men,” Fern teased. “You’ve been glued to your husband since we arrived.” It had been four days and while Fern had had the children for a few hours every morning and afternoon, the adults tended to keep their distance, as did Fern. It was the only way she could disguise her fascination with Zafir, but her attraction toward him had only increased rather than abated.
“I’m sorry, Fern—” Amineh began.
“Oh, please don’t apologize. You’ve said before how much you miss your husband when he’s traveling or tied up with other things. I’m glad you finally have time together. It’s nice.”
“It is nice,” Amineh agreed. “Glorious,” she added on a luxuriant sigh as she settled onto her back, mouth curved into a smugly reminiscent smile.
Her contentment made Fern think that Zafir was probably right about what the couple was doing in their own time. It made Fern long to ask what it was like.
She was sinfully curious to know what it would be like with Zafir. At night she practically called to him with her body, aching for him to come to her and show her everything he’d hinted at. By day she was tortured with angst, trying to fight her obsession while hoarding the little details the children inadvertently dropped about him, wishing she could find something wrong with him that would turn her off, but he seemed to be everything she admired in a person: honest and fair and smart.
The worst part was, he’d said the consequences wouldn’t be worth an affair, but all she could think was that she didn’t care. She would never meet another man like him. Making love with him would probably push a self-destruct button on her future, making it impossible for any other man to ever live up to the bar Zafir set, but part of her was willing to take that risk. She knew she would always regret it if she didn’t.
So irresponsible.
“I should still be a better friend,” Amineh said. “Especially since you haven’t abandoned me for my brother, which every other female acquaintance has done at one time or another.”
“I can barely hold my own with Tariq,” Fern muttered, ducking her eyes to her tablet to keep from revealing how quickly she would turn her back on Amineh if Zafir crooked his finger.
“Ra’id likes that you’re reserved. He had misgivings about bringing a Western woman into our household. He was afraid there’d be...” She lifted her head to glance at the children, checking to see how closely they were listening, but they were debating the position of a flag. “Politics,” she announced with a significant quirk of her mouth. “So don’t wish yourself to be different. We like you exactly as you are.”
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