She pushed the vision from her mind once again. Was she crazy? Or worse yet, was she beginning to care for him? How did she feel about him? She was afraid to explore her feelings, afraid of what she would learn. Oh God, she had to get out of here before she went insane.
She watched the ripples her feet made as they spread out across the surface of the water, until a deep male voice interrupted her thoughts of escape.
"So here you are."
Sara watched him approach with reluctant admiration for the figure he presented in his white, flowing robe draped over his wide shoulders. The white silk shirt underneath, open at the neck exposing a lightly furred chest, was tapered to fit his trim waist, which was bound with a wide sash of gold and black. He wore riding breeches and leather boots, and smelled of horse and sweat.
"You will get heat stroke out here." he cautioned.
"I'm very careful." she responded tersely.
"That is good. I would not want my golden bird to get roasted." He chuckled.
Sara wrinkled her nose at his joke and allowed him to help her get up. They strolled silently through the garden and went into Sara's sitting/dining room. It was cool inside. Rashid gestured to a silver ice bucket containing a bottle and two glasses, elegantly placed on the low round table in the center of the room.
"I worked up quite a thirst and took the liberty of assuming you would enjoy sharing a bottle of champagne with me." He plopped down on one of the large cushions arrayed around the table and then proceeded to open the wine.
Sara took the glass Rashid offered, and her eyes locked into his as she searched for ... for what? There were no answers there, only questions. She looked away.
"Tell me about the golden bird that is worked into the designs of this room. There must be a story connected to it."
Rashid chuckled, "Yes indeed. I wondered when you would start asking about that. It is quite a long one." he warned.
Sara casually arranged herself on the cushion opposite him and said, a bit sarcastically, "I have nothing but time."
He ignored her tone. "Very well, I will tell it: A long, long time ago one of my ancestors, who's name was Ahmal, found a small golden bird. Her wing was broken, so Ahmal carefully carried the bird to his tent. He cared for the bird and fed the tiny creature food that he first chewed himself. And while she healed, Ahmal spent all his free time constructing a cage out of straw.