Twice Loved at Armageddon

Chapter One

Farah asked Scott, " Can you wait until I change? I just went home and brought back  something that'll knock your socks off."  She could see Yigal smiling behind Scott out of the corner of her eye as she left the archaeological dig's project trailer.

"Oh, Farah, I have been waiting weeks for you to say that!"

Scott turned to Yigal, still smiling.  He said, " Scott, I've known all along how you and Farah would turn out."  He patted him on the back as he started toward the trailer door. "I look forward to the nuptials." Then he slipped out, leaving Scott panting in anticipation over what Farah would be wearing.

In a few minutes Farah returned to the project trailer wearing a full red skirt with matching, form-fitting pullover top that accented her curves.  Just loose enough to allow comfortable movement. Her neck line revealed only enough cleavage to emphasize  her stunning Syrian femininity.

Scott closed his eyes and opened them to make sure she was real. "Oh, Farah, you're so fine!"

"I have something even sexier to wear for you after our wedding."

"Wow!" he said. "Tonight this is all I care for other men to see you wearing.  By the way, something smells delicious."

She stepped to the stove with the grace of a model and bent over to open its door. The lilt of her black hair was overwhelming as she turned back to him and smiled.

"My mother taught me how to prepare this meal, but it's not native Syrian." Farah donned an apron.

After weeks of working in khaki slacks and cotton tops, that night Farah took the sensuous pleasure to give this man she was to marry a glimpse of what their future, incredible life together would be like.

She opened the trailer's small oven and brought forth a small, warm loaf of course, dark, round bread.

Scott was overcome with its spicy fragrance as much as with Farah.  As he took a deep breath of its sweetness, she became all the more desirable.

She then placed it on the table. He seem to drink from her lovely eyes themselves, as she  smiled up at him and asked, "Scott, will you bring two earthenware mugs from that cabinet?"

"Sure," he answered.

"This is not a feast for an emperor but a snack of sorts," she said. "Slaves used to serve it to Roman soldiers, not to officers. But they did not know what they were missing in those days. We have margarine, almonds, figs, pears, and grapes. This drink is called Mulsum, a warm wine mixed Roman style with honey and water."

She filled their mugs and sat down. Even the gentle pressure of her leg against his excited him.

Willing to try anything once, Scott first sipped his drink and then could not put it down.  "You know, this is quite good. The ancients really had it together. This is so amazing, so authentic that I fanaticize that you actually are entertaining me like a Roman officer."

"Oh, my handsome husband-to-be."  She took him by the arm and kissed his cheek.  "This is for a foot soldier.  They didn't really have it so bad in those days."  She kissed him again.  "Do you feel Roman yet? Just wait."

Farah smiled, her warm leg making contact with his again.  She cut a slice of warm bread and spread margarine on it. She lay her head on his shoulder as she first fed it to Scott and then the grapes, one by one.

She kissed each grape with her soft ruby lips first before feeding it to him. Now and then she had him kiss one that she took for herself.  As she hand-fed him bread, she could hear his breathing deepen. She said, "In ancient times, this is how we Syrian women treated our men from betrothal until after consummation. Could it be you thought that my being Doctor Farah Abed, Head of Archaeology at Hebrew University, means that I'm just another modern feminist?"  She kissed him.  "You don't know what you are in for!"