Close to the Heart

by Rebecca Stratton

  Alarmed by the unexpected, she hesitated about going in, and she sensed Geoffrey's watching eyes as he stood in the deserted street behind her. 'Lisa?'

  His whispered query roused her, and she used one hand to signal him to silence, then stepped inside. 'It's all right,' she told him, over her shoulder. Tm just getting my bearings, that's all.'

  It was dark and it smelled damp and cold, but she could see a glimpse of light at the far end and just catch the vague, indeterminate sound of voices, unrecognisable at first, but then strangely reassuring. Making up her mind, she turned and gave Geoffrey a brief wave, then closed the door carefully behind her.

  Her hands were unsteady as she gathered her skirts about her to keep them from brushing on the walls, and she made her way slowly along the narrow passage,

  keeping her eyes all the time on the promise of light at the other end. She emerged rather sooner than she expected, and coming suddenly into the fresh air was almost like being released from prison, although she had thought enough to remain back in the shadows until she decided on her next move. She was in, but the most difficult part of her errand still lay ahead of her, and she had to admit to not having the slightest idea how to go about finding Yusuf ben Dacra, let alone passing on the group's message.

  She stood at one end of a large patio that was not quite square, and the high walls on this side were draped with curtains of purple bougainvillea and shadowed by the fern-like spread of jacarandas that stirred lightly in the wind. The patio was bordered on three sides by flowers that overflowed on to the paved surface and spilled blooms of every conceivable colour in riotous extravagance, while in the centre of it all an enormous fountain tinkled and splashed into a wide stone basin.

  It was a delightful place and at any other time Lisa would have paused to enjoy it; now she could think of nothing but the errand she had been entrusted with. She still could not recognise either excitement or fear for certain, but suspected that it was a mingling of the two that made her feel slightly sick as she stood there hesitating.

  'Bonsoir, mademoiselle!'

  Lisa swung round quickly and was so obviously startled that the young man who had spoken raised a curious brow. 'I—I'm sorry/ she whispered, hastily gathering her wits together. 'I didn't see you there.'

  'Ah! You are English—I had assumed you to be French.' He used slim brown hands to suggest her slender shape and his eyes skimmed over her approvingly. 'So— chic, eh?'

  Lisa smiled. It was impossible not to after such a

  CLOSE TO THE HEART YJ

  compliment, and he had the kind of face that women would always smile at. He was about twenty-five or six and darkly handsome as so many Moroccans were, but to Lisa he was also a possible ally. As a guest at the Sheik's party he would almost certainly know the man she sought, even if only by sight. She had hoped to remain undetected for a little longer, but perhaps it was as well to be plunged into the task before she had time to see too many drawbacks and lose her nerve.

  But her obvious uneasiness must have puzzled him, for he was eyeing her with a hint of speculation that suggested he was less blithely offhand than he appeared. 'You appear to be somewhat uneasy/ he said. 'Surely you have not been deserted by your partner? Some men are such fools that it is hard to credit their foolishness!'

  Lisa shook her head. 'Oh no, I haven't been deserted/

  Obviously more intrigued than ever, he cocked his dark head to one side and studied her for a second. 'You are not here alone! I will not believe that you have come here alone—no man worthy of the name would allow such a state of affairs!'

  In other circumstances, Lisa guessed, she would have enjoyed flirting with him, for he was a very attractive man, but she had other things on her mind at the moment, so she simply smiled a little absently. Not the kind of reception he was accustomed to, she suspected, but he drew one hand from his pocket and offered it with another smile.

  'I am Yacub ben Abahn el Boudri/ he told her, and his expression assumed she would recognise his connection with the Sheik.

  The fact that she had been discovered by one of the Sheik's family could be an advantage, but then again he could well prove less friendly once he knew why she was there. She shook his hand but refrained from telling him her own name because she preferred to keep her

  identity quiet at the moment* Instead she felt her way carefully,

  Tou're Sheik Abahn's son?' she guessed, and white teeth once more beamed in a smile.

