A Sheik's Spell Read online

  A SHEIK’S SPELL

  EBONI SNOE

  Eboni Snoe’s 1st Novel

  A SHEIK’S SPELL

  Cover & Photo Design: Eboni Snoe a,k,a, Gwyn F. McGee

  Copyright © 2013 Gwyn F. McGee

  All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented is forbidden without permission. For permission, please contact Eboni Snoe at www.ebonisnoe.com.

  Chapter One

  Felicia’s scream caught in her throat as tons of rushing water broke through the cracks in the dam. It would only be moments before the massive overflow reached their tiny craft.

  ''Allah-u-akbar, Allah-uw-akbar' the guide yelled as he threw down the oars and dropped to a fetal position in the bottom of the dinghy.

  Without thinking, Felicia grabbed the paddles. Frantically, she tried to steer the boat toward the shore.

  “Get up! Get up! For God’s sake, help me!” she screamed, but by then the wall of water was upon them.

  On impact, the dinghy split into shreds of wood, and Felicia felt her entire body being crushed by what had to be tons of water.

  Panic set in as she was forced down into water so deep it was darker than any darkness she had ever known. Gallons of water poured into her nose and mouth as she tried to fight her way to the surface.

  Is this the way I’m going to die? She mentally cried out to whatever forces might be listening...and she called upon every ounce of strength she had in her attempt to survive.

  Thoughts of the research project flashed through her mind...Phillip and the others were waiting for her at A1 Uqsur. She could see her mother and her brother, Rodney, as her life began to unfold before her like frames on a movie reel. The dehydration project...her last love-Alvin ... college... dance class ... her alcoholic father... women’s shelters ... her battered mom.

  At last weakness began to set in. Felicia could feel herself fading, yet she continued to struggle as her limbs became heavier. Her hair plastered itself to her face, blinding her, as if it too were trying to drown her. At that moment, she was so aware of how short her twenty-five years had been and her need to live was unfathomable.

  As her consciousness slipped away, the last thought that filled Felicia’s mind was, I will not let this be my time to go.

  Chapter Two

  Na’im (Ny-eem) lifted his face to the wind and decided to remove the top of his galabia to take full advantage of the breeze. Bronzed muscles rippled as he raised his arms over his head, catching his shoulder-length, reddish-brown hair in the neckline of the nightshirt-like garment.

  It had been such a long time since he had ridden the slopes of his homeland. Much too long. Now he was back.

  He had carried out his father’s wishes, spending almost two years in the United States organizing and then trying to close a business deal. Na’im's father had said a son with firsthand knowledge of western business ethics could help modernize his people and bring economic progress to their land. A son who he expected to follow in his footsteps and take over their sheikdom. Na’im was approaching thirty, and his father felt it was time he began to prepare himself.

  So Na’im had complied with his father’s wishes, knowing that wasn’t the only reason his father had sent him to America. He knew they needed the subsidies the Egyptian government offered to businessmen who entered into enterprise with foreigners. Recent years had not been so prosperous for the Rahman clan.

  After living among westerners, Na’im Raoul (Ra-ool) Rahman had developed some opinions of his own. He did not feel western ways were the best He had found corruption in its society that had no face among his people, the rural Egyptians. The business deal he’d worked so hard to obtain had gone sour as a result of the underhanded dealings of westerners. So, Na’im’s stay in America had proven to him that his people were civilized in a way that Americans could never be.

  The feel of the camel beneath him was familiar, but he needed to once again become accustomed to the continuous up and down movement of the animal’s body.

  As he looked down the slope through the trees, he could see the River Nile in all its splendor; a sight that he had grown up with and loved. He knew this land like he knew no other, unlike America with its strange ways.

  Na’im would have enjoyed traveling nearer to the edge of the river, but he had seen Sirius’ position at dawn yesterday, and he did not want to take the chance of being caught in the river’s flood. For years it had been rumored among his people that the pressure from the swelling waters of the Nile would soon be too much for the Aswan Dam. Na’im also believed this. That’s why it surprised him to see a small boat traveling on the river. He could see its sail from his vantage point, well hidden within the curtain of trees and brush.

  What fool would be traveling the Nile today after the Dog Star has risen? He pondered. It must be some greedy merchant who wants to challenge the river and see if he can get his wares to market before it floods. Na’im scoffed at whomever it was testing the patience of nature.

  Resting his spine against the large bundle that was tied to the camel’s back, he began to think of his family and the

  gifts he’d brought back from America. Na’im knew his cousin Fatimah’s (Fa-tee-muh) large brown eyes would grow as big as lotus blossoms, as she tried on the jewelry and hair ornaments he’d bought especially for her.

  Thinking of this brought a smile to his lips, showing beautiful teeth in a face that could be described as nothing less than classic; not in an elegant way, but in a raw, primitive way.

  His hazel-colored eyes, flecked with gold, gave him an animal-like magnetism; the kind of animal that could never be tamed. Thick fan-like eyelashes cast shadows on wide, high cheekbones, divided by a tall imposing nose. Yet it was his mouth that told die most about his personality. It was generous, but at the same time shaped as if it had been chiseled from stone. There was a certain perfection to his lips that could smile as quickly as turn a deadly frown. Na’im was known to be a man whose heart was hard to reach, but once done, there was nothing he would not do for those he loved.

