Desert Dream

The hot arid desert air blew through my hair making it dance in the air. I was rummaging through my bag to find a scarf to tie it back with. This was my last destination on my tour through cities with ancient ruins. From the Coliseum in Rome, to the crumbling temples of Greece and finally here in Egypt, the land of the Pharaohs, where I stood in the shadow of one of the great pyramids of Giza.

The last stop in a dream vacation but this was to be the best part of the trip. I was going to join an excavation in the desert. Camping in the desert for the last days of my trip was a fulfillment of childhood fantasy.

Ever since I was in the eight grade and heard the sad story of Tutenkammon the boy king, ancient Egypt held me in its spell.

My brother thought this last destination was too dangerous for a single woman to be traipsing about alone. So he had arranged for a tour guide translation bodyguard for the last leg of the trip.

He was afraid of the slave trade in women. He had been watching too much Dateline and 20/20. He told me someone owed him a favor. I informed him that he was taking this too far. But there was nothing I could do with an overprotective brother. I thought it was ridiculous and had plans on ditching this individual at the first chance.

So instead of waiting at the hotel like a good little girl I decided to come to the pyramids alone. I wanted to admire their majestic splendor in blissful silence with nothing to distract but my own thoughts. Upon first viewing them I was floored by the sheer mass they encompassed. I felt like a tiny ant standing in the shadow of a giant.

Finally finding the scarf I began securing it around my hair. When someone tapped me on the shoulder, I turned around clutching the scarf in my hands. I met eyes that pinned me in place and made me speechless.

"Your picture doesn't do you justice, Brianna" said an accented voice that my addled brain couldn't readily categorize.

A croaked, "Excuse me?" came out of my mouth, what kind of line is that, although I have to admit it was flattering.

Yet it was the striking male before me that caused me to lose my logical train of thought. Oh my, I lost my brain as well as my speech abilities.

Since I lost it already I decided to peruse what was before me. He was wearing a heather gray ribbed t-shirt that molded to the contours of his physique.

Showing that the man worked out very frequently. His black jeans fit snugly and at that moment I wished I could just tell him to take a turn around to inspect how well they fit in the seat. Eyes that pulled at me and beckoned me deeper. I would gladly drown in those eyes. They were green not just any green but a fertile verdant color. Oh pay attention girl he was talking again.

"My name is Michael. I was sent by your brother to show you around the desert this weekend." He was looking at me intently. Under his intense scrutiny I could feel the blood rising to my cheeks. It seemed he was looking at my soul and I had no idea how he could. As if all my secrets were known to him. I was an open book ready for his perusal.

"Perhaps you need some water? You can quickly get dehydrated in the desert. I would not want that to happen to you. I understand that you have been traveling quite extensively these past two weeks."

Great now the man thinks I am suffering from sunstroke. Thanks bro! if you only knew who you were sending. Dear big brother would have let me off on my lonesome if he could read my mind.

"Hi, Michael. It is a pleasure to meet you. Yes, my brother told me to expect someone. I just didn't expect it to be so soon. I was told you would meet me at the hotel."

His face took on an impish quality, when he said the following, "I arrived early and asked the concierge where you had gone. It was my impression that given the chance you would elude meeting me or that you planned to abandon me to my own entertainments as you went on your way."

Oh, Art had been telling tales out of school again. Couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? "Well, that may have been the case if he had sent some stuffy, stodgy person to be my guide, but I highly doubt you suffer from any of those personality faults. Yet if I am mistaken be sure to tell me now so I can plot my escape."

"Escape? impossible," he said and I could see the beginnings of a smile at the corners of those lush, imminently kissable lips.

"Nothing is impossible, Michael, absolutely nothing. Just look at those pyramids, they are a testament to a dream made reality."

He looked back at the pyramid of Cheops and back towards me with an unimpressed look crossing his face. "Yes but at what cost that dream? Have you thought about the lives that purchased this dream?"

