A Lesson in Love: A sweet forbidden love story Read online

  He gritted his teeth and forced the words out. “I think you should.”

  Rose’s eyes flicked to him, and her jaw dropped. “You do? Why?”

  Rasheed squared his back. “You’re the most talented student in my class, Rose. You’re actually the only one I would recommend to apply. Why would you even consider not doing it?”

  Rose gasped, her lips trembling. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to answer then bit her lip.

  Rasheed couldn’t stop himself. His gaze dropped. The way her white teeth pressed on her raspberry flesh did things to him that would have been best ignored.

  He had to convince Rose to go for the LeGrand. It was better if she went away for a year.

  She crossed her arms. “I don’t think I could write about Raw Love, or just love in general.” Her eyes were fixed on her arms. Her voice was barely a whisper.

  Rasheed locked two fingers underneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. “And why is that?”

  She didn’t answer him, just kept staring. After a second, she wriggled her face away from his hand. “I …di….never…” she mumbled under her breath.

  Rasheed leaned closer. “I didn’t catch a word.”

  Her eyes grew wider and filled with some unknown fire, so intense that a longing whispered through him. “I said, I don’t know how to write about love, as I’ve never been in a relationship.”

  It was Rasheed’s turn to stare.

  Could it be true? Could this magnificent creature, this wise and kind-hearted girl not be with somebody? “How is that possible?”

  His incredulous tone might have been offensive to Rose, because she pulled her shoulders back and her jaw hardened. “I’m not a freak or anything. I’ve had some experiences. It’s just…well…it wasn’t anything real yet.”

  Exultation surged through Rasheed.

  It meant not only that Rose was single, but also that her heart and body had never immersed in the sweet abandonment of love. However, as soon as the news buoyed his spirits, he scolded himself.

  Where was he even letting his thoughts go? There was no way he could become the one for Rose. They were in a setting that didn’t allow for those kinds of emotions. Also Rose was probably not interested in him at all.

  He tilted his head. “I see. But you could write then based on what you desire instead of what you’ve experienced.”

  Her face contorted into a painful grimace. “I wouldn’t have the courage to do that. You might not know it from my writing, but I’m a shy person. I couldn’t open up like that. Not now, nor ever.”

  Rasheed crumbled inside as he watched an unknown sorrow plunder Rose’s eyes. The urge to console her and assure her that she was capable of anything overcame him.

  But as his arms opened, he got ahold of himself and pressed them back to his sides. He clenched his hands into fists so hard his knuckles became white.

  He couldn’t embrace Rose and draw her to his chest. The smell of her caramel tresses, the softness of her skin, her curves pressed to his body…no it would be too much. He couldn’t trust himself to distinguish right from wrong.

  But he had to help her somehow. And help himself. The pulsations in his blood were clues that it would be best if Rose won the scholarship.

  Driven by a sudden stroke of genius, he asked. “What time do you need to be home tonight?”

  Rose wrinkled her forehead. “My bus usually leaves at six, but on Mondays we don’t have family dinner scheduled. So I guess I just need to be back for the night. Why do you ask?”

  Rasheed smiled. “I have an idea about what could help you with the block you feel inside. You said you liked Arabic music, didn’t you?”

  Rose slowly nodded.

  “So then, I’ll take you to my sister’s dance school tonight. She’s teaching a class on Mondays that’s purely based on letting go.”

  Rose chewed on her lip. “Why do you think that would be useful for me?”

  Rasheed rubbed his chin. “Because in dance one succumbs to the sensual and emotional. It takes you back to your primitive roots, a world still based on instinct, intuition and euphoria. To dance you need to release yourself from your social shackles, lay down your own judgment. If you learn to do that, you’ll be able to connect to the deepest source of your own creativity.” He took one step closer to Rose. “One that knows what love is and always has.”

  Rose gulped.

  Rasheed lifted a brow. “So are you in?”

