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The new Emir spoke to her in an oddly accented French as she moved towards the foot of the bed, «On dit que tu parles le français?»«Maître, oui, » she replied, still very disturbed.Then he asked her name and somehow she found the courage to answer him.«Pourquoi le peur?» he continued.«Maître. Je vous prie de ne pas me ... me tuer, Maître, » she whimpered, the fear really gripping her.She fell to the floor in an abject act of obeisance.«Tous que je veux c'est... » he paused looking for the word, waving his hands up and down." ... jig-a-jig," she supplied and looking up she saw that he did not appear at all angry.That, of itself meant nothing. Some of the most painful episodes in her life had been inflicted by men who were positively enjoying themselves. Then the Emir held out a hand towards her. She moved to kneel at the foot of the bed, ready to approach him as she had been taught. The Emir slipped into bed and lifting the covers she pushed herself slowly under them and up towards the. I asked her if she was seeing anyone and she replied a bit hesitantly that she was. Though I was somewhat curious, I really did not want to pry. After a few more minutes of small talk, we once again parted ways. Still, I could not help but wonder, is she happier without me?My life returned once again to more of the same. I dated other women but somehow it just seemed like I was going through the motions in unfulfilling relationships. I longed for Lynn more than I cared to admit. I could not get her out of my mind.As much as I longed for Lynn I had to be realistic. She was gone out of my life, most likely never to return. Even if we did get together again through some unlikely turn of events, would it really be the same? There was no guarantee that the old passions could ever burn with the same intensity. The loving thoughts that surrounded our relationship belonged to what now seemed like a distant past. Time marches on, never to return. It was not just a matter of would it be the.
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