"Well, now there's a cynical yet completely realistic view of the pyramids. So what has made you so jaded?" I began tying the scarf around my head again as I waited for his response. His eyes shut closed and when they reopened it was as if a window had been closed.

So Michael did not want to answer the question and I was not one to pry where I was not wanted at least not yet.

"Of course, let's go. I can't wait." He began to walk ahead of me and yes those jeans fit just as well in back. I wondered if it was possible to get jeans tailor made for a man. This looks like it is going to be an interesting time.

We returned to the hotel after traipsing about the pyramids. Michael was quite knowledgeable about the history behind them and the several theories of how they were built. He had a hypnotic quality in his voice, which transported me to the Egyptian past when the pyramids were new.

I could listen to the man talk about anything, he could recite the alphabet and I would still be entranced. We were standing in the lobby discussing the plans for the flight and what I should pack for the trip.

"Don't forget to pack a hat." He said as he brushed some curls away from his face and tucked them behind his ear. His skin had taken on some golden color from the sun.

"That is very nice of you Michael. Thank you but aren't you afraid to let me out of your sight? I might run away." Smiling at him, I turned to walk away.

"There is only one exit accessible to guests and that is through the main lobby. You would have to pass me to get out. So that would be a wasted effort." What he said made me pause mid step and turn around to see a half smile playing on those lips.

I turned back and walked towards the elevators. That man was being insufferable. Does he really think I could not get away from him if I wanted to? But to be honest who would really wish to? A sea of sand was all I could see for miles as the Cessna plane made it's way across the Egyptian desert. It was beyond impressive. I had never seen the beauties of the unspoiled desert until this moment. The gentle slightly differing golden shades that made the desert. When suddenly jutting

out of the sand came sculptures made out of pure rock. It was just breathtaking under a sky so cerulean it hurt to look at it for too long.

I looked out of the corner of my eyes at Michael. My companion did not even seem impressed by the splendor that was a veritable feast for the eyes.

His eyes were staring at the instruments. He neglected to tell me that he was a pilot. Of course he must have been here several times before so I guess he grew accustomed to this untamed beauty. Yet I could not envision how. He was also a very quiet man, not the typical tour guide. Michael was a conundrum.

And if there was one thing that I could not bear was an unsolved puzzle. It was distracting. To decipher what lay hidden behind those eyes would be a challenge.

"There is the site of the excavation." Michael's voice broke into my train of thoughts and caused me to jump a little.

I was growing accustomed to having him under my own personal microscope. I forgot for a moment that he was not a statue.

All right I had to admit I was a bit concerned at this pronouncement from Michael. I am a suburban girl not used to landing in the middle of the desert. So I braced myself for the inevitable.

"All right Sherlock you win." I was forced to concede. Sometimes men can be infuriating. He also succeeded in distracting me as we landed.

It was a veritable ghost town of tents and equipment. "They must be over that dune," said Michael as he pointed to the area. "This site was selected because its proximity to the caves in case of a sandstorm. The caves provide the best protection against the elements. Let's put your backpack in the tent on the far right. That is where they put visitors."

"Oh as soon as we settle in." We dropped off our gear and head up towards that dune. That afternoon I met the various members of the archeological dig sponsored by my alma mater. I was assigned to sift through the sand in search of remnants of artifacts. I knew they would not put me to actually dig that requires some practice and experience that I did not have.

Michael was very methodical and serious about his work. He worked very closely to me. Keeping a surreptitious eye on me when he thought I would not notice. I too stole glances at him when I thought he was unaware. The tension between us was as palpable as the heat from the desert sun. We played that game all afternoon.

Night came too soon and neither of us had addressed what was growing between us. They had a fire burning beckoning us back to camp. I had already heard the tales of the mouth watering delicacies that the cook could prepare.

Back at camp Michael made an observation. "You didn't put on enough sun block. Your shoulders are red as well as your nose." His finger lightly traced down my nose. If I wasn't already burned I should have been. His touch caused my heart to quicken in response. My body wanted more then a light touch.