  Chapter 4

  Rose walked beside Rasheed to the parking lot reserved for the teachers. Fortunately, only a grey Audi stood in the large area, and Rose knew very well that it belonged to him.

  The rest of the faculty must have left early. From the corner of her eyes she stole a glance at Rasheed.

  Was this really happening?

  She pinched her arm and sighed as the jolt of pain registered. She was awake. This wasn’t a dream, after all. How it could come to this, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to jinx it by asking too many questions.

  She had a chance to spend an evening in the company of the man she’d desired for almost a year now. Inviting her along to his sister’s school was probably due to gallantry, and perhaps professional interest in her writing skills, but she could still make the best of the situation.

  Yes, she was going to fill up her reserves for those lonely nights when she lay alone in bed recalling each and every detail of Rasheed’s face or the sound of his voice.

  They arrived at the car and Rasheed clicked his car key. The lights flashed once, signaling that the doors were open.

  Rose went to open the passenger door, but Rasheed seemed to be thinking the same thing. Their arms reached out simultaneously, and their fingers met on the handle. Sizzles exploded in Rose’s palm and she snapped her head to look at him.

  Holy crap, she was standing only a few inches from Rasheed’s face. His fresh manly odor wafted over her and Rose’s knees wobbled.

  He smiled at her. “Please, let me.”

  Rose took a step backward while Rasheed opened the door for her.

  She hopped in, and he closed the door. As he walked around the car, he kept staring at his palm as if he too had a lingering sensation after their unexpected encounter.

  Did he feel those potent electric charges too?

  Rasheed took his place behind the wheel and rolled down the windows. “I don’t like air-conditioning in my car. I prefer to have the smell of the desert accompanying me, but if you like I could switch it on.”

  Rose shook her head. “No, please don’t. It’s such a nice change. My brother always turns on the AC like crazy when we drive to school. It’s closes you off to your surroundings and stinks.”

  Rasheed chuckled then turned to her. “Is it your brother’s car?”

  Rose nodded. “Being the oldest, he’s got the privilege of having one. Not that my parents can’t afford to buy a car for me and my sister, too, but I think my dad prefers to keep us under control. Here, if you don’t have your own means of transport, you tend to stay put.”

  Rasheed squinted his eyes. “Maybe he’s afraid of letting his daughters wander around in an unfamiliar Arabic country alone.” His gaze quickly swept over Rose’s entire body. It happened so fast that Rose wasn’t sure it truly occurred. Then he added. “I can’t blame him for it.”

  There it was again.

  The same tone he’d used when he questioned her about true love in the classroom. As if there was more to his simple words than their actual meaning. As if something floated underneath the surface of his even voice. Something teasing and dark.

  Rose swallowed and folded her hands in her lap to hide their trembling.

  Why did her body behave in such a traitorous way? If there was still a chance that Rasheed didn’t suspect her crush on him, her shuddering hands were sure to give her away.

  Rasheed turned back to the wheel and put the key in the ignition. The engine sprang to life and the radio switched on. The voice of a woman singing fille
d the car.

  Rasheed reached out to turn it off, but Rose, without realizing what she was doing, stopped his arm midway. “Please, leave it on. I like it.”

  Rasheed’s eyes darted to his arm and his jaw clenched.

  Rose let go. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “Don’t be.” He grabbed the wheel and stepped on the gas.

  The car rolled out of the parking lot toward the road that Rose and her siblings took to school every day.

  As soon as they left the campus, the familiar sand dunes bathed in the reddish flame of the setting sun greeted them. They sped past them and Rose stuck out a hand to feel the wind rushing by.

  The song ended and a new one started. This time a duet sung by a man and a woman. Their voices were so loaded with sensuality that Rose, even without understanding the meaning, shivered.

  Rasheed blinked at her. “Are you cold? With the sun disappearing, the air is getting chilly. Shall I close the windows?”

