After the filming was done for the day, they headed back to the resort. Their scriptwriter is long gone, much to Miles's disgust. He needed to talk to Shihab about taking her off-site when he needed her.
The two main actors, headed towards their private car, hot and dusty.
Once back at the resort, Miles found Andie back in her room, working on the rewrites, and handed them over to him. "I don't want you leaving the set Andie. I need you there at all times."
"Oh, sorry, it won't happen again. I wasn't thinking clearly. Shihab asked me to fill him in on the shooting, and we went for coffee. I had no idea he meant back here."
"Make sure it doesn't happen again," he gave her a brisk nod and departed. Andie closed the door, feeling guilty, because nothing was brought up about any shooting. She was just glad to have Shihab back in his life.
Miles found Shihab in the screening room, watching the scenes already shot in the two days he had been away. Miles settled behind him. "That was naughty of you, taking my scriptwriter away," he growled in his ear.
"Well, I needed her. Have you seen these yet?"
"Some, not all."
"Sit down and tell me what you see."
They went over the shoots, all of them. Shihab went from one to another, back and forth, repeating two separate clips. Same scene, but so different. Their first kiss scene. Stunned, he looked at the director, who did have the last say.
"Tell me you cannot see it," Shihab challenged.
"Whatever she said changed it, more sensual."
"That is all she wanted," he promised. "That was amazing. I think they need to see it."
Miles frowned. "Who?"
"The actors." They were brought in to see the two scenes of the same scene and were blown away, sensing the depth.
"How?" Kathie asked.
"That is after Andie's talk, explaining what was behind it. She's not telling you how to do your job, just what you need to know how to play the part. She chose you two for the parts." They looked at each other, having no idea.
The actors left and walked through the resort, heading back towards their rooms.
"There's nothing we can do about it," Levi the Brazilian-born actor complained.
"Why?" Kathie Cruise the American actress asked.
"Because he is paying and what he wants, he gets. It has nothing to do with her talent."
"She did write the book."
"Complete romantic crap. He's doing this to bed her. Not that she's that good-looking or a model, so don't see it personally."
Unbeknown to them, Andie was just strolling through the resort and saw them, rushing towards them, wanting to express what a wonderful job they were doing. She stopped dead.
The usual story, Andie noted, of course, they were talking about her and Shihab. She was a joke and always had been, but what upset her the most, was the way they had talked about Shihab. After all, he was paying, and that had nothing to do with the other.
Angrily, she stormed up to them. They blanched at the sight of her, paling.
"Say what you like about me, but don't you dare put Shihab down!"
There was silence, and then Levi leaned back against the resort's wall, crossing his arms. "Ask yourself, why are you here? Why do you have a say? No writer does."
"Because I was asked. I get it, you don't want me here. All I ask is, don't destroy my book. Have you even read it?" They looked at her blankly. "I wrote this story, bit by bit, page by page, so you have no idea. Read it, then judge me, and leave Shihab alone. He believes in me, so just leave him alone," she spun around and fled back to her room.
Sitting down on the bed, she dropped her head into her hands, heart pounding, and body trembling. She hated confrontation. But she won't let anyone put Shihab down, not after what he had done for her.
Now she probably had made it worse. She had filled with a fiery blaze of red.
Of course, he isn't interested in her in that way. Why would he be? He would be involved with someone as beautiful as Kathie and her flaming rivers of hair. She stood and looked around. She didn't belong here and went around packing up her belongings.
Then stopped.
She still had a job to do. Shihab was relying on her to do those rewrites. Okay, but that was all she was doing, and when she had free time, she would work on her new story.
The following morning, Andie dragged herself out of bed; the whole thing tarnished, but had a job to do, so changed into long shorts and a loose top. Grabbed her stuff and headed out to join the others, joining the crew as usual. Ignoring Shihab's offers to join him, the director, and the actors, with a shake of a head, she disappeared inside a four-wheel drive.
Once she arrived, she headed straight to her tent, waiting for Jenny to call her and see to whatever Miles wanted. Then headed back towards her tent, dealing with his needs, finally concentrating on her own work that was flying off the pages.
