Arabian Pleasure

By: Melfina61

Disclaimer: I don't own G/W bla bla bla…it's said in the first few chapters….

A/N: Hey all I'm back….I've got some time on my hands now to finish this thing. If I don't finish it I'll never finish anything. Enjoy! Oh and please review! I need your feedback.

~Chapter 3~

Days pass since Samira last saw Quatre, and it still sent shivers down her spine when she would think of him. Oh yes - she had to agree that he was indeed very handsome, and she had to give her father credit for choosing a good-looking man, other girls might not have been so lucky. Still lucky or not, she didn't want to marry this man - right?

"Allah, tell me what I should do to get out of this, do I even want to get out of this marriage anymore?" Sighing, Samira stood in front of a full body mirror, set beside her bed. Is there any way she can make herself look ugly, less attractive? If Samira appeared less attractive to Quatre, maybe he wouldn't want to marry her. Unfortunately, Allah gave her, her mothers looks and in her time, she was considered to be the most beautiful woman in all of Arabia; according to her father. A curse, that's all she could think of when she looked at herself. Remembering those cold eyes - cold but beautiful and mysterious eyes, Samira pulse began to race. She had to admit to herself that she was attracted to Quatre, there's no doubt about it. Which wasn't a good thing because she was forced to battle with herself to keep hating the man, but it was getting increasingly harder the more she thought about him. She had to think of something and fast. But before Samira could get another thought, her father walked in,

"Habiba? Oh my beautiful little princess. It makes me so happy that you will be married…"

"Yes baba, it makes you happy." Abdul looked at his daughter, puzzled by her reply,

"And what do you mean by that remark?"

"Oh just that it seems that only you are happy with this arrangement. I don't know if I can ever been happy with the man you chose for me." Stung a little by her own words, Samira wasn't too sure if that was true, but forget admitting that to her father.

"But Samira, you saw for yourself, Quatre has a good home, a good life, he is a good man. I only want what's best for you. It makes me feel better knowing that he will give you a good life, since I won't be here forever."

"Oh baba!" Samira hugged her father tightly, "Sure you'll be here forever, don't say such things. Besides if I get married, won't you be lonely without me?"

"My little habiba, don't worry about me, I'll visit you, I promise. Anyway, now that all of that is out of the way, I can tell you what I wanted to tell you since I came into your room. Quatre will be visiting us today, so I want you to look your best. I know that you thought that you wouldn't see him again until the wedding, but Quatre is an unpredictable man, and I assume that he wants to see you again, and to see where you've lived for the past 19 years. Don't worry, I'm sure it will be all right. Now I must go and make some plans for entertainment." Abdul gave Samira one last hug before leaving her room and leaving a very shocked Samira.

******

"Yes, that's right. You get those four invitations out immediately, I don't want it to get to them any day later understand? - Good, don't disappoint me." Setting down his cell phone, Quatre hoped that those invitations would get to Herro, Duo, Wufei and Trowa in time. He at least wanted to see some friendly faces when he got married. Sighing, Quatre ordered the driver to turn left, getting closer to her home - Samira's home - his future wife. The more he thought about this Arabian beauty, flashes of his dreams of her would come crashing down to his senses…

I dream of fire

Those dreams are tied to a horse that would never tire

And in the flames

Her shadow play in the shape of a man's desire

Hitting the leather seat of the limo, Quatre tired to get rid of those thought. Damnit! This wasn't fair! All those dreams and all those thoughts are betraying the very memory of Dorothy. Quatre face darkened, Samira will never replace Dorothy. He may desire her, what man would deny the desire they would feel by Samira's beauty - her innocence. Nevertheless, that didn't mean that Quatre would ever want her, love her the way he loved his Dorothy.

The limo drew closer to her house and Quatre took in the surroundings. Her home was small but elegant, surrounded by flowered, wild and colourful flowers, mostly red, as red as Samira's lips - Damnit! Quatre told the driver to stop, and got out, putting on his sunglasses as the sun embraced him. Mohammad also got out as well, observing Quatre as he had been the entire drive. 'What was in that head of his' Mohammad thought. He stood by his childhood friend and decided that Quatre would tell him what's bothering him in good time.

