Page 18 of Dalla’s Royal Guards (Second Chance #3)

Eleven

“We need some firewood. It is too late to return to the car,” Musad said.

Nasser gave him a startled look. Dalla’s expression was distant, as if she were locked in the past. All Musad knew was he needed some air. The truth behind her words hit him square in the gut. He needed to get out and breathe.

“Where are we going to find firewood?” Nasser asked with a puzzled expression.

Dalla blinked and frowned. “There was an old juniper forest on the plateau above when I was last here. If you return to the fork and head upward, it is a short distance. You’ll also find dried sheep dung… if things haven’t changed.”

“We’ll see if it is still there. We’ll return shortly,” he said.

“But—”

Musad shot his brother a hard glare. Nasser raised an eyebrow in a silent inquiry before he shrugged and stepped away from Dalla. She moved away from them as if she had forgotten they were still there. Musad followed her movements. She was adrift in the stories etched into the stone.

“We’ll be back in a little while,” Nasser said.

“I’ll be here,” she murmured in response.

Musad reached out and caressed her cheek before dropping his hand and turning away. He strode back to the entrance of the cave, ducked, and exited. Outside, he took a deep breath. Nasser emerged behind him with a questioning expression.

“She died there,” he said in answer.

Nasser pursed his lips and gave him a brief nod of acknowledgement.

There was no longer any doubt in Musad’s mind that Dalla was telling them the truth.

There was no way she could have known the things she did, told them the things she had, or fabricated such an unbelievable tale if it hadn’t been true.

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. Once he felt calm, he set off through the narrow gap back the way they’d entered. At the fork, he turned to the right and began to climb.

Just as Dalla remembered, there was an old growth of junipers spread across the plateau.

The brothers spread out and began collecting enough of the dry, fallen wood to last them the night.

He found a thick piece of bark and used it as a scoop to collect some of the wild goat dung that had dried out in the sun.

Sweat ran down his back, and his shirt was soaked by the time he was done. His thoughts were torn between what Dalla had shared with them and Nasser’s echoing muttering. He looked up when Nasser emerged from between two junipers. His brother’s face, flushed and grimy, looked even worse than before.

“You look like shit,” he said.

Nasser glowered at him. “You don’t look much better. We both probably smell worse than the goats that live around here.”

He grimaced. “Let’s get back. It will be dark soon.”

They walked in silence, their arms filled with their precious cargo. Musad tried not to think of the pile of dung mere inches from his nose. He hoped the dripping sound he’d heard when they entered the cave meant there was enough water to wash his hands and face.

They entered the cave and stopped when they noticed it was empty. Unease made his stomach tighten. He deposited the collection of wood and dried dung next to the round firepit.

“Dalla.”

“I’m here.”

Nasser dumped his wood on top of the pile and followed him toward the back of the cave. Neither of them had realized that there was another passage that went deeper.

He turned sideways so he could slip through the narrow crevice in the rock. Five feet down, the cavern opened up again into a smaller room. He blinked in surprise when he noticed several ancient torches wedged into the rock walls. One of them was burning.

The sound of the water was louder. His gaze swept over the hollowed-out room, and a ripple of water drew his attention. A surprisingly large pool of water covered more than a quarter of the area. A pile of clothing lay on a rock next to the pool.

“Dalla?”

Nasser’s voice echoed in the narrow space.

Musad swallowed when Dalla’s head emerged from the water.

She looked like a sea nymph with her sun-kissed hair plastered to her head and her hair floating along the surface.

She lifted her head only far enough out of the water that they could see her nose and eyes.

The light from the torches made her eyes glow.

Then she slowly rose. Musad swallowed past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. His eyes were glued to the water droplets as they ran down her body. Creamy shoulders emerged. Musad had never envied water—until now.

His mouth went dry at the sight of her breasts cresting the water. He curled his fingers as a wave of desire struck him and all he could think of was the fullness of his groin and how much he wanted his hands to be cupping her breasts.

Her eyes held a mischievous and knowing awareness of his reaction to her. Nasser’s hissing breath informed him that he wasn’t the only one affected by what they were seeing.