The biggest thing she had ever written.
Shihab knew instantly something had changed when she refused to join them in the car and went with the crew. However, he couldn't pull her up in front of everyone. The movie set had the biggest gossip and needed to protect her against their savage tongues.
She had been so happy when he had escorted her back to her room. She truly didn't see how brilliant and talented she was. He saw it. The way she looked at life. Probably too innocent, yet so refreshing.
And he had to tell her off for not wearing a hat under the sun.
Something that had lasted five minutes, so he had heard after making enquires. After talking to Miles, he knew what he had to do. She needed to get her confidence back. Needed to see her real dream, not this make-believe.
At first, Miles hadn't been happy, but this was far more important to him. He needed her in the right head space, not hiding in her tent, and she was hiding.
Shihab flicked back the tent flap and watched her work at her desk, head down. He stepped in further, across the Persian rugs that covered the tent floor. She glanced up and smiled. "Hello Shihab," she greeted him warmly.
"You were not on set today," he noted.
She flashed him a smile and looked down. "Rewrites."
"Surely they don't take all day?"
"Also writing a new story in between," she added. Shihab circled the desk and stood at her side, leaning his hip against it, and crossing his arms.
"Tell me about it."
"Just an idea. Not sure if it would work, so could just fizz out."
He eyed her closely through narrowing eyes with suspicion. "You wouldn't be hiding in here Andrea? You haven't been on set since that day we went for coffee, and the film is suffering because of it."
She went back to the writing, tucking free hair behind her ear. "They don't need me there. I'm only in the way; anyway, it was taking me away from my real work. I need to write Shihab daily, hourly, or I would go spare."
Hands came down beside her on each side, hovering over her. "We both know that is not true." She peeked up at him sideways, his grey eyes a dark silver.
"What, my writing? Ask my friends, they don't see me for weeks on end."
"Not your writing. I'm talking about not being wanted or needed on set. You are. You are a visionary Andrea, and you have a great way of expressing it on paper. Now it is time to spread your wings and motivate the actors. Don't tell them their job, they know it, but give them the history as you did on the first kiss scene." He eased back and held out his hand. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
Her gaze rested down on his hand, his beautiful hand with long tapered fingers, and neatly shaped nails. She placed her hand in his that closed around hers like a protective glove and was eased up on her feet at his side. She looked up into his eyes that were rested upon her face. "You have a raw talent, you're a visionary, and you see things differently, so you can give a different point of view."
"But it's not my film. I write books, every word I write is a part of me, it is who I am."
"Yes, I know. Now I have met you, I see you peeking out from behind the words. Your words are so passionate and vibrant. You bring my lands so alive that one actually believes one is there, even when I am miles away from home, and yet you have never been here. I hope you weren't disappointed when you first arrive?"
She shook her head. "Not at all. I was terrified my dream world would be shattered."
"And you wouldn't be able to write again." She nodded. He drew her closer towards him. "Why here Andrea? Why Arabia?"
"I have tried other countries, but they just don't flow as it does here," she edged closer to him. "I can get away with so much more out here in the sands. The desert where the men are so bold, survivors and very family originated."
He reached up with his free hand and brushed fingers across her cheek towards her lips. "Why only Australian women?"
"Because I know them. Let's say Americans. They are so different, other women from different countries and cultures, think and act differently."
"Hmm," his dark head lowered closer, his silver eyes lighter like liquid. His fingers caress her chin coaxing it up towards him as his head lowered closer, holding her gaze. "So playful, sassy, and so delicious, like you." She shook her head in denial, unable to speak, his lips hovering over hers, slightly parted, their breathing mingling, her stomach twisted up in knots, knees growing weaker. "Yes, you are," he breathed and his lips touched her, sending electrifying shock through her, moaning deep in her throat.
His hand was now around her waist, hauling her hard against him. She clasped his arm around her waist, his lips soft yet firm, warm and inviting, teasing her in an awareness she had never known. Her lips parted at his coaxing, deepening the kiss.