"Well, the sun's rays are more powerful in this part of the world. Do you have any aloe to put on the skin, it will help cool it down?" He looked at me with some concern in his eyes.

I was at the tent sitting on the camping cot, relaxing my tired muscles. Eyes closed trying to control the wild urgings of my heart. When I realized that I burned my shoulders as well. Then I heard the rustle of the tent flap, in came Michael, with a small bottle in hand. And the tension I thought I had somehow managed to stifle flared up again more intensely this time. My body was not listening at all to my head.

"I found the aloe." He placed the bottle down on the table and then just stood there. A picture of stillness that was Michael. He was all about economy of movement but he had such a feline grace when he walked.

Yet the expenditure of energy was only what was necessary. It was as if he was keeping energy in reserve just in case he suddenly needed it.

Michael did not even look uncomfortable as he stood there. Waiting it seemed for a signal from me.

"Michael, do you normally baby-sit visiting tourists in Egypt?" I said to break the silence between us.

"Why do you ask?" He said as he took one step closer to me. I could smell the faintest traces of his cologne and the musky sweat that lingered around him.

"Don't you think you should be getting dressed for dinner? I thought you were starving before." That man was not answering any personal questions.

Ask Michael a question and receive one in return. Now he took another step towards me. With each step closer my thoughts clouded.

I moved my shoulder back and felt the skin underneath the shirt. It was hot and it hurt to the touch. That would teach me to go to the desert wearing a tank top. "Thanks for the aloe, I really need it."

"Would you like me to put it on for you?" He said as he took that final step to be standing right above me trapping me with his eyes letting me fall deeper with each intake of breath from his lips.

"All right." I said without letting a tremor show in my voice. I was very proud of that. It seemed he made the decision for me.

He opened the bottle and gently traced with the lotion the curves and planes of my face. His gentle touch was sublime and soothing. Yet most of all arousing. His nimble fingers trailed down my neck rubbing the lotion in softly. When his featherlight touch reached my shoulders I was not sure I could take much more of the man's gentle ministrations. It should be illegal to feel this good while being sunburnt. Then he stopped. He was done and I opened my eyes. "Thank you, Michael."

I changed quickly and stepped outside where he was waiting. His eyes were filled with heat as he looked at me. I could feel the temperature rise under the cool desert night. We said nothing by unspoken agreement as we walked to the dining area of the camp and enjoyed a delicious meal under the stars.

After dinner Michael and I sat on the sand watching a full luminous moon rise above the desert night in silence. The temperature was slowly dropping and the cool desert wind lowered my temperature. At one point it caused me to shiver and Michael gently put his arms around me to keep me warm.

"Yes they take the thread on the night when there is no moon and wash it. The three sisters take turns weaving until the moon is full and then they have to take it down slowly. Then the washing occurs and the cycle begins a new." He said softly in his accented voice as he tucked a piece of my hair away from my ear. "Sometimes I wish people could clean their selves like that and become new yet the same. "

"Everyone wishes they could change but the reality is that we all carry our scars and they make us better." He seemed to like what I said but I had no time for further interpretation as his lips descended to meet mine.

At first they brushed hesitantly against mine but sensing that I would not reject him he took control. Leading me down the path of passion where thought did not exist only a heightened sense of awareness.

When he pulled away he stood up and asked, "Would you like to turn in?" I smiled in response to his unspoken question.


