Touch the Horizon

by Iris Johansen

  And everywhere they went David was known and greeted. From the bazaar vendors to the little boy playing with his friends in the street he received warm smiles and was hailed with evidence of affection. Billie knew enough Arabic to get the gist of most of the salutations, but they addressed him with a word that was totally unfamiliar to her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her brow knitted. “They’re calling you ‘Lisan.’ What does that mean?”

  To her amazement a dark flush mottled his cheeks. “It’s a Sedikhan word,” he said gruffly. “It’s just a nickname they gave me when I first arrived in Zalandan.” He lifted his arm, pointing, and said hurriedly. “The Casbah is just beyond that white stone wall.”

  If she’d thought Zalandan looked like a fortress, the Casbah was one in reality. The gate was guarded by two husky young men in the olive-green uniform of the Sedikhan army. They were standing at attention, their rifles slung over their shoulders with casual competence.

  “Guns?” Billie asked bewilderedly. “And those uniforms are the real thing. I’ve seen soldiers in the streets of Marasef dressed like that. What kind of a place is this?”

  They entered a huge flagstoned courtyard, and the building it fronted was more like a palace than a simple residence. Its arched windows and fretted balconies were like something from an Oriental dream. There was nothing dreamlike, though, about the two additional soldiers who stood on either side of the carved teak double doors of the front entrance.

  “This is my home.” David said soothingly. “You’ll get used to the soldiers. They don’t intrude at all, and you’ll find they’re very friendly once you get to know them. They only appear ferocious because Karim has them so intimidated. They’re afraid even of smiling in case it’s a breach of discipline.”

  “Karim? Who’s Karim?”

  “Karim is my friend. The Casbah belongs to him.” David halted the stallion by a fountain and slipped blithely from the saddle. He tossed the reins to a grinning, white-clad boy who appeared out of nowhere. He lifted Billie down, and the boy led the horse away. “A very possessive fellow, Karim,” he said lightly. “Sometimes I think he believes the whole world belongs to him.”

  “A good portion of it does,” the heavyset man who emerged from the house said crisply. Dressed in dark jeans and a gray turtleneck sweater, his massive figure looked even more intimidating than the soldiers. He was somewhere in his fifties, his curly brown hair sprinkled lightly with gray and his rough craggy features creased in a frown. “And he’s gobbling up more every day.” His light blue eyes were definitely annoyed. “And you just may be next on the menu. Karim’s been frothing at the mouth since he found out you went out again without a guard.”

  “He’ll get over it.” David said casually. “He knows I’m not going to submit to being trailed around like some comic-opera Ali Baba with his entourage. We’ve gone into all that before.” He turned to Billie. “This irate gentleman is Clancy Donahue, Billie. He’s head of Alex’s security forces, but is on special assignment, trying to make my life miserable for the next few months. This is Billie Callahan, Clancy.”

  “Delighted,” Donahue growled, barely glancing at her. “Better miserable than dead, David. Ladram is still out there somewhere, remember? If anything happened to you, I’d catch such hell from Alex and Sabrina, not to mention Karim, that I might as well resign from the human race.”

  “But nothing’s going to happen to me,” David said lightly. “I can take care of myself without a battery of bodyguards. You should know that better than anyone, Clancy. You’re the one who taught me.”

  “Karate and judo aren’t going to do you much good if Ladram decides to pick you off in an ambush.”

  “With a rifle?” David shook his head. “Ladram is a knife man. Every note he’s sent me elaborates on the intense joy he’s going to get from slicing off various portions of my anatomy. He’s not going to give up that kick just to play it safe. A rifle would be too impersonal for him.”

  “Wait a minute.” Billie held up her hand. “I know I’m supposed to be quietly ignoring the conversation like a good little guest, but you’re driving me crazy. What the devil is going on? I feel like I’ve just stepped back onto a movie set.” She shook her head. “No, that was more realistic than this. Guns and soldiers and knives. Why should your friend need a security force? Who are Alex and Sabrina? I think you should have left me back in that sandstorm. Everything was a lot clearer there.”