His tongue skimmed across her bottom lip and dipped in, where he explored her mouth, teasing and hardening. His arm tightened around her waist. Her hand guided up his arm and around his neck, body pressed against his as they explored each other hungrily.
She became bolder.
No one had ever kissed her like this before. No one had ever kissed her.
Her first kiss ever. And still held her hand.
Slowly he pulled away, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and scrapping, leaving them tingling. "Wow, my head is spinning, and what a great first kiss." Her eyes flew open, staring into dark, dilated eyes that danced, as he brushed his thumb pad across her soft bottom lip. "Did I just say that out aloud?" She swallowed hard.
"That you did," he smiled, holding their hands against his chest. "Shall we?"
She licked suddenly dry lips. "I think it is best."
His dark brow arched. "Do you really?"
"Yes," she breathed.
Shihab released her.
She grabbed her laptop and shoved it into the bag, picking up her handbag. He led her towards the opening of the tent, pulled back the flap and they stepped out onto the desert sands. The action was happening all around them, as make-believe was being turned into reality.
Movie magic reality.
She glanced across at the actors, playing their parts and smiled. She clasped Shihab's arm as they walked away. "This is where she realises she loves him, hurt and injured, bandaging his arm. Of course, him being who he is, takes it in his stride, while she is shaken to the core, fighting back tears. He reaches up, cradling her face in his hand, and tells her, he is fine, just a flesh wound, holding her gaze as the first tear she had been holding back falls."
She sighed, remembering writing that scene. A turning point in the story, one of many.
"And what did you do next? A knife fight, you really know how to spoil a touching moment," he noted dryly.
She laughed. "I had to keep them on their toes." Then looked at him, amazed. "You really have read my books."
"I told you I have read all your books."
"What's truly amazing is that you actually admit it."
"Why would I deny it? I admire what you do, and all from your imagination."
"And lots of pictures, research, and lots and lots of dreaming. However, I just don't see a man like you, or any man who came to that, reading romance."
He shook his head. "It's more than just romance, it's about hope, forgiveness, betrayal, all human traits and twisted plots, and you give nothing away."
She chuckled softly. "That's because, half the time I have no idea, why they do what they do until they tell me. I had one story of a couple dancing that was so good, perfect fit, and just knew the moves, and it just popped out of her mouth, he had lessons, private schools like she had. I had no idea, none whatsoever. The private finishing school where she was advised to go back home."
"Yes, the running away, and frog in the freezer."
She looked up at him; he was amazing, taking her breath away. She had never met anyone like him before. Oh, my, she was beginning to sound like one of her books. They weren't real. This wasn't real. It was the magical environment of movies. Her dream was coming true. Her vision. Oh, my! Her mouth fell open and stared at him.
"What?" He stopped as she did.
"You're making my dream come true." Impulsively, she threw her arms around his neck. "You believe in me."
"Of course, why else would I have you here?"
She eased back, realising her actions weren't acceptable, and already rumours were spreading. It wasn't fair on him.
Who was she?
Arriving back at the resort they stood in one of the courtyards with palm trees and a seating area. He released her hair, tumbling down around her, like a curtain of silk of reddish brown tresses. "I think it is about time you experience what you write about."
Her eyes widened, licking suddenly dry lips. "Like what?" She asked cagily. If he said to fall in love with her own personal sheikh, she was out of there. He wouldn't want someone inexperienced as she was.
Her heroines might get away with it, but not her.
"Well, you do seem to like your camels. Have you ever ridden one?" She shook her head. "Right, we are doing that now."
"Now!" His hand clamped around hers and pulled her along with him. "I'm not dressed for a camel ride. What if I fall off? I heard they spit."
"I cannot believe I'm hearing this, you're a fraud Andrea May."
"Yes, I already know that Shihab. I'm not those women in those books. I'm not adventurous or brave or have affairs." There she had put it out there, so there would be no misunderstandings.
He stopped suddenly, guiding her up to him. "Don't you think I know that? There is such innocence about you, especially in your writing, when it comes to consummating the relationships."
