The Sheikh's Fantasy Girl - Completed.

Chapter Nineteen

When she wasn't doing rewrites on her new story, Andie stretched her legs, walking around the outdoor set with her phone. Quite often she took photos of Shihab, as he talked to the director, in his dark-suited pants, and white shirt. 

She had so many good shots of him. 

Laughing, smiling, serious, staring at something, a hand running through his hair. On the phone, deadly serious with creased lines. He had such stunning features. She breathed him, drawn to him. He was so alive. Now everything she wrote about her sheikh, all she saw was him, in so many different moods.

Stopping, she flicked through her phone photos, enjoying every shot. When she was having a blank moment, he always brought such ideas to her; mainly what she would like to do with him. Her own personal muse. At the moment he was at the resort, making calls. 

She missed his presence.

"What are you looking at my love?"

Screaming, she nearly dropped her phone and swung around, startled.

"Cut!" Mitch snapped and glared at her.

"Sorry, " she mouthed as she was led away by Shihab, who had sneaked up behind her.

"At least you didn't drop down to the ground, eagle spread. I should be grateful for that."

"Shihab," she snarled, slipping her arms around him under his jacket. "You need to learn how to dress down."

He looked down at his dark suit and white shirt that she reached up and undid the top two buttons and opened up. "Enjoying yourself?" She nodded and then pulled back as her phone rang.

"Sorry baby, I have to take this," she pulled away, answering. Shihab strolled away towards Miles. Her publishing company, about her latest book. They had a three-page outline of her story. The one she was writing now. "Yes, I have seen all the proofs. They don't seem right for the cover." She glanced across the desert as Shihab walked into view, his jacket gone, sleeves flicked back, and script in hand as he talked over scenes with the director.

He was the perfect Sheikh. No one could beat that and that was the problem, no one could live up to his looks, status or stance. "Listen, I'd call you back. There's something I need to do, and would send you something if it pans out. I hope to show you exactly what I want." 

Shutting down the phone, she only hoped, she could talk him into it.

Phone in hand, behind her back, she mosey up towards the two men, glancing around lazily without a care in the world that was so far from the truth, waiting for him to be free. She took a deep breath and looked across the vast space of the desert. This was so much better than she expected. 

Her landscape lay before her in vivid gloriousness. 

It all came alive for her, the gentle warm breeze against her skin, tingling, so aware.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Startled she spun around, nose to his broad chest. Strong hands rested on her arms, steadying her.

"Oh, Shihab," she laughed, peering up. "Yes, I did, but got lost in the view."

"Yes," he agreed. "I can see why you have such settings in your books. I am waiting anxiously for your next one."

"So am I and I was hoping you would help me."

A dark brow arched up. "How so?" He asked most curious.

"Can we go for a walk?" She asked instead. "That's if you are finished with Miles? I would never take you away from our film."

He smiled, eyes twinkling. "I am indeed finished. Shall we?" He opened his arm in invitation towards the open desert and then offered his other arm that she took with both of her hands.