  “Sorry.” David’s smile was penitent. “We have been rude, haven’t we, Billie? You have a perfect right to be confused. Let’s see, what was the first question? Oh, the security force. Karim Ben Raschid still has a hell of a lot of enemies. A man who holds his position for almost fifty years doesn’t necessarily shed them when he relinquishes his power. He officially gave up the sheikhdom to Alex four years ago, but he still wields an enormous amount of clout and can’t resist dabbling occasionally.”

  “More than occasionally,” Donahue snorted. “I think he’s wheeling and dealing more now on the QT than he did when he was the reigning monarch of Sedikhan.”

  “Karim Ben Raschid,” Billie repeated in bewilderment. “Your friend is the former ruler of Sedikhan? Then, Alex Ben Raschid, the present monarch, is his grandson. And Sabrina?”

  “Is his wife,” David said. His hand had propelled her up three shallow steps, and he was opening the front door. “An American, by the way. We grew up together on neighboring ranches in Texas. You’ll like her, windflower. She’s a very special lady. She’s in Marasef at the moment, but I’ll give her a call and see if she and Alex can fly out to meet you.”

  “You just give heads of state a ring and they drop everything and come running?” Billie shook her head dazedly. “Who are you, David?”

  “No one important, I’m afraid,” David said, his eyes twinkling. “I’m a poor peasant in a nest of power figures. Naturally Alex and Bree will come only if it’s convenient.”

  Donahue’s snort was much more pronounced this time. “You know damn well they’ll come if you ask them.” he said gruffly. “The last time I talked to them on the phone, they were wondering when you were coming home.”

  “Zalandan isn’t your home?” Billie asked.

  David shrugged. “I usually divide my time between Marasef and here. You might say they’re both my homes.”

  Her thoughts were whirling, but she suddenly remembered another bit of conversation. “Ladram. Who’s Ladram?”

  David’s expression suddenly became guarded. “No one important. A very unpleasant fellow who’s causing a little disturbance.” He was pulling a red-and-gold-figured velvet bell and threw Donahue a warning glance as he started to protest. “You must feel as sand-logged as I do. I’m going to have you shown to your quarters so you can bathe and rest a little before dinner. I’ll arrange to have your Jeep taken care of and have a little talk with Karim.” He smiled warmly at the woman who appeared in answer to the bell. In her middle forties, she was very attractive in a serene and dignified way. Her dark hair was pulled back in a smooth chignon and her slightly plump form was garbed in a simple dark cotton gown. “This is Yasmin Dabala. Billie Callahan, Yasmin. She runs the Casbah and all its inhabitants with an iron hand, isn’t that right, Yasmin?”

  “One can only try,” she answered tranquilly. “Sometimes foolish men rebel and disturb the patterns that are best for them.” She frowned sternly. “Mr. Donahue said you went for your ride without a guard again. Very stupid, Lisan.”

  David made a face. “This is where I came in. Suppose you take Billie to her quarters and make her comfortable. That way I’ll only have one of you to contend with.” He gave Billie a little push in the housekeeper’s direction. “Run along, sweetheart, you’ll be safe with Yasmin. She never bites strangers, only her near and dear.”

  “That is true.” Yasmin’s reserved face softened, and her dark eyes lit with affection. “Only my near and dear, Lisan.” She turned and started to glide gracefully down the polished mosaic-tile corridor.
“If you will follow me, Miss Callahan?”

  “Billie,” she said as she hurried after her. She glanced over her shoulder to see David and Donahue still standing at the door watching her. Then she turned the corner and they were out of view.

  “Very attractive.” Clancy Donahue observed.

  “I think so,” David agreed, a little smile tugging at his lips. “But not at all sexy. She told me so.”

  Donahue’s eyes narrowed. “Rather an intimate conversation for such a brief acquaintance. You just ran across her in the desert? Quite a coincidence running into an attractive American woman right outside your gates.”

  “I might have known your suspicious mind would latch on to that fact and start clicking away.” David sighed ruefully. “I’ll save you the trouble of interrogating her. She’s only been in Sedikhan a few months, with the production company that’s filming Desert Venture outside of Marasef. Billie’s an actress.” Again that curiously tender smile curved his lips. “A lousy one, she tells me.”