	DESERT DREAM By: Ange Copyright January 26, 2000 ***All Rights Reserved. Story cannot be reprinted/reproduced without Ange's permission.* The hot arid desert air blew through my hair making it dance in the air. I was rummaging through my bag to find a scarf to tie it back with. This was my last destination on my tour through cities with ancient ruins. From the Coliseum in Rome, to the crumbling temples of Greece and finally here in Egypt, the land of the Pharaohs, where I stood in the shadow of one of the great pyramids of Giza. The last stop in a dream vacation but this was to be the best part of the trip. I was going to join an excavation in the desert. Camping in the desert for the last days of my trip was a fulfillment of childhood fantasy. Ever since I was in the eight grade and heard the sad story of Tutenkammon the boy king, ancient Egypt held me in its spell. My brother thought this last destination was too dangerous for a single woman to be traipsing about alone. So he had arranged for a tour guide translation bodyguard for the last leg of the trip. He was afraid of the slave trade in women. He had been watching too much Dateline and 20/20. He told me someone owed him a favor. I informed him that he was taking this too far. But there was nothing I could do with an overprotective brother. I thought it was ridiculous and had plans on ditching this individual at the first chance. So instead of waiting at the hotel like a good little girl I decided to come to the pyramids alone. I wanted to admire their majestic splendor in blissful silence with nothing to distract but my own thoughts. Upon first viewing them I was floored by the sheer mass they encompassed. I felt like a tiny ant standing in the shadow of a giant. Finally finding the scarf I began securing it around my hair. When someone tapped me on the shoulder, I turned around clutching the scarf in my hands. I met eyes that pinned me in place and made me speechless. I pushed my hair behind my ears so that I could get a better view of the stranger. "Your picture doesn't do you justice, Brianna" said an accented voice that my addled brain couldn't readily categorize. A croaked, "Excuse me?" came out of my mouth, what kind of line is that, although I have to admit it was flattering. Yet it was the striking male before me that caused me to lose my logical train of thought. Oh my, I lost my brain as well as my speech abilities. Since I lost it already I decided to peruse what was before me. He was wearing a heather gray ribbed t-shirt that molded to the contours of his physique. Showing that the man worked out very frequently. His black jeans fit snugly and at that moment I wished I could just tell him to take a turn around to inspect how well they fit in the seat. Eyes that pulled at me and beckoned me deeper. I would gladly drown in those eyes. They were green not just any green but a fertile verdant color. Oh pay attention girl he was talking again. "My name is Michael. I was sent by your brother to show you around the desert this weekend." He was looking at me intently. Under his intense scrutiny I could feel the blood rising to my cheeks. It seemed he was looking at my soul and I had no idea how he could. As if all my secrets were known to him. I was an open book ready for his perusal. "Perhaps you need some water? You can quickly get dehydrated in the desert. I would not want that to happen to you. I understand that you have been traveling quite extensively these past two weeks." Great now the man thinks I am suffering from sunstroke. Thanks bro! if you only knew who you were sending. Dear big brother would have let me off on my lonesome if he could read my mind. "Hi, Michael. It is a pleasure to meet you. Yes, my brother told me to expect someone. I just didn't expect it to be so soon. I was told you would meet me at the hotel." His face took on an impish quality, when he said the following, "I arrived early and asked the concierge where you had gone. It was my impression that given the chance you would elude meeting me or that you planned to abandon me to my own entertainments as you went on your way." Oh, Art had been telling tales out of school again. Couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? "Well, that may have been the case if he had sent some stuffy, stodgy person to be my guide, but I highly doubt you suffer from any of those personality faults. Yet if I am mistaken be sure to tell me now so I can plot my escape." "Escape? impossible," he said and I could see the beginnings of a smile at the corners of those lush, imminently kissable lips. "Nothing is impossible, Michael, absolutely nothing. Just look at those pyramids, they are a testament to a dream made reality." He looked back at the pyramid of Cheops and back towards me with an unimpressed look crossing his face. "Yes but at what cost that dream? Have you thought about the lives that purchased this dream?" "Well, now there's a cynical yet completely realistic view of the pyramids. So what has made you so jaded?" I began tying the scarf around my head again as I waited for his response. His eyes shut closed and when they reopened it was as if a window had been closed. A mask fell into place. "Don't you want to see the inside of the pyramid before we fly out to the excavation site?" So Michael did not want to answer the question and I was not one to pry where I was not wanted at least not yet.