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eBook Category: Erotica/Multicultural-Interracial Erotica
eBook Description: Who will be taming who? Or will there be meeting of the spirits? It is the bright and modern world of 1953; Miss Sybil is determined to prove herself as capable as any man. She has crossed two continents on a quest to find the perfect horses to become the foundation stock for her stables. In a small bazaar in a West African city, she believes the mare she has found is a perfect example of the Arabian Horse breed. Sybil's dreams seem within her grasp, even as she realizes that she has found not only the horse of her dreams, but a man who is more than she ever imagined. This horse-lover's romance twines horses, one incredible handsome man, and a lovely young woman with a quest?

eBook Publisher: Red Rose Publishing/Desert Rose - Sheikhs, Published: 2008-02-28, 2008
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2008

4 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [61 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [102 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [29 KB] , Portable Document Format (PDF) [269 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [28 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [139 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [97 KB] , hiebook (KML) [135 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [116 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [24 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [50 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [111 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [46 KB]
Words: 8571
Reading time: 24-34 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 9781604350609

The wind blew an endless flurry of desert sand between the square, plain brown buildings into homes, food, and faces. In sharp contrast, brilliant, exotic colors filled market square; not to mention the exotic animals. The sounds and smell of camels were a backdrop to everything from the shouts of vendors hawking food or clothes or animals to the constant chatter of hagglers. Sand was the other constant. It seemed Timbuktu must soon disappear beneath Sahara's endlessly swirling sand.

Sybil Taylor gave no thought to the activity of the street. The mesmerizing strangeness that had met her a mere week ago was familiar enough now, though it would never be comfortably so. It was enough to have provided her dream.

The fine Arabian mare was bewitching. She had the huge black, liquid looking eyes, which the best of her breed were known for, and a head so delicate it might have been chiseled of marble.

The mare trembled like a deer as the dark man ran his hand gently down her near foreleg, then lifted it to study the base of the hoof. Each muscle stood out taught on his arm, mirroring the fine boned muscular structure of the mare's leg. Both sweated gently in the afternoon heat. Sybil leaned forward hesitantly. She had seen this man, the horse-trader, each afternoon for four days in succession, and on each day, he seemed more tense, more angry.

Perhaps it was merely that she had been slow to purchase one of the horses he had offered. It seemed like something more, however. She did not know his religion, was unsure, in fact, of the man's ethnicity. She wondered if she had offended, somehow.

His complexion a middling red-gold was not unlike many of the area people, though his features were as sharply chiseled as his finest horses. Beneath his heavy turban, she could not judge his hair color, but if it matched his eyebrows and beard, blacker than night black it would be. He spoke careful, correct English, but she had heard him address another buyer in perfect French too.

The man was an enigma, but then, many in the isolated city of Timbuktu seemed non-native: businessmen, tradesmen, and wanderers. If most were not native, how would any know exactly of the type and mind of the person they dealt with? Likely, she reminded herself, he had doubts about her as well. Or, he saw her as a selfish young woman being endlessly catered to, exactly as a good many other people saw her. Few understood obsession.

The man nodded once, sharply. The mare seemed to study him as if judging his quality in return. Sybil walked slowly forward. "Is it all right?" she asked softly, almost whispering.

"It will do," the man growled. "No lasting harm." He walked abruptly away from the mare and Sybil, for whom this day, this trip, this one horse was the magical fulfillment of a dream, could not help but turn and look after the tall, dark man. His dark features seemed so wildly exotic, his sharp eyes entrancing. He swaggered as he walked, but not with bravado she thought. It was simply his walk. It was the sure step of a powerful man, the attitude of a leader of men. How had he come to be here? Born another place, another time, she mused, he would surely have been a king, a leader, a warrior.