered, hesitating on the threshold of the tent. She needed advice badly. She dearly wanted to find out all she could about A’Qaban’s people and their culture, and she desperately wanted to know everything about Raffa. But now