** "Of course, let's go. I can't wait." He began to walk ahead of me and yes those jeans fit just as well in back. I wondered if it was possible to get jeans tailor made for a man. This looks like it is going to be an interesting time. ~~~~~~ We returned to the hotel after traipsing about the pyramids. Michael was quite knowledgeable about the history behind them and the several theories of how they were built. He had a hypnotic quality in his voice, which transported me to the Egyptian past when the pyramids were new. I could listen to the man talk about anything, he could recite the alphabet and I would still be entranced. We were standing in the lobby discussing the plans for the flight and what I should pack for the trip. "Don't forget to pack a hat." He said as he brushed some curls away from his face and tucked them behind his ear. His skin had taken on some golden color from the sun. "I don't wear hats therefore I don't have one." "I will check the gift shop for one while you go and get your bag." He offered politely. "That is very nice of you Michael. Thank you but aren't you afraid to let me out of your sight? I might run away." Smiling at him, I turned to walk away. "There is only one exit accessible to guests and that is through the main lobby. You would have to pass me to get out. So that would be a wasted effort." What he said made me pause mid step and turn around to see a half smile playing on those lips. I turned back and walked towards the elevators. That man was being insufferable. Does he really think I could not get away from him if I wanted to? But to be honest who would really wish to? A sea of sand was all I could see for miles as the Cessna plane made it's way across the Egyptian desert. It was beyond impressive. I had never seen the beauties of the unspoiled desert until this moment. The gentle slightly differing golden shades that made the desert. When suddenly jutting out of the sand came sculptures made out of pure rock. It was just breathtaking under a sky so cerulean it hurt to look at it for too long. I looked out of the corner of my eyes at Michael. My companion did not even seem impressed by the splendor that was a veritable feast for the eyes. His eyes were staring at the instruments. He neglected to tell me that he was a pilot. Of course he must have been here several times before so I guess he grew accustomed to this untamed beauty. Yet I could not envision how. He was also a very quiet man, not the typical tour guide. Michael was a conundrum. And if there was one thing that I could not bear was an unsolved puzzle. It was distracting. To decipher what lay hidden behind those eyes would be a challenge. "There is the site of the excavation." Michael's voice broke into my train of thoughts and caused me to jump a little. I was growing accustomed to having him under my own personal microscope. I forgot for a moment that he was not a statue. "Where are we landing then?" "Right there on the sand, there is no need for a runway out here." All right I had to admit I was a bit concerned at this pronouncement from Michael. I am a suburban girl not used to landing in the middle of the desert. So I braced myself for the inevitable. "Don't worry. I have done this before. We will be fine." "What makes you think I am worried?" I said indignant that he could read me already. He glanced at me. "You are chewing your lips and choking the arm rests." "All right Sherlock you win." I was forced to concede. Sometimes men can be infuriating. He also succeeded in distracting me as we landed. ~~~~~~ The sight of the dig was desolate when we approached it from the east. It was a veritable ghost town of tents and equipment. "They must be over that dune," said Michael as he pointed to the area. "This site was selected because its proximity to the caves in case of a sandstorm. The caves provide the best protection against the elements. Let's put your backpack in the tent on the far right. That is where they put visitors." "Great. So when do we head out to the dig?" "Oh as soon as we settle in." We dropped off our gear and head up towards that dune. That afternoon I met the various members of the archeological dig sponsored by my alma mater. I was assigned to sift through the sand in search of remnants of artifacts. I knew they would not put me to actually dig that requires some practice and experience that I did not have. Michael was very methodical and serious about his work. He worked very closely to me. Keeping a surreptitious eye on me when he thought I would not notice. I too stole glances at him when I thought he was unaware. The tension between us was as palpable as the heat from the desert sun. We played that game all afternoon. Night