Her cheeks burned a deep red. She shook her head. "Then I don't understand why you're doing this."
"I thought that was obvious, my dear girl."
"No, it's not. I have no class, no real background. I just write books. I live in this dream world. You, well, you are just amazing, and you deserve that and more."
He drew her even closer. "Remember our first kiss?" How could she forget? So just nodded. "I knew then how truly innocent you were. No woman would have said that out loud."
"Yes, well, I do attend to blab things out without thought," she confessed.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek, eyes twinkling. "That's what I love about you, Andrea, your openness, while everyone else is so guarded."
"I shouldn't be, I know that, but you make everything so easy. You are far too good to me."
"And your lack of confidence." He brought up her hand and kissed it while holding her gaze. "Be brave Andrea, and I'd try to find a camel that won't spit."
"I am more worried about the biting. I just love their attitude."
"Oh, that explains this affection towards the camels," he noted, leading her away again, out of the courtyard towards her room. He held out his hand. She placed the room card in his hand and he dipped in and pushed open the door. She stepped in and he placed the card into a side slot, putting on the lights.
"I don't know if I have suitable clothing," she told him entering further into the hotel room, not a suite with a separate bedroom. She crossed over to open the curtains, revealing floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and a door that opened onto a small balcony, looking over the grounds, and the desert beyond. "This is brilliant, just how I imagined it. The stark desert has golden red sands that go beyond the horizon. I hope I do this all justice."
Hands rested on her shoulders. "You do it justice, Andrea. You bring it all alive, now; I want you to enjoy what we have to offer. You are here, so don't let this opportunity pass you by."
"Believe me Shihab I have been enjoying it just by sight. I have been so inspired to write. I sit up for hours on my bed, looking at that," she waved over the views, "as I write."
"When you're supposed to be sleeping," he scowled though looked around. "This room is not good enough for you."
She turned to him horrified. "Oh, no, Shihab this is wonderful, the views breathtaking."
"That could be better. No, it's not good enough and would see to it at once."
"Surely we would be leaving soon, I don't want the fuss. Shihab, please, I'm comfortable here. I love sitting on my bed looking at all that sorry, correction, lying on top. You flew me in that is enough."
"I was also travelling here, so made sense to collect you."
"What, by flying via Australia? Completely out of your way, not just a quick jaunt down the road."
"Ah, I had business in Australia. I didn't leave until you did."
She nodded, feeling better. "That's a relief," she looked up at him. "What am I supposed to wear? Surely jeans would be uncomfortable."
"Something light would be advisable. Do you have light pants and a shirt?" She eased out of his hold and searched her wardrobe, pulling out caramel-coloured pants and a tan loose long-sleeved shirt.
"I guess these would do. I didn't expect to do such things," she offered at the lack of clothes, not like she didn't have the money, she did, but never really bothered with such things. At home, she usually ran around in her pjs, because they were so comfortable. She turned towards Shihab in his usual suit pants and shirt.
"You will be changing into suitable attire, yourself?"
"Of course," he crossed over and touched the fabric of the pants. "Not suitable. Let's go to my room and I would organise something much lighter when I have changed." Replacing her clothes, she rushed around collecting her handbag and laptop, which wasn't commented on as they left her room and went through the resort towards the private section, taking an elevator to higher ground.
They entered the suite, passing an open room; exposing a king-sized bed, though in a large open area with all-around views and a full balcony area with tables and chairs. "This is your room?" She gasped.
She stood there taking it all in.
She deposited her bag and laptop into a large chair and headed across, opened the door and walked out onto a bigger balcony. Spread before her was the resort below, pool, palms and beyond the walls the high dunes. The view was stunning.
She walked the balcony that followed all the rooms, going to the edge, and looked down at the people below, moving around. One of the open restaurants she could see so clearly. She would love to see it at night when all lit up, setting her mouth watering. Now this was a room, and she would never leave, but only for the selected few.
Ones who could afford it.