Having such a powerful demeanour, Quatre was able to attract a lot of attention from various people walking along. Not really paying any attention, Quatre moved to the front door and knocked. Soon after a pretty maidservant opened the door and ushered them into the lounge, where music was playing and dancers dancing. Everyone in the household was there, enjoying the entertainment, everyone except for Samira, Quatre noted. Abdul was there, however, he embraced Quatre and kissed him on both cheeks,

"Asalam Walikum, I hope your journey here wasn't too troublesome. Look, I have brought some entertainment to lighten your spirits as well as all of ours. It has been a while since we had a celebration, and what a celebration this is, my daughter getting married to you fine gentleman. Ha ha, this is a happy day! Come sit and enjoy. Samira will be down shortly." They all sat and watched the entertainment. Mohammad was enjoying himself, as a very curvy dancer was dancing right in front of him. As Mohammad continued to laugh and clap to the music, Quatre started to feel a little at ease. His old self came back for those few moments - laughing and enjoying the fun too. But those moments were as easily gone as they had appeared. As Quatre looked towards the entrance, Samira appeared, looking around the room for her father. Their gazes met finally, and Quatre could feel the familiar pull, that magnetic feeling as he looked into her dark eyes. She stood dressed in red. She was wearing light pants that flowed along her legs with a sheer material wrapped around her waist, her top was long sleeved, and boat necked, showing a little bit of her shoulders and her veil was loosely put around her head, revealing her dark hair. She looked like the roses just outside her home, Quatre thought - a dessert rose.

******

Her heart was racing, leaping and turning. Quatre was here, looking at her with those eyes that seemed to know what she was thinking. What is this feeling? Samira certainly never felt this feeling before. Well whatever it is, it had to stop. After all she was marrying a man with cold and powerful demeanour. Samira absolutely did not want to start to feel for a man who was void of any feelings, especially feelings towards her. Samira took one deep breath and walked to her father,

"Ah Samira, good you're here. Just in time too. Quatre and Mohammad have arrived as you can see." Abdul guided her to where Quatre and Mohammad were sitting. Both stood to greet Samira, she returned the formality and sat next to her father, watching the dancers in the middle of the sitting room.

Samira was thankful that Quatre eventually left the room - seemed he needed to make a phone call. She began to relax and enjoy the music. She stood as dancer swayed towards her, encouraging her to dance along. Samira began to sway her hands to the music, but soon enough her hips followed. She was dancing along with the dancers, however, a bit more modest, as a respectable girl in public. Even so, Samira danced beautifully, swaying her hips back and forth, using her veil to express a teasing mood. Samira was having fun for the first time since she found out about her arranged marriage. She was relaxing and enjoying herself, but completely clueless of the fact that Quatre had returned and was standing near the entrance, watching….

******

She was dancing, right there before him, and Quatre couldn't keep his eyes off her even if his life depended on it. The way she was moving her hips, hiding half of her face, was sending him a secret promise - but what? In those few moments, Quatre saw a fire hidden deep within her, burning alive and free to the beat of the music. Once again, her beauty pulled him in a deep arousal that he couldn't control. 'She has me under a spell' Quatre thought. He was feeling such an intense desire for her at the moment of her dancing heat, he was beginning to think that he hadn't felt this way about anyone - not even - NO! He couldn't think that, he wouldn't allow himself to even doubt his love for his dead wife. As if Samira heard his denial, she gazed at him and froze. Samira realized, for the first time that he had been watching her. She quickly stopped her dance and sat next to her father.

"Abdul," Quatre called, after having to take a few deeps breaths, "I would like to take your daughter shopping. I would like to buy her a few things, early wedding gifts if you will. She is entitled to buy whatever it is that she wants to buy."

"That's a wonderful idea. Samira go on with Quatre, what a nice idea." All Samira could do was nod and follow Quatre and Mohammad out to the limo.

The drive was very tense and stressful. Samira could feel Quatre's gaze and it was making her uneasy. Poor Mohammad was trying to make friendly conversation, which was sorely failing.

"So, Samira, you like to dance, is there anything else that interests you?" Samira felt bad for Mohammad, he was trying to hard to be nice and she was just sitting there like a silent mute. Samira turned, smiled gently and replied,

"I like to read, and I like to sing. My mother would always sing to me. She had a beautiful voice. I just wish I have half the voice she had."

