Gabrielle took a sip of the sweet tea, washing away the taste of the roast goat. The colors of the flags which draped the outside of the tent, together with the traditional patterns of the inside, muted as the sun disappeared and a swift twilight followed, lit only by the fire and lanterns.
Sheikh Mohammed spoke to Zavian, and he beckoned her over with a smile. With the formal part of the evening now over, people were moving around, greeting old friends. Gabrielle rose and greeted the sheikh.
“Gabrielle!” Mohammed said with a smile, cutting through her formal greeting. “Come, sit by my side.”
As Gabrielle sat between Zavian and the chief, more refreshments were brought, and she studiously looked at the tea rather than meet Zavian’s gaze which seared her cheeks.
“Thank you, Gabrielle, for your poem,” Mohammed continued.
“You’re most welcome.”
“I, for one, appreciate your patriotism. For someone not of our country, you certainly share a deep love and appreciation for it. You show a loyalty to our land and people which some of our own people would do well to emulate.”
“I’m deeply honored you should think so, and also to be invited.”
“You need no invitation from me to return to your spiritual home, Gabrielle,” Mohammed said.
As her host’s attention was caught by one of his grandchildren, Gabrielle took a sip of her tea and pondered the old man’s words. She felt it to be her home. And Zavian had said as much.
The flames of the firelight flickered into focus the paintings on the stone walls, which rose around them. The geometric designs of the tents under the towering palm trees shifted slightly in the night breeze. The smell of the blooms, large and white, hung heavily in the air.
“Your ‘spiritual home,’ Mohammed said. ‘A patriot,’ ‘loyal to our land and people’.” Gabrielle turned to Zavian. He wasn’t looking at her, but gazing across the scene, at the people drinking, eating and talking. His face was rimmed with gold by the firelight.
“He’s an old friend of my grandfather’s.”
He turned to her sharply, and she could see a spark of anger and frustration in his eyes. “And what does that mean? That he says such things out of affection alone?” He leaned toward her, and his eyes darkened, transforming the anger into something quite different. “No, Gabrielle, he says them because they are true.”
She gritted her teeth, steeling herself against the onslaught. “Just look at me, Zavian.”
“I am.” And he was, more than she was comfortable with, but she’d invited it.
“And what do you see?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “A woman who looks and sounds very different from anyone else here.” She shook her head.
“Really, Gabrielle? You would not say such things of other people! You would not judge people in such a superficial, unimportant way as you have just described!”
She sucked in air to respond, but his words stopped her. Instead, she tore her gaze from him as the truth of his words repeated in her brain, bombarding her defenses. The darting flames of the fire distorted the people’s faces on the far side of the space, and she turned quickly away from them, looking across to where one of the women she’d been seated with earlier gave her a warm smile which bloomed across her face, encompassing Gabrielle within it. She swallowed and smiled back before looking up at the dark, inky sky, but it held no relief from her thoughts. The stars stared right down at her as if accusing her with the same direct views as Zavian.
She felt his hand on her arm. “Gabrielle,” he said softly, but she refused to turn to his word or touch.
She shook her head. “Don’t. It’s impossible.”
His hand squeezed around her arm, gripping it with an intensity that did make her turn to him. “You are a stubborn woman. What do I have to do, what do any of us have to do, to make you see clearly?”
“Don’t you understand, Zavian? I daren’t see clearly. It’s my last defense.”
“Defense from what?”
She shrugged. “From rejection, I guess.” She looked down at his hand, which still gripped her arm. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t know if he was gripping her arm like a lifeline, to be saved, or whether it was for her own benefit.
“Do I look like I’m rejecting you? Do I sound as if I’m rejecting you? Does anything I’ve done appear like that?”
“I know you want me now.” She didn’t tell him that she also knew why he wanted her. He wanted her because they couldn’t be near each other without wanting each other. But that was physical and ephemeral. “But it’s not enough to build a future on.”
“I say it is.” His undertone revealed a savage desperation that surprised her. “I need you, Gabrielle. You connect me to my country like no one else can.”
Something nagged at her mind. “When were you last here?”
He pressed his lips together. “Since I was last with you.”