  'One of them/ he agreed. 'I am the youngest one, to be accurate; I have six brothers.' Probably counting his adopted brother, Yusuf ben Dacra, Lisa thought, once more charmed by that smile. 'But you are not interested in my brothers, eh? They are all married, except one, and I am not; not so far. That is in my favour, yes?'

  'You speak very good English,' Lisa ventured, wanting to bring the subject round to Yusuf ben Dacra, but not quite knowing how to at the moment. 'Were you educated in England, Mr Boudri?'

  'My father was, and four of my brothers.' He replied readily, but when he leaned back against the trunk of a jacaranda his eyes were as curious as they were appreciative. 'Also my adopted brother is something of a linguist and taught our young sister English, so that I feel I must not be outdone.'

  It was the opening Lisa needed and she pounced on it. That's Yusuf ben Dacra ?'

  He was more intrigued than ever and the velvet-dark eyes quizzed her hi their turn. 'You know Yusuf?' he asked.

  Lisa's tongue flicked anxiously over her lips. 'As a matter of fact I came especially to see him/ she admitted, and Yacub Boudri's black brows arched swiftly in surprise. 'It's rather important that I see him tonight; I'd be very grateful if you'd point him out to me.'

  'You have to see him on a matter of importance, and yet you do not know him even by sight ?'

  Lisa could understand his confusion, but she was so close now and she could not afford to let this chance slip away from her. 'I have something vital to say to him/ she pleaded, watching through her lashes to see

  what effect her appeal was having. 'It's a—a matter of business—urgent business.'

  'So?' Lisa doubted very much if he believed her, and yet she had the feeling that he would, eventually, either point out Yusuf ben Dacra to her or take her in to see him. 'I admit to being intrigued,' he told her, still with a trace of a smile. 'I have never before known my brother to do business with a lovely young woman, it is not like him at all.' The bright, mischievous eyes swept over her flushed face and he smiled broadly again. 'But then perhaps this is not the customary type of business that Yusuf does, eh?'

  'Oh, but it isn't anything like that ' Lisa stopped

  short, a flush warming her cheeks when she saw the way he was smiling. Perhaps she should have let him go on believing it was for sentimental reasons that she wanted to see Yusuf ben Dacra, then he would have been more ready to help her. But it was too late now, she had denied it too earnestly. 'I would be very grateful if you'd point him out to me,' she said, and Yacub Boudri nodded.

  'Better than that,' he promised, and laid a hand on her arm. 'I will ask Yusuf to come out here and see you —on a matter of business, eh?' His sudden laughter suggested he did not for a moment believe she had anything as mundane as business in mind when she saw his brother, but that he was intrigued enough to play along. 'One thing I will warn you of,' he said, more soberly suddenly. 'If you have managed to fool me, you will not find Yusuf so easy; nor is he so tolerant of intruders, however lovely they are. You will remember that, eh?'

  He was generous in the circumstances, Lisa thought, guessing she was there without an invitation, to let her know that his brother would be less tolerant, 'I'll remember,' she promised. Thank you.'

  He gave a light shrug, as if he resigned himself to the fact that it was his adopted brother and not he in whom

  she was most interested, and Lisa watched him cross the patio towards the house. She was anxious but excited as well by the possibility of risk in the situation, and she took advantage of her bre
athing space to admire the garden.

  It was breathtaking with its profusion of blossoms and scents, and it was rather surprising to realise that here in this walled garden, she was far more aware of the light of the moon than she had been in the street outside, despite the light coming from the house. It gave a softness and beauty to everything and sat like some benign god in the purple night sky above the trees.

  Behind her was the tunnel-like passage by which she had come in only a very short time before, and growing beside it was a magnificent magnolia, its waxen blossoms gleaming white in the moonlight. It was irresistible to take the few steps necessary to bring her close to it, and she bent her head for a moment to inhale the perfume, everything else forgotten for a few seconds.