came too soon and neither of us had addressed what was growing between us. They had a fire burning beckoning us back to camp. I had already heard the tales of the mouth watering delicacies that the cook could prepare. Back at camp Michael made an observation. "You didn't put on enough sun block. Your shoulders are red as well as your nose." His finger lightly traced down my nose. If I wasn't already burned I should have been. His touch caused my heart to quicken in response. My body wanted more then a light touch. "I normally don't burn this quickly." I said huskily. "Well, the sun's rays are more powerful in this part of the world. Do you have any aloe to put on the skin, it will help cool it down?" He looked at me with some concern in his eyes. "I forgot to pack that." "I have some in my pack. I'll get it and bring it to you." I was at the tent sitting on the camping cot, relaxing my tired muscles. Eyes closed trying to control the wild urgings of my heart. When I realized that I burned my shoulders as well. Then I heard the rustle of the tent flap, in came Michael, with a small bottle in hand. And the tension I thought I had somehow managed to stifle flared up again more intensely this time. My body was not listening at all to my head. "I found the aloe." He placed the bottle down on the table and then just stood there. A picture of stillness that was Michael. He was all about economy of movement but he had such a feline grace when he walked. Yet the expenditure of energy was only what was necessary. It was as if he was keeping energy in reserve just in case he suddenly needed it. Michael did not even look uncomfortable as he stood there. Waiting it seemed for a signal from me. "Michael, do you normally baby-sit visiting tourists in Egypt?" I said to break the silence between us. "Why do you ask?" He said as he took one step closer to me. I could smell the faintest traces of his cologne and the musky sweat that lingered around him. "It just seems to me that this is not how you make a living." "Don't you think you should be getting dressed for dinner? I thought you were starving before." That man was not answering any personal questions. Ask Michael a question and receive one in return. Now he took another step towards me. With each step closer my thoughts clouded. I moved my shoulder back and felt the skin underneath the shirt. It was hot and it hurt to the touch. That would teach me to go to the desert wearing a tank top. "Thanks for the aloe, I really need it." "Would you like me to put it on for you?" He said as he took that final step to be standing right above me trapping me with his eyes letting me fall deeper with each intake of breath from his lips. "All right." I said without letting a tremor show in my voice. I was very proud of that. It seemed he made the decision for me. He opened the bottle and gently traced with the lotion the curves and planes of my face. His gentle touch was sublime and soothing. Yet most of all arousing. His nimble fingers trailed down my neck rubbing the lotion in softly. When his featherlight touch reached my shoulders I was not sure I could take much more of the man's gentle ministrations. It should be illegal to feel this good while being sunburnt. Then he stopped. He was done and I opened my eyes. "Thank you, Michael." "I will wait for you outside for dinner." As silently as he came in he left. I changed quickly and stepped outside where he was waiting. His eyes were filled with heat as he looked at me. I could feel the temperature rise under the cool desert night. We said nothing by unspoken agreement as we walked to the dining area of the camp and enjoyed a delicious meal under the stars. After dinner Michael and I sat on the sand watching a full luminous moon rise above the desert night in silence. The temperature was slowly dropping and the cool desert wind lowered my temperature. At one point it caused me to shiver and Michael gently put his arms around me to keep me warm. "Do you know the legend of the moonspinners?" I had a vague idea. "Isn't about the weavers of the moon in Greek mythology." "Yes they take the thread on the night when there is no moon and wash it. The three sisters take turns weaving until the moon is full and then they have to take it down slowly. Then the washing occurs and the cycle begins a new." He said softly in his accented voice as he tucked a piece of my hair away from my ear. "Sometimes I wish people could clean their selves like that and become new yet the same. " "Everyone wishes they could change but the reality is that we all carry our scars and they make us better." He seemed to like what I said but I had no time for further interpretation as his lips descended to meet mine. At first they brushed hesitantly against mine but sensing that I would not reject him he took control. Leading me down the path of passion where thought did not exist only a heightened sense of awareness. When he pulled away he stood up and asked, "Would you like to turn in?" I smiled in response to his unspoken question. The End