  “She’s obviously made quite an impression on you,” Donahue said impassively. “She must be very charming.”

  “Charming?” David shook his head. “That’s a little too conventional an adjective for Billie Callahan. She’s part pixie and part wild thing.”

  “Sounds a bit uncomfortable.” Donahue was gazing quizzically at the burnoose that David was shrugging out of. “Where the hell did you get that? You look like the male lead from Desert Song.”

  “Yasmin made it for me. I wear it occasionally so she’ll know her gift has value for me,” he answered as he draped the robe carelessly over his arm. “It came in handy in that sandstorm, though.”

  “Maybe that’s why the bedouins made them de rigueur.”

  “Maybe,” David said absently. “Look, Clancy, I want you to arrange things so Billie isn’t permitted to leave Zalandan.” At Clancy’s startled glance he added quickly, “She’s not to be hurt. Make sure of that. I just want her to stay at the Casbah.”

  “Then, you do think she has some connection with Ladram?” Clancy pounced swiftly.

  “Ladram? Hell, no, you have that man on the brain.” There was amused exasperation on David’s face. “If I have the lady judged correctly, she really hasn’t a connection with anyone on the face of the earth.” He smiled. “But she’s going to, Clancy. She’s going to have an exceptionally intimate connection very soon.” He shrugged. “But like I said, she’s a very skittish, wild thing. I need a little insurance so I have the time to make that connection before she flies away.”

  “You’ll get your insurance,” Clancy said slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I think it would be a very good idea to detain Ms. Callahan for a while.” He watched as David brushed futilely at his jeans, causing sand to cascade to the floor. “Why don’t you go change before bearding Karim in his den? It looks like you brought half of the desert in with you. He’s not going to be any more angry with you in fifteen minutes than he is now.”

  David shook his head. “I’ll go right in to see him.” He smiled gently. “Karim always roars loudest when he’s worried. I’ll just show him I’m all right and let him take the edge off his temper.” He walked rapidly down the hall. “See you at dinner, Clancy.”

  Clancy gazed after him with an expression compounded equally of affection and exasperation. The assignment Alex had given him of protecting David was proving more difficult than if it were Karim himself he had to guard. David’s gentleness covered a will that was even more inflexible than Alex’s or that of the old tiger waiting for David in the study.

  He could almost visualize David lounging in a chair in front of Karim’s desk, listening patiently while the sheikh ranted and raved at him. There would be that same gentle smile on his face when Karim ran out of words and anger. He’d get up, say something soothing and noncommittal, and leave. He’d seen it happen a dozen times with Alex and Sabrina, and then it had only amused him. Now that he was the one being confronted by that iron determination, he wasn’t quite so entertained. It wasn’t bad enough having Ladram somewhere out there just waiting to pounce. Now there was Billie Callahan on the scene, who’d be an unknown element in an already explosive situation. And he could do without unknown elements appearing out of nowhere at this point. When David had finished with Karim, he’d be having a talk with the sheikh himself.

  Billie’s eyes widened with admiration as she was led down a long hall that contained a multitude of arches and tiny alcoves where Eastern carpets in rich, jewellike colors lay on gleaming mosaic tiles. Filigreed Moorish lamps hung here and there on long brass chains, softly lighting the magnificent paintings on the walls of the alcoves. The collection evidently included everything from the old masters to the most brilliant of the contemporary school. There was even a glowing island landscape by Rubinoff, she noted admiringly.

  Yasmin opened the delicately carved cream-colored doors and preceded Billie into the suite. “I think you’ll be comfortable here,” she said. “The bathing chamber and dressing room are through there.” She gestured toward an arched doorway hung with a diaphanous white net curtain. “Naturally, everything you require will be provided.”

  “Naturally.” Billie wrinkled her nose impishly. “Where have you hidden Aladdin’s lamp for me to rub?” She glanced blissfully at the wide ottoman bed hung with amber silken curtains, at the table inlaid with mother of pearl that stood beside the monster of a bed, then looked at the white filigree doors that must lead to her own private patio. “On second thought, I don’t believe I need it. Glory, what a sinfully gorgeous room.”