"Oh well I'm sure you do. You're just going to have to sing for me ok?" Mohammad replied, smiling. The limo stopped and Quatre turned to the others,

"We're here. Come Samira. This shop had beautiful things, which I'm sure you'll like." Quatre guided them into the shop and Samira had to agree with him, there were many beautiful things - earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets, veils, dresses, and all sorts of other things. She couldn't decide what she wanted. She looked over at Quatre and watched him looking at various jewels. She shivered at the thought of him buying her these grand things in the shop. She didn't want him to buy her anything. She didn't want to feel like she owed him anything. Quatre is the man she is arranged to marry. She didn't want anything to make her look at him differently. However, she had to admit, it was getting harder and harder the more she thought about him, the more she spoke to him, even with his cold disposition, Quatre posses a quality that Samira could not avoid. She didn't know what it was yet, but she knew that if he was ever willing to show her, she would fall for him.

"Samira, do you like anything in this shop?" She flinched, Samira didn't realize how long she was standing staring at Quatre.

"Yes uh there are many beautiful things but I don't want you to buy me anything. Please take me home now."

"I'm sorry Samira, but I cannot do that. I promised your father that I would buy you a gift and that is my intention. I will not have you going home empty handed." Quatre voice was clipped and demanding.

"I don't want anything," Samira whispered, "What I want is not on these shelves, tables or racks." Quatre stared at her for what seemed like an eternity.

"Look, I know you're not too happy with this match, believe me, I wasn't too keen on the idea either, but I took it as my duty as should you. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt me that what you want is out of this marriage. It doesn't hurt me knowing that you don't feel anything for me. You see, I don't care for you either, it's mere responsibility, an obligation. And as part of my obligation I want for you to pick something out so I can buy it and we will be on out way and not see each other until the wedding." Samira couldn't help but wince. Quatre sounded so cold and heartless and those words hurt. She turned around walked around the shop. Samira could feel Quatre's gaze and it took all the will power she had to not turn and look back at him.

"You know, you didn't have to be so harsh to her. She was offended I'm sure, maybe even hurt." Mohammad suggested.

"Mohammad, it's what she wanted to hear and I was more than happy to remind her of that information. If she's hurt by what I said then it's not my fault, it just shows weakness and I will not be subjected to weakness like Samira's." He said those words, and he meant those words but he just couldn't believe those words as the image of her hurt, her sad dark eyes played across his mind. 'She doesn't care for me and I don't for her so anything I say shouldn't hurt her or make me feel guilty' Quatre thought. However, he wasn't so sure anymore.

About a half an hour of looking around, Samira close a book form the back self - "Arabian Nights". She always loved that story. Both her mother and father would tell it to her every night, then it was just her father. She always wanted to get the book and read it, even read it to her children one day. She gave the book to Quatre, whom with raised eyebrows, questioned her choice. He took the book from her and bought it, not saying one word to her. After the purchase was made Quatre, Samira and Mohammad headed back to the limo. The drive home was done purely in silence, even Mohammad ceased to make any sort of conversation and as soon as the limo stopped, Samira got out and walked as quickly as she could to the front door. Just then, her father opened the door,

"I hope you have fun habiba. Quatre," Abdul called as Quatre stepped out of the limo, "Thank you for taking her out. Come in and lets talk some more."

"Thank you Abdul but I'm afraid I have to decline, I have some business to attend to. I'm sure you understand. I will see you on the day of the wedding." Quatre gazed at Samira and smiled - which didn't quit reach his eyes, "Samira, I'm impatiently waiting for the day that you will be my wife, until then good day my desert rose." Quatre got into the limo and soon Samira house was but a speck in the horizon and all he could see, was a picture of Samira dancing before him, in that red attire, her body moving, craving to be touched - Allah! Quatre already knew what would be haunting his dreams that night and every night to come.

~TO BE CONTINUED~

Note: Well what do you all think? Good things I hope. And I want to make a shout out to my one faithful fan who's been bugging me to no end to finish the damn story. She's been my inspiration to finish and I have to. If I don't how the heck and I ever gonna become a good writer? Well I'll leave you all with these words of wisdom: Come forth and dance with the passion of Arabian Pleasure. ^_^