"His deep voice was soft as the waters in the bay on a summer night and his words were the most magical I had ever heard. They sent a thrill racing through my body like a hundred tiny Arab horses galloping down my spine.
I closed my eyes with an effort to shut out his face, then opened them again, the tension of his loving words made me want to touch his lips and trace the soft bow of his mouth…" But Noor, a beautiful Bahraini girl is a Muslim and dares not even expose her face to the Canadian Andrew McInnis with whom she was falling desperately in love. Her father's stern presence never leaves the two alone. And yet under his very nose the lovers secretly plot to run away even though it could mean that the family, at Noor's father's bidding, would hunt them down and kill them. Do they escape? Will Noor have the nerve to follow Andrew's plan? Will centuries of upbringing prevent these two young lovers from following their hearts?
Every day for twelve days he came and looked at the carpets and he'd take them back to his inn. This was in the days before modern hotels had opened in our country. Every day he'd return. On the thirteenth day I said to him, whispering between the explanation of the number of knots in a Qum and the use of vegetable dyes, "You must decide soon on a carpet. My father will become suspicious and I tell you by my life, after you leave if anyone should ever find out, I will be killed and thrown in the sea or the desert to the south of our island, I would not be given a proper burial. For you I would do it, but I could not bear the thought that you would be treated the same way. They will find you somewhere and you will surely die a cruel and messy death. You do not understand the inheritance of my people. The dishonour to my family would be too much. After I should be killed, my father would probably die too, of shame. He would be heartbroken. None of the sons is capable as yet of taking over the business."
I glanced at my father he seemed to be lost in thought behind the plumes of smoke from his sheesha…
…"Then you must come with me," he whispered back, a trace of urgency in his voice, "we will escape."
"I cannot," I answered, still whispering, "How will I leave this place?" At that moment I was frantic. My heart beat so fast at the thought of, what, freedom? … Yet the thought of being with him always, of feeling those strong arms around me. His sweet breath on my face. And of not having to fear for my life seemed the most thrilling unbelievable thing in the world.