  There was a trace of amusement in Yasmin’s smile. “I am happy it pleases you, because I’m not certain, but I don’t think we have Aladdin’s lamp on hand.”

  “No matter,” Billie said breezily. “The only thing I need now is a bath and a change of clothes. I won’t even ask for minstrels or acrobats to keep me amused.”

  “I think we can fill your needs.” Yasmin said. A frown suddenly darkened her face. “Though there may be difficulty finding a garment suitable for dinner.” Her gaze went over Billie’s slender figure, which had a fragility belied by the crackling vitality emanating from it. “You’re quite slim, aren’t you?”

  “That’s putting it kindly,” Billie said glumly. “I’ve got less shape than Twiggy did in the 1960s.” She gazed wistfully at Yasmin’s full bodice. “No bazooms. Every woman in the world has great bazooms but me.”

  “Bazooms?” Yasmin’s forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. “I don’t know the word.”

  “Never mind. It’s an American colloquialism,” Billie told her. “You don’t need me to mess up your English. It’s quite beautiful. Where did you learn it?”

  “I have been in Karim Ben Raschid’s household since I was a child of ten,” Yasmin said. “It was required that everyone entering his service learn English immediately and that we all attend school until we had at least the equivalent of your secondary education. Sheikh Ben Raschid would never tolerate ignorance around him.”

  “Ah, an enlightened monarch,” Billie said. “Is it too much to hope he also believes in women’s liberation?”

  Yasmin’s dark eyes danced. “Only on a general, not a personal, level,” she answered demurely. “It is much, considering who he is.” She turned away, moving with her unhurried grace. “If you’ll be so kind as to run your own bath, I will see about finding you a dress that may be suitable.”

  “It will be a terrible strain, but I guess I can manage,” Billie said lightly, already pulling the tunic over her head and receiving another shower of sand in the process.

  Fifteen minutes later she was ensconced in a huge sunken tub tiled in an exotic cream-and-rose mosaic. She rinsed the last of the shampoo from her hair and leaned back against the tub enclosure. She shut her eyes and sighed in contentment. Lord, it felt wonderful to be clean again. It was odd that no matter what trouble one faced, the simple, primitive things in life always made the burden lighter. A bath, a hot meal, a warm fire, a bit of mu
sic.

  Music. She felt a swift surge of pain as she remembered her shattered guitar. God, that had hurt. She hadn’t been that upset about anything for a long, long time. It had been awfully dumb to let it get to her so much. After all, she wasn’t a kid anymore. She’d felt like a child, though, and she’d welcomed David Bradford’s understanding and warmth as if she were a heartbroken baby. His understanding hadn’t completely healed the hurt, but it had helped. Great heavens, how it had helped.

  How strange was the magic he could weave about her. She’d been off balance and on the defensive since the moment she’d encountered him. Why, when he was perhaps the least intimidating man she’d ever met? Why did he make her feel so threatened? Her reaction was as crazy as everything else connected with David Bradford.

  It didn’t really matter. She’d be gone from here in another few days, and in a month he would be only a memory.

  “Mr. Donahue has sent word he will be here to escort you to the library for cocktails in forty-five minutes.” Billie opened her eyes to see Yasmin standing by the sunken tub, a large white bath sheet in her hands and a slight smile on her face. “Lisan has gone to the mechanic’s quarters to see to the disposition of your automobile, but will be pleased to join you later for dinner. He has asked that I attend you personally rather than delegate a maid. Will that be satisfactory?”

  Billie stood up and ascended the three marble steps, feeling a little embarrassed as she was wrapped gently in the sheet. “Look. I don’t need anyone to ‘attend’ me. I wouldn’t know what to do with a maid if I had one. All this Mideastern splendor is making me feel as if I’m being groomed for a harem girl. I’m sure you have something better to do than help me dress.” She grinned mischievously. “I’ve been doing that just fine since I was three.”