If he were a gentleman, he would have apologized and turned his back, but he decided he was going to hell, if there was one, because his gentlemanly side completely evaporated as he waited in anticipation of her rising further from the water.

“I was hoping this pool would still be active. There is an underground spring that rises and fills the pool before it overflows back into a river,” she explained, waving her hand to the side of the pool.

He followed the graceful movement of her arm. At the end of the pool, the water overflowed and disappeared through a section of eroded rocks. Nasser stepped forward, squatted, and ran his fingers through the water.

“It’s warm… and deeper than I thought.”

She hummed her agreement and looked at him playfully as she swam backward a stroke.

It chased away the shadows of their earlier conversation.

This was a warm-blooded woman who was very much alive, and who had been affecting him in a fascinating, yet disturbing way from the start, both physically and emotionally.

“Yes, it feels wonderful. It reminds me of the hot springs near my home when I was younger,” she replied with a sigh of contentment. “You both should try it.”

Musad’s hands were already moving to the buttons on his shirt. Nasser rose to his feet and started unbuttoning his own shirt before he paused, hesitating.

Musad slowly lowered his own hands in response, and Nasser took a deep breath. “Dalla, I know that… earlier… when we kissed…” He cleared his throat.

Her patient, luminous eyes took Nasser in, allowing him to find his words.

“What I mean is, if you have boundaries you’d rather we didn’t cross, we’ll do whatever you want.” Nasser glanced at Musad, making sure his brother knew that he was allowed to have boundaries, too, and speak up about them.

Musad gave him a grateful, acknowledging glance in return, though it was laced with amusement given how much he’d been drawn to Dalla and wanted everything with her—everything that he had sworn to never want. He nervously returned his attention to her, awaiting her response.

“I want everything—” she said softly. Musad’s breath hitched at how perfectly she had matched his thoughts.

“—with both of you,” she asserted firmly.

“I have lived a long, long life, Nasser. I want to be greedy this time. I want both of you, and I would like not to waste time, if we can, since there is no way to know if our time will be cut short again. If you want that, too, then I invite you both to join me. If not, then I ask you both to give me privacy to enjoy my bath in peace.”

Musad’s hands curled by his sides as her calm words flowed over him like the gentle water of the spring surrounding her and left trails of fire in their wake.

He started when Nasser gripped his forearm and nodded to the crevice where they had entered.

“Give us a minute, Dalla,” Nasser requested, his expression strained.

She nodded, eyes filled with hope and sorrow. “ Ja , of course.”

Slowly, Musad backed away and followed his brother, his eyes locked with Dalla’s as he stepped backwards.

With one last look, she sank beneath the water, and Musad followed Nasser into the crevice, hearing the drip of water and feeling the rough stone against his hands.

His muscles were coiled tight, a physical manifestation of the need that mirrored the longing he had seen in Dalla.

He stopped dead in his tracks as his brother whirled around, eyes blazing.

“I can accept her terms. It isn’t like we haven’t ever been in a shared relationship before,” Nasser said.

“This is different. We were both young, and Monique was?—”

“—a manipulative bitch twelve years older and a lot more experienced than both of us combined. We were her fantasy. Dalla is different. I don’t know what it is about her, but… I don’t want to hurt her,” Nasser said, his voice filled with frustration and longing.

“Then we won’t,” he replied. He put a reassuring hand on Nasser’s shoulder.

“She said she wanted everything, Musad, and I don’t think she meant just sex. You’ve never been interested in giving everything.”

“I am now,” Musad declared, certain like he had never been before.

Nasser smiled with surprise and hope and looked past him to the area they had just left.

But Musad knew his brother was still worried.

They were both strong-willed and demanding.

It was one reason they had never tried to find another woman after Monique, even though there had been something that seemed right about the arrangement.

“We let her lead. Take it slow,” Musad murmured.

“This is going to kill me,” Nasser muttered.

Musad released a low, strained chuckle. It was going to be a challenge for both of them, but if they wanted this to work, they had to build trust and be patient.

“What if—?” Nasser began.

Musad knew exactly what his brother was thinking and cut him short. He’d had the same thought. What if they were destined to love Dalla only to lose her to whatever fate held her captive in its grasp?