  It was when she straightened up and glanced once more across the gardens that she realised she was about to meet Yusuf ben Dacra face to face, and she caught her breath sharply. The length and purposefulness of his stride made it obvious that he took as much exception to her message as Yacub Boudri had anticipated, and it was all she could do not to turn and disappear into that dark, cold passage again.

  He had a certain air about him, an arrogance that matched the character she had already attributed to her quarry. Also he was tall and ruggedly masculine, with dark hair and eyes and a skin the colour of teak, and he held his head at an angle that emphasised the strong hawkishness of his profile as he skirted the stone basin of the fountain with long angry strides.

  High cheekbones and an almost Roman nose combined with a firm straight mouth to suggest the harsh-

  ness Lisa had been led to believe he was capable of. He wore a light blue shirt, and a white suit set off his darkness as well as emphasised the length of his legs and the leanness of his body. He looked like a man who would let nothing stand in his way, and knowing she was expected to tell him of the group's plans regarding his latest project, made Lisa quake inwardly.

  He made the quite un-Moroccan gesture of dispensing with a polite greeting and came directly to the point, and Lisa guessed that his brother had also passed on the information that she was not an invited guest. 'I do not know who you are, mademoiselle,* he said in a deep and very attractive voice, 'but I demand to know for what reason you informed my brother that you had urgent business with me/

  His gaze was fierce and direct, and a few moments under its scrutiny made Lisa feel that she had been stripped naked and judged harshly, so that she needed to summon all her courage to say what she had to say. Tou are Yusuf ben Dacra V

  A curt nod confirmed what she already knew. Tou have no connection with either my business or my private life/ he told her. 'I therefore assume that you have some ulterior motive for seeking me out, mademoiselle. And since I am not in the habit of leaving important guests to answer mysterious summonses from unidentified females, you may count yourself lucky that I am simply ordering you off my father's property and not taking stronger action. Goodnight!'

  Lisa passed the tip of her tongue across her lips in a gesture that was unconscious but revealing, and she spoke up quickly before he could turn away. 'I've been sent to warn you, Yusuf ben Dacra! -

  The dark eyes narrowed slightly, glittering with contempt but curious too. 'You have been sent to warn me?' He swept his gaze over her in a swift explicit

  survey that aroused every nerve in her body. 'You have been sent to warn me?'

  'If you'll just give me chance to say what I came to

  say ' Lisa began, but was cut short by the dismissive

  gesture of one big hand.

  'I have not the slightest desire to listen to anything you may have to say, mademoiselle, and you will leave at once by the same method in which you entered, or I shall take appropriate steps to have you removed!'

  Too staggered for a moment to say anything, Lisa stared at him, but when he half-turned and would have left her, she spoke up, her temper flaring and her eyes gleaming determinedly. 'I haven't '

  Once more the relentless voice cut her short, bulldozing her into silence. 'Do you deny that you entered by way of the street door?' he demanded, and reached out to take a handful of soft yellow silk, the pull of his strong fingers exerting so much force that the scarf was snatched from her head. Thrusting it on to her notice, he showed her a streak of damp mould that must have come from the chill walls of the passageway. 'You are an interloper, and if you are not gone from here within the next few seconds you will see the inside of a police cell!'

  Lisa was trembling, but not altogether with fear, she realised. She was angry and also oddly excited, a mood that she was at a complete loss to understand. 'You can't have me arrested simply because I came in uninvited,' she declared, and blinked when she caught a brief glimpse of something other than anger in the dark eyes for a moment. 'I won't leave until '

  She let out a cry of alarm when hard strong fingers closed tightly about her upper arm and she was half dragged, half led round to the entrance of the narrow tunnel. Struggling against the bruising grip and stumbling in her haste, she was hauled unceremoniously

  along the gloomy passage to the gate, making vague, indignant threats in a breathlessly small voice.

  Inside there was no glimmer of light showing as there had been when she came in, and she was alone in the close confines of the cold walls and low roof with a man who obviously had no qualms about manhandling a woman. He was silent, but it was a furious silence, and the lean, angry body striding beside her bumped her against the stone walls as they went.

