It's too hot in the desert (to launch a counter argument)
Bryan Woodman found himself sweating despite the light linen of his suit. Even in the air conditioning it's far too hot. He looked at Nasir, clad in white, looking cool as a New England morning, and began to wonder what the prince looked with sweet on his skin.
"My wife..."
"Is barely your wife, on the other side of the world, furious for what I can give you."
The prince has dressed him in white, taken him on a horse into the cool desert night. Like a scene from a movie, the sand under the blankets shifted and moulded to his prone form. He shivered for more reasons than he was willing to think about.
"Your wife..."
"Is my best friend, the mother of my child, and rather devoted to one of her handmaidens."
Bryan twisted and hissed beneath the prince's hands and teeth. He let the tears flow from his eyes. Nasir licked them away, whispering harshly in words he didn't understand, didn't care to understand. He screamed his voice raw knowing the desert would swallow up the sound.
"Your people..."
"Will not be surprised by a foreign concubine" Bryan twisted his lips. "I'm your financial adviser." Prince Nasir Al-Subaai cracked a smile. "That to."
He made no sound stumbling away from the wreckage. He did not cry at the broken ribs. He made not sound when the needle slid in and out of his skin closing the gaping wounds. He wept when the bite marks began to fade and did not return home till they were gone.