  Rose held up her hand. “No, I’m fine. It’s just the music. Something in the way this melody unfolds seems to speak to a deeper layer in my soul. Maybe because I don’t know what they’re saying. “

  Rasheed’s lips twitched. “Every night my love, my heart comes to rest as it returns to your eyes. Though you’ll never be mine, I still cherish the nights. That’s when I’m truly alive.”

  Rose knew he was just translating the song, but her heart nearly stopped at his words. She hugged herself tightly to tame the thumping in her chest. She cleared her throat. “So ‘habibi’ is my love?”

  Rasheed nodded. “Yes, habibi is for a male and habibti for a female.”

  Rose sighed. “Arabic language can be so melodic. I wish I could speak it a little.”

  “You could take a course at the university. There’s a friend of mine who does the beginner’s level in the Oriental Literature department.”

  Rose snorted. “Yeah, like my father would ever agree.”

  Rasheed furrowed his brows. “Why wouldn’t he? Isn’t it important that you integrate in the country you’re living?”

  Rose inhaled. How could she explain it to Rasheed without painting her life as a pitiful whirlwind? “My Dad works in aerospace technology. The things he does are pretty peculiar, so each time he switches jobs, we’re bound to switch countries, too. We’ve moved to seven countries since I was eight. Putting down roots isn’t encouraged for us. We shouldn’t miss a place if we end up having to move again.”

  Rasheed nodded. “I see. That must have been tiring for you as a child. But at least you always had your brother and sister with you.”

  Yeah, right. As if Elliott and Stacey’s presence made a huge difference in how lonely she felt after each move.

  She chewed on her lip before answering, “My siblings and I are quite different. Sometimes I wonder if I was adopted and my parents forgot to tell me.”

  Rasheed threw a quick glance at Rose before returning his eyes to the road. “Well, you do look different than your sister.”

  Rose’s throat swelled. Oh, no. So Rasheed had seen her and Stacey together. He must have realized that she was the ugly duckling in the Wilson clan.

  Rose shrugged. “Yes, I get that a lot.” As much as she tried to control the bitterness in her voice, it was still too ragged.

  Rasheed took his eyes off the road and slowly turned his head to her. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re unsure about your own beauty?”

  Rose fidgeted with the safety belt.

  What kind of question was this? Was Rasheed teasing her or what? Or was it part of his plan to unleash self-acceptance and creative energies in her?

  He couldn’t actually think she was beautiful. She was just an average girl, not too ugly but definitely not as gorgeous as her sister or Emily. Or Rasheed himself, for that matter.

  Her vision blurred. As much as she wanted to convince herself she could handle the emotional challenges of Rasheed’s proximity, the funny dance her heart kept turning ever since they got in the car made Rose doubt her self-evaluation skills.

  It was time to answer Rasheed, and best to keep it light.

  Rose plastered on a smile. “I know that each of us is beautiful in subjective terms. Only some of us are also judged by objective measures. I don’t qualify by those standards.”

  Rasheed turned the wheel to the left and, without looking at Rose, he said, “You couldn’t be more wrong about that, Rose. Really, you couldn’t.”

  But before she could ask what exactly he meant by his last enigmatic words, Rasheed stopped the car. “We’ve arrived.”

  Chapter 5

  Rasheed led the way to his sister’s dance school. He could hear Rose following closely as her sandals made squishing noises on the pavement. He gritted his teeth trying to resist the urge to whirl around and grab Rose’s arms to show her how wrong she was.

  How could she possibly ignore how pretty she was? Those large, dreamy blue eyes and her long hair. The delicate lines on her smart forehead and her lips. Above all, her lips. They could drive a man crazy just by looking at them. Let alone tasting them.

  He stifled a groan and quickened his steps. The sooner they got into the safe harbor of his sister’s watchful eyes the better. Aisha knew the internal battles Rasheed had been fighting over Rose. He’d been stupid enough to confide in his sister.

  But maybe now his stupidity would pay off. Aisha had always discouraged him from moving forward by inviting Rose out. His sister was afraid for his reputation as a teacher.