Holding the surrounding balcony protective rail and she breathed in the air, stretching her arms out along both sides, leaning over. She looked up at the vivid, clear blue skies. Amazing, and how much better at night with the bright twinkling stars would it be, and then below to the unlit bamboo lanterns. She closed her eyes, viewing it in her mind. The atmosphere, dancing flames, chatter and light music, filled the air, and laughed, because she was really here, living the dream.
"Now you wouldn't be losing yourself?" Startled, she straightened and spun around, hand going to her throat at the sight of him. Now that was a true Arab in robes, though headdress free. "Is this what you would expect me to wear?" He teased.
"Yes," she breathed. He was magnificent. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he closed the distance between them. He cradled the side of her face in his hands, tilting her face up towards him as his dark head comes down, covering her lips with his.
This wasn't the first kiss like last time; this was a hungry kiss of want.
She should be taken aback, but wasn't, stepping close to him, lips parting under his, allowing him in, and placing her hands on his arms. Making deep sounds of pleasure in her throat as his tongue swept across her bottom lip and dipped in. Her fingers dug in to keep herself upright. The man was dangerous for a girl. His hand held her to him, slipping fingers into her hair, slowly pulling away on her bottom softened lip.
"You are a dangerous woman, Andrea May."
"It's Andrea May Barnett."
"I know," he informed her, circling his arm around her waist, holding her against his frame. "We could always skip the camel ride and practice those other passions of yours."
Startled, she looked up at him. "Other passions," she gulped.
"Like the one we just shared. I don't mind being used for research."
"I couldn't," she gasped. "Shihab," she dropped her forehead onto her chest. "That is just cruel."
"My dear girl, I am deadly serious."
"But why? You could have anyone you want," she protested.
"If that was true, we wouldn't be having this conversation." Shaking her head, she stepped away and found herself up against the balcony wall. He followed trapping her against the wall with his body, she grabbed at his robe.
"I told you I didn't do affairs," she choked. "Perhaps it would be best if I left and saw to those rewrites."
"No," he eased back, giving her room, her hand falling away. "I promised you a camel ride and you would have one. Your outfit should be here soon."
She looked at him dazed. "What outfit, oh, Shihab I wish you wouldn't. I would pay you of course."
He shrugged as it didn't matter one way or the other. "If you're paying for it, then you would have no choice but to wear it," giving her a smug smile, eyes twinkling.
"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this? If you pay, I don't have to wear what you have chosen?" She dared, folding her arms.
"I can send them back, you cannot."
"Nice to be someone of importance, okay, you win. Thank you, Shihab."
"See, that's not so hard," he crossed over and kissed her cheek, placing hands on her hips. His warm, soft lips lingered on her skin, skimming down, touching the corner of her mouth, breath hitching at his touch, trembling. Arms falling away, she swayed closer, clutching at his bulging biceps to hold herself upright. His hands caressed her hips, edging her closer to him as she opened to him, only to have him pull away at a knock on the door. "Bad timing," he mumbled disgruntled.
Slowly she opened her eyes as his thumb caressed her jawline to her parted softened lips, lingering over them, eyes hooded, smouldering, burning into hers. She trembled and he snatched another kiss, and then was gone, leaving her alone on the balcony.
Hugging her arms, she turned back to the view as tears trickled down her cheeks, trying to remember when she had ever been this happy as she was now. Not for a very long time, closing her eyes.
Did she dare to believe? Could this possibly be happening to her?
Goosebumps prickled her skin, and butterflies in her stomach, leaning back as warm, familiar hands rested on her arms, warm lips brushing her cheek, only to be turned around. "What is this? Tears?"
She smiled up at him, eyes shimmering with emotions. "Happy tears." He wiped them away. "I can't believe I am here," she whispered as she was gathered against his frame, back rubbed. "Thank you, Shihab for making all this happen. It is the best thing I have ever done."
"I think it has more to do with your talent Andrea, if you hadn't written the stories, you wouldn't be here, and the film wouldn't be made." He turned her around, sending her on her way, and told her to go to the first door on the left.