Amber and Anwar's story is continued in this sequel to "Kahramaan".
Amber's pregnancy gives Anwar hope that she may finally agree to marry him, but she continues to frustrate him with her insistence at keeping their relationship secret. Amber has, however, agreed to move to Egypt with him to await the birth of their child.
The sweeping, exotic background of Egypt, from Moorish castles to the blazing desert gives way to the lush green of England...and back to the desert as these two unlikely and passionate lovers maneuver their way through culture clashes, disasters and triumphs in order to stay together.
Anwar is desperate for Amber to marry him, but she refuses, despite the fact that she is now pregnant. He cannot understand her unwillingness even to tell her family of their relationship and he despairs of ever being able to call her his wife.
With their thirty-year age difference, Amber fears Anwar dying and leaving her alone in Egypt--at the mercy of their culture and laws, which would label her property. In addition, knowing how much her parents dislike both Arabs in general and Anwar in particular, she knows she would be forced to choose between him--or them--and she can't face that decision. She struggles to make Anwar happy, subconsciously knowing that the only way to do that is to marry him.
Amber stirred sleepily and opened her eyes, disoriented, yet sensing a movement somewhere in the room. As she sat up, she clutched the cool linens to her breast and peered into the darkness. Nothing...I could swear...she thought. Yes. There was the familiar scent of hashish and sandalwood in the air and a sense of presence. “Anwar! Is that you?” There was no answer and she frowned. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stood, her bare feet sinking into the layered carpet. “This isn’t funny, you know.”
There was a soft click and moonlight flooded into the room from where the window framed a tall figure as the shutters were opened. Cold white light streamed across the room, lighting it and her body in a silvery glow. “Shhhh, Kara. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Sudden relief flooded through her. For a moment, she’d been genuinely frightened. She started toward him. “When did you get back? And whatever are you doing, sitting there in the dark?”
“Don’t move!” he ordered, lifting his hand.
Obediently, she stopped, feeling self-conscious, highlighted in the moon’s glow as she was.
“You look so lovely standing there, Kara. Like a goddess...or a dream.”
A thin spiral of smoke curled up as the tip of his sigarrah brightened. The hashish tickled her nose. “With you smoking that, I might well be a dream.”
Anwar chuckled and the bright end of the sigarrah disappeared as he crushed it. “I could never dream of anything as perfect as you, Habeebee (Beloved).” Rising, he stretched, groaning softly, then came to her.
She realized suddenly that he was naked...should have realized it immediately, because she would have seen his white robes in the dark room. She shivered as his long fingers drifted lightly over her arms, barely touching. As always, his lightest touch aroused her.
“Are you real?” he whispered roughly.
Amber lifted her hands to his face, framing the harsh, dark angles with her fingers. “Come to bed and see how real I am....”