Free Tidal Wave by Roberta Latow Page B

never been sexually aggressive before, but Alexandria has turned me around.”
    He did not play games with her. He told her the truth.
    “Arabella, I am a married man. Happily married, and I am going to stay that way.” He stroked her hand gently and added, “You are an exciting, beautiful woman, and free. I am not. Now do you still want to play with me?”
    Arabella did not remove her hand. She looked into his eyes and spoke openly of how she felt. “I would have preferred it if you had been single. I’ve never been involved with a married man before. Where is your wife? Why are you here alone?”
    “She is about to have a baby. She is in our house in the country in England. Fiona loves Gloucestershire where we live. She hates leaving the children. She does not share the love I have for travel in the Arab world, anyway. Her passion is babies, herbaceous borders, and making the best family life possible for me. I have other passions. Because we love each other, we indulge ourselves by setting each other free to enjoy them.”
    “It sounds to me more like being let out on a long leash than freedom.”
    “It works for both of us, you see. And now have you decided whether we are to play together?” he asked again. Anthony Quartermaine exuded charm along with the challenge and, for the first time, an interest in her. Arabella could not resist it.
    Slowly she allowed a smile to come forth and finally said, “Anthony Quartermaine, the Earl of Heversham, I will play with you.”
    Over dinner something happened to the couple. They gave themselves up to the delicious food, the sensual atmosphere, and spoke very little. An electricity, a chemistry began gradually pulling them together.
    The cheeky bravado that Arabella had accosted Anthonywith disappeared. She felt herself slipping into genuine desire to share with this man all the erotic feeling that the city inspired in her. What was so extraordinary was that he understood it. Something stronger than words — powerful feelings — rose to the surface for both of them during their meal.
    They picked up their tiny cups of hot sweet Turkish coffee and walked across the road to the sea wall. Placing the cups on top of the wall, they looked across the dark Mediterranean and listened to the sea washing the shores of Alexandria. They could make out the outline of the ancient lighthouse in the distance.
    He caressed her hair and said, “I know a better place than this.”
    They crossed back to the restaurant, where Anthony paid the bill, and climbed back into the carriage that had been waiting for them. They drove through the city, Anthony giving endless directions to the driver. He showed her an Alexandria she had not seen before. He stopped the carriage and bought her several chains of jasmine and placed them over her head, adjusting them carefully over her breasts. The scent engulfed her; she knew she would never know such a sweet scent again as long as she lived.
    Then the carriage turned away from the heart of the city and back along the Corniche in the opposite direction, away from the hotel Cecil toward Montaza and the beach. They passed the little tin train that rattled the route all day long and well into the night. The traffic thinned out and then they were there. They got out and walked away from the Avenue of Royal Palms, through thick green grass and hibiscus bushes, eucalyptus trees, date palms, and scrubby pines growing out of the sand. It was a strange exotic forest of tree trunks whose life of green was way up at the top, reaching for the stars.
    The pair wound their way through the trees toward a line of beach cabins silhouetted in moonlight. As if by magic, a
sufragi
appeared with a lantern. He greeted Anthony by name, took a key from him, and went ahead to light theway. He opened the beach cabin and lit a lantern inside, then opened the front doors, rolling them back to allow a view of the beach.
    Arabella and Anthony entered the cabin and watched