Julie never thought her casual encounter with Tor would turn into anything but a distant memory. But when he tracks her down in the deserts of Wadi Rum, she finds the balance of power shifts in her favor.
Tor just wanted a holiday—not another complicated affair. But there’s something about Julie he can’t resist, even when a business crisis calls him home to Denmark.
Will Tor follow his head and go home to deal with his problems? Or will he follow Julie into Egypt and an uncertain future?
More From Tracking Tor
Barefoot, Julie stepped out of the tent bathroom with her hair pinned up, carrying a bar of soap, a towel and a washcloth. She smiled shyly at Tor as he took her hand and led her outside. She didn’t know what to expect.
Two steaming buckets of water under the desert stars. A gorgeous, generous man, and a whole night ahead of us. If I died right now I wouldn’t be sorry.
“I want you to stand right here. You can hold onto the table for balance.” He rearranged a few of the candles so they illuminated her body, then placed one bucket of water on each side of her and removed the cloth covers. “Perfect.” He ran his hands down along her sides, grabbing ahold of her nightie. “Arms up.”
She raised her arms obediently and he whipped the gown over her head.
It wasn’t exactly cold, she thought as she stood there naked, her feet planted firmly in the sand. The night air was probably the same temperature as the May daytime high back in Vancouver. But after a four-hour camel ride under the blazing sun, she shivered, her nipples turning into little points.
His eyes never leaving her body, Tor wet and soaped the washcloth. “Lift one arm.”
She obliged. He took it gently in one hand and with the other began to wash its length. The air filled with the scent of her jasmine soap. She giggled and squirmed when he reached her underarm.
“Stand still. I’m trying to do a good job here.”
When he was done he filled a cup with clean water and poured it over her. Then again. The warm, soapy water ran down the side of her body, tickling her belly. She noted with satisfaction how quickly it disappeared into the sand at her feet.
“Now the other one.” He was still wearing the striped robe, which made her feel even more naked. Finishing with her arms, he soaped the back of her neck and her shoulders. Now this is starting to feel good.
He massaged her tense muscles with his knowing fingers and she felt herself growing limps under him. Then he sluiced more clean water across her shoulders before soaping her back. As he washed and rinsed her, he talked in a low voice. “You’re so beautiful like this. Your skin is so soft. And now so clean.”
“Thank you, Tor.”
“You like it don’t you? I knew you would. Spread your legs a little. That’s right. Now bend over. Hang onto the table. I need to get you everywhere. You’re going to be the cleanest thing in this entire desert by the time I’m done with you.”
On he went, speaking in a low monotone, with that wonderful Nordic lilt that thrilled her so much. She almost purred as he soaped and kneaded her buttocks, then she winced when the soap stung the sensitive spots on her tailbone where the camel’s saddle had almost rubbed through the skin.
“Ow. My saddle sore. Be careful back there.”
“Saddle sore? Poor baby. Let me kiss it better. Bloody stupid camels. What made you climb onto a goddamned camel?’
Still bent over, she wiggled her hips and laughed as he carefully dried her soft skin. “I had to. It’s in my job description.”
He kissed the inflamed spot gently. “I’m going to rub some ointment on this later. Remind me. You can stand up now. And spread your legs wider apart. That’s right.”
He washed her legs, one at a time, back and front, stopping at what would have been her pantie line––if she’d been wearing panties.
“Now turn around and face me. We’re almost done. Are you cold?”
She shook her head and smiled.
“Good.”
The soapy cloth was at her neck, her collarbones, her breasts. She shivered with pleasure, her nipples, impossibly, getting even harder.
“Are you sure you’re not cold?”
“I’m happy. Can’t you tell the difference?” She smiled.
“Not really.”
“Liar.”
They both laughed as he continued to soap her breasts and belly, she squirming with excitement.
“Do I get to wash you when you’re finished with me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because, my dear lady, I lied about smelling like a horse. I’ve already had my shower today.”
She laughed. “Of course you don’t smell like a horse. You smell like you.” She lowered her voice provocatively. “And I think your scent is the sexiest scent in the world. I swear.”
“Really?” She saw his eyebrows shoot up. “What a coincidence. I think your scent is the sexiest thing I’ve ever buried my face in.”