  He decided to dismount and take advantage of a clearing he’d come to high above the Nile. The spot had several acacia trees, crowned with limbs that spread outward like umbrella tops, providing plenty of shade and an intoxicating breeze. He knew it would be a while before he would come to another resting spot as welcoming as this. So he let his camels graze on the plants and grass that were plentiful there.

  Na’im stretched his tall, sinewy body out on the soft blanket of grass and thought about all the work he had cut out for him once he reached home. Intermittently, he would close his eyes, drifting off into a languid sleep.

  Abruptly, he was awakened by an explosive sound. There was something familiar about it. It was the sound of

  rushing water. More than once while traveling with the men he had heard it as the Nile’s bank began to overflow.

  Na’im thought of the small craft he’d seen earlier on the river and leapt to his feet, straining to see if the boat was still in sight. Just as he caught a glimpse of it, it was overtaken by a wall of water and disappeared beneath its masses. Seconds passed as Na’im waited to see if the small craft would resurface, but he knew within his heart that it could not have stood up to the water’s weight.

  It didn’t take long before the swollen river reached the coast beneath him, and it began to climb the riverbank. He could feel the power of the Nile as he watched it overtake small trees and brush in its way.

  Almost instantaneously, the force of the river pushed a body to its surface. The foam from the tumultuous water constantly covered and uncovered a black head that rested on a broken board, a
remnant of the tiny boat.

  Without hesitation, Na’im started making his way northward down toward the riverbank. The currents of the river were so high that he dared not go too far for fear of being swept away in its path. Upon reaching a large tree whose roots had been uncovered from years of erosion, he latched onto it with his left hand and waited for the growing river to bring the body into his reach.

  Na’im could barely see now because of the river’s spray. Blindly, he reached and groped in the raging torrents, praying that the tree’s roots would hold him. Within moments, his right hand seized a piece of cloth, but the force of the water was so strong it tore out of his grip. With quick reflexes, Na’im extended his arm to its full length, making one last effort to grab hold of the body.

  Chapter Three

  It took all the strength Na’im had to pull the small body up, and out of the water. Had it been a larger person, it would have been impossible. He could feel the tree’s roots tearing out of the ground as they bore the additional weight Finally, he was able to grab the young woman by her waist Holding her close, Na’im climbed back to the top of the slope.

  At first he could do no more than lay flat on his back with her encircled in his arms, as he panted heavily, attempting to catch his breath. Moments later the young woman began to emit a choking sound as her body tried to rid itself of the unwelcome water. Exhausted himself, Na’im managed to roll her over onto her stomach and began to pump with his palms in the middle of her back. He could hear her cough and sputter as she desperately tried to breathe.

  The coughing stopped and Na’im carried her limp body under a nearby acacia tree. She lay there as still as death. But he knew from her faint breathing she was alive.

  Na’im stared into the smoldering flames of the small fire he’d built outside the Bedouin tent not once had the young woman awakened since he’d pulled her out of the overflowing river. She had responded strangely, taking quick breaths as he removed the wet clothes from her body in order to dress her in a dry galabia.

  Na’im couldn’t help but stare as he undressed Felicia’s unconscious form. Nearly uncontrollable urges began to stir as he looked at her perfectly formed body.

  Her chocolate brown skin was even-toned from her face to her feet, with hints of honey brown between her breasts and inner thighs. Large tips highlighted full breasts that Na’im knew would sit high and proud without support or pretense.

  Accidentally, his hands brushed against silky smooth skin as he pulled the top down past Felicia’s well-rounded hips and thighs. Na’im’s breaths became labored as his eyes involuntarily focused on the triangle of thick, curly black hair that lost itself in the honey brown valley below.

  Reluctantly, he completed his task and picked up Felicia’s wet clothes. As he carried them outside to dry on a tree limb, a matted book of United States stamps fell from the pocket of her shirt. Na’im wondered what had brought this woman alone to Egypt

  Streams of steam rose from the pot of broth that Na’im managed to make from a leftover meal. He made it with the young woman in mind. It aggravated him to think that already he had another human being’s welfare to be concerned about He had been ready to take on such responsibility once he reached Karib, but that was days in

  the future. This woman was a foreigner, one he knew nothing about. She was an American, and he felt she could not be trusted.

  Na’im determined that as soon as the woman was able, he would take her to the nearest oasis where she could care for herself, and he would no longer feel as if she was his responsibility.

  As he covered the makeshift pot, a chilling scream broke the night’s silence. Quickly, he opened the tent’s flap and stepped inside.

  It didn’t take long before his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering in from the dying campfire, and he saw the young woman thrashing about on the pallet he’d made. Gently, Na’im attempted to hold Felicia still so she would not injure herself.

  “Come now, aros al bher, you are safe now. You no longer have to fight the River Nile. Na’im has fished you out of the water. It is by the grace of God that you are alive at this moment. You should rest now and gather your strength.”

