The Untamed Sheikh (a Fazza novel)

Chapter 3: Desert Heat

Spending an entire day in an airplane was beyond exhausting. With a lot of struggles, Piper had managed to practically twist my mom's arm into getting her that ticket to come along with us. She had reluctantly agreed, realizing that whenever Piper made up her mind, she went through with her plans regardless of what she said and she damn well knew whether she got her that ticket or not, she was going to come to Dubai no matter what. So she did not have much of a choice.

Before coming to the endurance event – which was both exciting and nerve-racking because we had no idea what my mom had up her sleeve – she and I had gotten into yet another fight. Whenever someone provoked me, my temper flared up so much that it was practically enough to start a bonfire. So needless to say, the argument between my mom and I ended rather badly with a lot of name-calling and bickering.

"I swear, mom's gotta cool her jets!" I said.

"Agreed. I'm still curious to know why she wanted to bring you here alone."

"That's mom's mystery. I still can't believe how much you two argued over you coming along. But then again, she knows she can't stop you cause you tend to find ways around things, especially things she strictly forbids."

"I think it's what pisses her off from time to time."

"I think we have the same talent for pissing her off. You, for always finding a backdoor to everything she tries to hold back. Me, for being snippy and not letting her manipulate me to her liking."

"You always argue back regardless. You also tend to think with your fists instead of your head, and you can be a bit of a hothead."

"I'm only a hothead when people provoke me. Otherwise, I'm just fine – especially after a few joints."

"Oh yeah, that's for sure" she laughed.

We both looked over at our mom, who was dressed rather fancy and in a dress – attire she only ever wore on special occasions. She was also standing near a man. From afar, he looked familiar, but could not get a clear look to his face. He was wearing a white Kandoura with a red and cream-colored Ghutrah over his head.

"Who's that dude talking to mom?" I asked.

"Who knows" she rolled her eyes. "Mom's been desperate for companionship since dad. I'm not surprised if she found herself, someone, this quickly."

"Remember that one time we spoiled her date with that douche who simply only wanted to get to know mom cause she's a famous endurance rider?" I started laughing at just remembering that evening.

"Oh yeah, and you got crazy" she burst into laughter. "And what was it that you told her?"

"I was like 'Bitch, you need to go home and take care of your family'..." I laughed.

"And ever since then, she seemed to have gotten the idea that as a mom she can't go around thinking she's a teenager and going out like she's single."

"I know. I mean, let's face it. As twisted as it sounds, mom is still young and looks more like our older sister than our mom."

"I know. She can pass for someone in her late twenties or even early thirties. She has not aged one bit and seems to be like a fine wine. The older the better, which in turn makes her eye candy for any creep...especially if they find out she's a former endurance rider."

"That's for damn sure."

"And I also know what you can be like when you get mad. It's like your fists have a mind of their own."