Her Desert Prince

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Her Desert Prince Page 6

by Rebecca Winters


  Lauren glanced at her watch. It was only four o’clock. Her pulse raced. Had Rafi come early to see her because he couldn’t stay away? She slid off the bed. “Who is it?”

  “The Princess Farah.”

  Princess?

  Lauren put up a hand to muffle her cry, unable to believe her good luck. She’d come all this way to get information about her grandfather. So far she hadn’t dared ask Rafi any questions about the royal family. As head of security he might suspect her motives, but who better than the princess herself? Surely she would enjoy talking of her family and its heritage?

  “Have you shown her into the sitting room?”

  “Yes, mademoiselle.”

  “Then please tell her I’ll be with her in a moment.”

  She slipped on her sneakers and went to the bathroom to refresh her lipstick and brush her hair. Without wasting any time, she hurried into the other room. The princess, several inches taller than Lauren, stood near the desk dressed in cream pants and a stunning blood-red blouse. With a voluptuous figure and all that black hair piled on her head, she was the most striking woman Lauren had ever seen.

  “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Your Highness.”

  “Don’t give it a thought, mademoiselle,” Farah said in beautiful English. “My name’s Farah. Rafi told me your name. May I call you Lauren? It’s such a lovely name.”

  “Please,” Lauren said, warming to her at once. “You have a beautiful name, too.”

  Her wide smile was enchanting. “Shall we sit down at the table? I asked for mint tea to be served in here.”

  “Thank you. This is a real honor for me.” Lauren walked over to the table and sat down opposite her.

  “The family heard about what happened to you during the sandstorm. I can’t tell you how horrified I was when I learned of it.” Tears glinted in her eyes. Even without them, Lauren felt her sincerity and it melted her on the spot. “It must have been awful for you.”

  “It was, but it’s over now and I’m very grateful to be alive.”

  “My husband, Abdul, got caught in one when he was a boy. Sometimes I think maybe it’s good he and I have not been blessed with children. If anything like that were to happen to them or to my husband again…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “You must love your husband very much. Maybe one day you will be blessed with a child, too?”

  “Abdul is the sweetest and kindest man I know, but sadly I have already suffered two miscarriages. The specialists I’ve seen cannot promise me anything and so we only hope…one day.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head. “Let’s not talk about sad things. Instead we’ll rejoice that you are alive. According to the doctor, you were close to death. He would have had to answer to my father if he hadn’t brought you back to life.”

  Despite Rafi insisting it wasn’t her appointed time to die, Dr. Tamam had given her the medical treatment needed. “I’m very grateful to both Dr. Tamam and Rafi for everything they have done for me. If I could pay for the doctor’s time perhaps or Rafi, who flew a helicopter to the accident scene and got me to the clinic in time.”

  “They don’t want your money, Lauren. What’s important is that you’re all right.”

  “But to be the guest of the king…”

  “My father welcomes all visitors if they come in peace.”

  If the king ever found out who Lauren really was, she would disturb his peace in ways she didn’t dare think about. “Are you his only daughter?”

  “No. I have two older sisters and a brother. He’s my twin.”

  Lauren finished the sweet tea. “I would have loved brothers and sisters. Please convey my gratitude to your father and mother. I’ve never seen such a beautiful apartment in my life. The flowers on the patio are a miracle.”

  “My mother loves that garden.”

  “So do I.”

  “If you don’t think it would tire you out, I’ll be happy to show you around the palace grounds tomorrow. They’re one big garden.”

  “I’d love that!” It might be her only chance to hear about Farah’s family and learn something concerning her grandfather before she left the palace.

  “Whatever else you would like to do while you’re here at the Oasis, I’ll arrange it.”

  Lauren’s heart beat sped up. “You’re very kind. Mustafa mentioned something about visiting the Garden of the Moon. Is it a place you think I should see?” Under the circumstances, she hoped the tiny white lie about Mustafa would be forgiven.

  The Princess looked surprised. “I’m afraid it’s not allowed.”

  Oh no. Quick. Think of something, Lauren.

  “Between my inability to understand Arabic and his attempt to speak recognizable English, I obviously misunderstood him. It certainly doesn’t matter.”

  “Perhaps he was talking about one of the specialty shops in the souk. Tourists love them.”

  “I’m sure I shall, too.”

  “I’ll ring you tomorrow before I come for you.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LATER THAT EVENING, Lauren left the bedroom, having dressed in a pair of cream-colored denims and a light-green blouse. As she entered the sitting room she heard Rafi’s knock on the door before he entered wearing a dark silk shirt and dark trousers. He was the epitome of manhood. His name came out in a whisper.

  “Good evening, Lauren. How did your day go?”

  She smiled. “As if you didn’t know. I was paid a visit by the Princess Farah. That was your doing, so don’t deny it.”

  “I wasn’t going to.” He smiled back. “The day can hang heavy while you’re recuperating alone.”

  “It went by fast for me. She’s a lovely person. We had tea and biscuits. Tomorrow she’s going to take me on a tour of the grounds.” All the time she was talking, his eyes roamed over her face and figure, causing a suffocating feeling in her chest.

