Chapter 16
I just love the Abdul's Venice pad. Really, it was warm and plush. Reeking expensive at everywhere. I was a bit disheartened that we were only there as a pit stop.
There private jet was huge and Mr and Mrs Abdul, I mean dad and mom- were nice people. They welcome me into their family. The only thing I was afraid of were their daughters, Cleopatra ( Cleo) and Nafera.
Nafera was nineteen according to the file and went to med school. She was in the Egyptian social circle and an expert jockey. She had white blonde hair that complemented her dark skin. She was of medium height and had three ears, a belly, tongue and a nose piercing. Her eyes were the colour of London skies.
Her sister Cleo was thirteen and a jockey just like her sister. Unlike her sister, she was not a socialite, but more of a wallflower. She looked like any other Egyptian girl. The dark hair, pale skin, green eyes and an average height, did nothing but give her a more ordinary look. She was a scholar and got straight A's with hard work.
I was now biting my nails as we were in Cairo International Airport. I smoothed down my extremely short skirt feeling very conscious of how I looked.
" Salaam," said dad to the practically every one
I just said a rude, " Howzit"
I found myself subjected to one of mum's glares. Yep I was sure playing the part of a rebellious teen. They dragged me through customs when I flirted with a security guard and mom threatened to spank me as she pulled me away from kissing another.
I was getting the hung of this. Imagine two whole weeks of this. I watched as they city gave way to villages. Then there it was Ra a big riding village. I recognized Nafera and Cleo as they were riding in an unofficial race against a couple of village boys.
They led the horses to a trot and a gentle halt. They got off and engulfed me in a hug. Just like sisters would after not seeing each other for ages.
Both were dressed more appropriately then I was. In riding tights and long cotton shirts with their riding boots on, the perfect kids. Immediately we started jabbering away in Arabic, subconsciously changing to Farsi and English.
We got home and they immediately got me dressed into something more appropriate before the elders came. Naturally, I refused. There was no way I was blowing wearing that drab. After a full thirty minutes of fighting, they gave up.
At least change they argued. I slipped on a tank top, that barely covered everything; a pair of skinny jeans that hugged my legs till kingdom come and riding boots that I found in the wardrobe. The moment I walked out of the house I was subjected to the glares of old religious fags on the street.
I rolled my eyes and carried on. That is when a pair of arms curled around my waist. I could feel the muscles all over him. I fought against instinct not to panic. Slowly I turned around and faced him.
God, the angels could have given birth to him. He was tall, with jet-black hair, permanently tanned skin and gorgeous green eyes. I didn't know who he was and found myself reacting as he pulled me towards a kiss.
It was hungry; this was just a one off something I could tell. Yet, I still kissed back with the same energy. Then someone ripped us apart. I shouted words at me in Farsi that I dare not repeat.
I paid no mind but gave a flirty wink, before making my way back 'home'. Maybe just maybe this assignment was going to be fun.
A/N: It's good to be back. I'm thoroughly shocked to see that people still read Family. I've decided to redo it by deleting the last chapter and working from there. As always critic is taken to heart and flames are welcome. I'm not going to cook over them. Just a huge thank you to Mrs. Snape Forever 101 who reviewed and bookworm299 who reminded me of this story.