  The soothing sound of Na’im’s voice seemed to reach Felicia through her delirium. She began to clutch at his arms and chest, unconsciously seeking to get closer to the warmth of his body.

  Na’im laid back and allowed Felicia to make a pillow in the crook of his arm. He began to stroke the tiny braids of black hair away from her face which was wet with tears and sweat. Na’im felt a mixture of emotions as he looked down into her troubled face, and he knew if he were not careful he could be in for more than he’d bargained.

  Felicia’s head ached so badly that at first she dared not open her eyes. She felt comforted by the warm arm that held her and the steady movement of the muscular chest upon which her face rested. She was also thankful for the cover that blocked out the bright sunshine coming through a slit in the material cocoon. She did not know where she was, but for some reason that didn’t seem to matter very much.

  Na’im, too, had awakened, and looked down to see confused dark eyes staring back at him. “Well, how do you feel, aros al bher'

  The sound of Na’im’s voice vibrated against Felicia’s ear and it sounded as if it were bubbling forth from an underground stream.

  “I don’t know. I feel a little weak and disoriented.” She tried to sit up, but her arms were too weak to hold her.

  ‘ ‘Well, you should,’ ’ he replied, ‘ ‘you are blessed to be alive. You nearly drowned yesterday.”

  Na’im lowered Felicia’s head down upon the pallet as he slid from beneath her. He then reached for a large bundle that was nearby and propped the stunned Felicia up against it. Nervously, she looked down at her hands and at the clothes she was wearing before asking, ‘ ‘Drowned...but where am I?”

  ‘ ‘You are in my tent,” Na’im said with a mischievous, boyish smile. “The tent of Na’im Raoul Rahman.” He could not help but pity this beautiful woman, who at the moment appeared so bewildered and helpless. “And who are you?”

  “Felicia Sanders. I...I’m a research scientist.” Felicia placed a trembling hand up to her forehead. “My head is pounding so. Everything seems a little fuzzy right now.” She ran both hands over her face and back through her

  hair. Her fingers caught in some of the tangles, as she made efforts to smooth it and collect her thoughts.

  Suddenly she turned accusing eyes toward Na’im. “Was I with you when I almost drowned?”

  “Oh no,” he raised one defensive eyebrow. “I am the one who fished you out of the River Nile. That is why I call you aros al bher, ‘little mermaid’. As a matter of fact you owe me your life.”

  Na’im was sitting cross-legged, no more than two feet away from Felicia. As a final gesture to his pronouncement, he crossed his muscular arms and waited for Felicia’s reaction.

  Felicia’s mind had blocked out the events surrounding the accident. All she had to go on was this stranger’s word.

  There was an awkward silence for a few moments. When Felicia finally spoke, Na’im could barely hear her.

  “I don’t know what to say. The pain in my head is unreal, and I feel so confused. I’ve got to believe you because my mind seems to have blocked out everything that happened.”

  Tears began to well up in her eyes, even though Na’im could see that she fought to keep them from flowing.

  “I don’t know how to thank you enough for helping me, but as soon as I can. I’ll pay you back.”

  Na’im shifted his weight uncomfortably. ‘ ‘I know one reason you are feeling so bad,” he said with false gaiety, “you have not eaten since I rescued you, which was early yesterday afternoon. I probably would not feel so good either if I had not eaten since then.”

  Felicia looked at Na’im with dark eyes surrounded by lashes glistening with tears and rewarded him with what he sought-a smile, albeit a weak one.

  ‘ ‘I will just rehea
t some of that broth I made for you last

  night I am sure you will feel much better after you have had some.”

  She watched him rise to his feet and exit the tent Now that Na’im was gone; Felicia took a good look around her. The tent contained the bundle Na’im had placed behind her back, two larger ones, and the blanket he’d placed over them while they slept

  Felicia felt so bad it didn’t really matter to her that she’d slept with Na’im. Plus, she instinctively felt sleeping was all they had done. He didn’t appear to be the kind of man that would take advantage of a half-drowned woman.

  Felicia wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging herself in a natural gesture of comfort. In doing so, the large shirt she wore slithered upward against her skin. For the first time she realized she was completely naked beneath the airy material.

  Her eyes focused on the outline of Na’im’s large frame outside the tent an involuntary tremor ran through her as she pictured him dressing her.

  It didn’t take long before Na’im had built a new fire; dry twigs and sticks were plentiful. As he sat stoking it and waiting for the contents of the pot to simmer, his thoughts naturally evolved around Felicia. Evidently she’d injured her head and was probably suffering from some kind of concussion. But that wasn’t what bothered him most of all. It was how he was so anxious to please her. It was contradictory to his very nature to be taken in by a pretty face. Beautiful women had never been a problem for him in Egypt America or anywhere else. As a matter of fact they had all proven to be quite dispensable.

  Na’im knew his father had plans to put an end to what he called his son’s ‘unstable ways’. Sheik Rahman did not feel it was wrong for a man to take his pleasure wherever he could find it. He simply felt it was in bad taste not to have a wife, at least giving the impression of stability. Na’im also knew his father was plotting to marry him off to some Egyptian miss whom he felt would yield strong sons for the perpetuation of the Rahman clan. It would be a plus if her family had money and influence.