  Then the door opened, just far enough for her slender form to be pushed through into the street with sufficient force to send her staggering right across the narrow footpath. Breathless and bewildered, she heard the dull echo of the heavy wooden door being closed firmly, and the sound of a key being turned. It was too late by the time she noticed that her scarf had been pulled from her shoulders when she was thrust out into the street, and it was caught irretrievably between the door and its frame, trailing down on to the path like a streak of yellow paint

  Taken by surprise by her sudden appearance as he was, it took Geoffrey a moment or two to realise what had happened and in the ensuing silence Lisa heard the faintest echo of firm footsteps going back along the passageway. Recovering hastily, Geoffrey came around to join her, taking her protectively into his arms while he looked down into her flushed face.

  She was still trembling, but she believed it was with anger rather than any other emotion, and she looked up at him with a rueful smile.

  'I muffed it,' she confessed, and Geoffrey ga^eed at her anxiously. Somehow, she thought, his handsome features looked strangely pallid after the teak-dark fierceness of Yusuf ben Dacra.

  'Are you all right?' he asked. *What happened, Lisa? Did they find you too soon V

  Recollection made her more angry than ever, and when she considered the cavalier way she had been tossed out into the street, her determination to stop him having his way with the village of Zobi was stronger than ever it had been. The battle with Yusuf ben Dacra was a personal thing now and she would see it through to the bitter end.

  'He threw me out this time,' she told Geoffrey with a gleam in her blue eyes. 'But I've no intention of letting him get away with it—I'll make him listen to me one way or another!'

  4 I don't like the idea/ Geoffrey muttered, and Lisa surprised herself by feeling a twinge of impatience with his caution.

  'You don't have to/ she told him, brushing down her dress before she got back into the car. Tackling Yusuf ben Dacra is my part in the plan, and I'll find some way of getting to him, I promise you 1'

  CHAPTER TWO

  It would make things so much easier, Lisa thought, if she knew just when Yusuf ben Dacra intended starting on the destruction of Zobi to make way for his luxury hotel. She was annoyed with herself for failing the previous evening, and especially when she had been face to face with the man, but he had been so different from what she expected. True, he had proved just as hard and unfeeling as she had been led to believe, but she was forced to
recognise that there was something more to him than that. Something that aroused other emotions than anger, and his forceful handling of the situation last night had put her completely off her stroke.

  Just the same, a night's sleep had done nothing to diminish her determination, and while she finished her breakfast coffee she mused on other ways to get to Yusuf ben Dacra. Every so often, and quite unconsciously, one hand strayed to her left arm where his hard fingers had left their impression, and whenever she remembered her humiliating exit from Sheik Abahn's property she was more determined than ever to make up for her failure.

  Geoffrey was always busy during the day, at the Embassy in Rabat, and she was never very keen on joining the rest of the group unless he was with her, so that she had decided to drive a little way along the coast on her own, and try to think up an alternative plan for tackling Yusuf ben Dacra. Driving always seemed to aid her thought processes, and she never tired of the view from the coast road.

  It was scorchingly hot as she drove along Boulevard

  Sour Djedid towards the P2 coastal highway, but as soon as she got out of town and on to the corniche it was different. There was a light wind off the water that came in through the open window of her car and cooled her face and arms while she admired the scenery.

  Rocky cliffs strode downward to the sea and stood with their feet in Atlantic rollers that foamed and pounded themselves to destruction in a shower of rainbow spray. It held a fascination for Lisa that she could never quite explain, but made it almost compulsory for her to come back to it again and again.

  Not very far out of town there was a spot she had found quite by accident, where it was possible, with care, to drive some way off the road and on to a kind of rocky lay-by. An unofficial one, it was true, and not the kind of place many drivers would care to take their cars, but familiarity had perhaps made Lisa less wary than she had been on her first visit.

  As long as she stopped short of where the rocks sloped steeply to the sea, it was safe enough, she felt, and she could sit just a little further on and look down in solitary grandeur at the endless pounding of the Atlantic. It was a splendid place to relax, she knew from experience.