  To be honest, so was Rasheed. But somehow, something had broken in him today. His willingness to keep his desires under control was lessening.

  Was it the way Rose spoke about true love in class? Or was it the idea that she might be leaving soon if she took the scholarship?

  By the time she got back, Rasheed wouldn’t be her teacher anymore. There wouldn’t be any rules keeping them apart.

  He tapped his left hand on his forehead. Could his brain get any more idiotic? What made him hope Rose was even interested in him?

  After all, Rasheed wasn’t rich like Rose’s family. Plus he was mixed culture.

  The embarrassment in Rose’s eyes when their fingers touched flashed into his mind. Had she also felt the blazing chemistry between them?

  Rose touched his shoulder, and he whipped around. She was standing much closer than he’d expected, and he found himself only an inch away from her face. She gasped and her lips parted. He could feel her warm breath tickling his cheeks.

  “I just wanted to ask if you’re sure about this. I wouldn’t want to disturb your sister’s class.”

  “No, don’t be silly. I think it’ll be good for you. And Aisha, my sister, is always glad when new people come and visit her courses.”

  She bit her lip. “But won’t everyone speak Arabic? Can you at least teach me a basic greeting?”

  A grin spread on Rasheed’s face. Rose was such a sweet person for even considering this aspect. “Sure, I can. But don’t worry, not everyone speaks Arabic in there. Actually Aisha keeps her explanations in English to ensure that all nationalities living here and interested in learning the ancient art of belly dance can benefit.”

  Rose’s tense expression softened. “Good. But could you still teach me, ‘I’m pleased to meet you’?”

  “You can say, tasharafat bimuqabalatik, or the more colloquial, tasharrafna. It means literally, ’we have been honored’. The correct reply is to use the same word. There’s no special expression from Sauda to greet someone new.”

  Rose smiled. “Thanks. By the way, are you originally from Sauda? Your English is perfect and your surname doesn’t sound like it’s from here.”

  Rasheed cocked his head to the side. He hadn’t discussed his origins with his colleagues, though he was sure many had wondered the same thing. Was he going to speak about his family with her?

  He cleared his throat. “My mother is from here. She is a Muslim and she met my father when she studied in Lebanon. Dad is from Texas, and h
e’s Catholic. My sister and I were born in Lebanon then moved to my father’s ranch when we were ten. Somehow life as a cowboy didn’t agree with me, and Aisha always longed to return to this part of the world to perfect her dancing skills. When we turned eighteen, we asked our parents to move back to Sauda. But my mother just had my baby brother and they were happy there. So only Aisha and I took the plunge. We’ve been in Sauda ever since.”

  Rose stared at him wide-eyed. “So you’re half American. My dad would be relieved to know I didn’t go out with a pure Arabic man.” She clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, crap that phrase was wrong on so many levels, I’m sorry.”

  Her face became crimson. The blush made the blue in her eyes appear almost a hue darker.

  Rasheed shook his head. “Don’t worry, I get it. Arabic men don’t always have the best reputation among American women.”

  Rose avoided his gaze. “Not just that. I didn’t want to insinuate…you know that this is like a date or something…I know you asked me because…”

  A smile conquered Rasheed’s lower lip. “Are you sure you know why I asked you to come with me?”

  Rose’s eyes flicked to his and her mouth popped open.

  A sense of guilt snaked through him. He shouldn’t be teasing her like that. If he wasn’t ready to come out and declare his interest for her, then he should just stick to the role of concerned professor. It was better for everyone.

  Before he could correct his provoking comment, the doors of the dance school slammed open and a woman stormed out.

  It was Ramla, one of the dancers. She was rummaging in her sack, without looking up. She came straight at them and bumped her head into Rasheed’s shoulder.

  Ramla jerked back. “Rasheed, madha tafiel?”

  She noticed Rose, and her brows shot up. She immediately switched back to English. “Sorry, I didn’t realize Rasheed had company. I’m Ramla. And you are?” She flashed a smile at Rose.