Free Touch the Horizon by Iris Johansen Page B

Harizs you save for the eyes of only the chosen few.”
    Billie choked and tried to mask her giggle with a dignified cough, carefully keeping her gaze on her own cup. Oh, heavens, here we go again. She’d no idea David had such an impish sense of humor, until this afternoon.
    “Certainly, Lisan, it is my pleasure,” Hassan answered eagerly. “Naturally I was planning on showing you nothing but the best of my humble merchandise.” He set his own cup down on the elaborately carved tray, uncrossed his legs, and rose from the cushions to his feet. “If you will follow me, I will show you carpets that will dazzle your eyes.” He bustled toward a rich paisley wall hanging.
    “Another back room?” Billie murmured, setting her cup down on the tray.
    “Why not?” David asked blandly. “Everyone knows that all the real quality stuff is always kept away from the crude gaze of the hoi polloi.” He stood up, looking down at her with a mischievous grin. “You did want to go on a real Mideastern shopping trip, remember?”
    “I was just thinking of browsing in the bazaar again.”
    “Uh-uh.” David shook his head as he took her hand and pulled her up from the enormous cushion. “We did that yesterday. You nearly walked my legs off, and the day before that we had to go sight-seeing.” He grimaced. “Hell. I never knew a small city like Zalandan could have so many sights. You must have found every historic site and tourist trap since the town was founded.”
    “I told you I wanted to see everything,” Billie said with a grin. “What’s the use of visiting a place unless you can capture a little of the flavor and atmosphere?” She wrinkled her nose teasingly at him. “Besides, I’ve never been escorted around a city by someone who had the honorary key to it. All doors are opened to Lisan. They even overlook your peculiar preference for ladies who wear jeans and look more like boys than women.”
    “That’s not all that peculiar here in the Mideast,” David said, sapphire eyes twinkling. “And I thought I’d convinced you that you definitely have no resemblance to a boy, windflower. I think it’s about time we headed for that back room. You need another lesson.”
    “Again?” Billie’s lips were twitching. “This is the third one we’ve been in this afternoon. First there was the perfumery.” She sniffed delicately at the sleeve of his blue, oxford-cloth shirt. “You still smell a little of lilacs. Then there was the coppersmith…”
    “That was a mistake,” David admitted. He slipped an arm around her waist and propelled her toward the hanging where the obsequiously smiling Hassan was waiting. “How did I know there’d be all those copper pots and cooking utensils hanging from the ceiling? I was the one who nearly knocked myself out. After that, I figured that a carpet shop would be just what the doctor ordered.” He pushed her gently through the arched doorway and answered Hassan’s low salaam with a polite one of his own. Then the paisley hanging slid gracefully into place. “Alone at last.” He whirled and pushed her down on the pile of exotic carpets in the center of the room. “Now,
this
is what I call an interesting shopping trip.”
    The tiny room was dusky, and the rich carpets hanging on the walls gave off an aura of timeless intimacy. Billie was choking with laughter as she gazed up at him. His blue eyes were dancing, and a lock of sun-burnished hair was hanging rakishly over his forehead. He looked so like a little boy who had put some deviltry over on the grownups that she experienced a sensation of melting tenderness. “It’s certainly a different one, anyway. Are we actually going to look at the merchandise this time?”
    “Of course,” David dropped down beside her on the bed of carpets, took her in his arms, and bore her back on the cushioned softness. “I intend to examine them very carefully.” He ran his fingers through her hair before he spread the copper curls out on