  “Speaking of tours, I’m off duty now and thought you might like to see the main rooms of the palace. We’ll eat dinner here in your room afterward.”

  Lauren closed her eyes tightly to catch her breath before opening them again. “I’d hoped to take a tour while I was visiting here.”

  He spread his hands in a way she was beginning to recognize as purely him. “Then I’m happy I can grant your wish. Perhaps your travel agency didn’t know, but I’ve had to order the interior of the palace off limits to the public. In these modern times, there’s too much danger to take risks.”

  She blinked. “I didn’t know. If that sandstorm hadn’t happened…”

  Lines suddenly marred his handsome features. “Then we would never have met unless fate had deemed it otherwise. Shall we go?”

  For the next hour Lauren wandered with him through room after room, marveling over the ancient citadel, which was a museum in and of itself. She wouldn’t know where to begin describing the tiles on the floors and walls, the cutwork ceilings, the tapestries and urns, the sweeping staircases, all the trappings of a great empire.

  In one of the great rooms, Rafi pointed out the lineage of the Shafeeq dynasty. Lining the walls were enormous framed oil portraits of the sheikhs. Each had a name plate, but Lauren couldn’t read them. “What are their names?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes. I think Arabic is a beautiful language. The names sound so different to my ear.”

  The comment seemed to please him. He turned to the portrait at the far end. With expert recall he gave her a short, stunning history of each one. In time they came to the second picture from the end.

  “This one is Sheikh Malik Ghazi. The royal family calls him the great one.”

  Lauren’s heart thudded painfully hard. It was almost impossible to believe she was standing in front of the likeness of her grandfather when he was maybe thirty years old. She’d already been given a description of him by her grandmother. The newspaper picture of him hadn’t done him justice. He was everything Celia had said he was, and more.

&
nbsp; Dark and splendid…like Rafi who had that same aura of authority, the fierce warrior look that could inspire followers and terrify their enemies. Lauren was furious with herself that she couldn’t stop obsessing over this enigmatic man.

  From the beginning he’d been careful to let her know he was still enjoying his bachelor status. One of these days soon she would have to leave the Oasis. For her own sake she didn’t dare get in any deeper.

  “Why did they call him that?”

  “His father died young. King Malik had to take over the affairs of the kingdom at nineteen.”

  “That’s too young to have such great responsibility, don’t you think?” It was a miracle he’d had time for her grandmother.

  “It is what it is.”

  Lauren had to smile at another one of those fatalistic comments she’d heard fall from his compelling lips. “I can’t imagine it.”

  “He’s the one who united many neighboring tribes and made our nation a greater kingdom than it was before.”

  Her mouth had gone so dry, she didn’t know if she could enunciate clearly. “Is he still alive?”

  “No. He died suddenly four months ago. Dr Tamam said his heart just stopped beating.”

  Celia had died a mere two months ago.

  The timing of their deaths shook Lauren to the core. “How old was he when he passed away?”

  “Eighty-one.”

  “Then he had a long full life, like Johara.”

  Quiet reigned before he nodded. “An astute observation.”

  “Is that how she’ll die?”

  “Maybe. I could hope she’ll be in flight and free when it happens. Birds weren’t meant to be tamed.”

  “That’s a surprising statement coming from you.”

  He flashed her a glance she couldn’t decipher. “Lately I’m a mass of contradictions.”

  She sensed he didn’t want to talk about it anymore and moved on to the last portrait. “I take it this is the king to whom I’m beholden beyond my ability to repay. King Umar Jalal Shafeeq,” she said aloud. “I’m sorry for the bad pronunciation. His name and image were stamped on my entry visa.”

  “You said it well,” he came back.

  “I know he has a kind heart or I wouldn’t be his guest. Is he a good king, too? You don’t have to answer that if you can’t, or don’t want to.”

  A light flickered in Rafi’s black eyes. “The world could learn from a leader like him.”

  Lauren’s mother had been the king’s half sister… How sad they had never had a chance to meet.

  “Then he must be the best and you’ll always want to work for him.” Lauren took a deep breath. “Thank you for showing me this fabulous palace and giving me this much of your time.” She bit her lip. “It’s clear you’re one of the king’s right hands, but you don’t have to spend any more time with me.”

  He angled his head toward her. “Lauren, do I detect some fear that I’ll beat you at cards tonight?”

  “Yes,” she lied, because being with him any longer meant she might make a fool of herself and do something with this man that she might one day regret.

  “Don’t worry,” he said with a devilish twist of his lips. “If I win, I’ll only take a few more bites out of you.” She could still feel his mouth against her throat and Lauren’s heartbeat increased to a dangerous level.

  When they reached her suite, their dinner had been put on the low round table where they could eat and play cards at the same time. Rafi had thought of everything.

  They sat down and got into the game in earnest, enjoying their food in between shuffles. In the end, she beat him again, this time by a much larger margin. Lauren decided he’d allowed her to win, but she didn’t care. It was enough to be together and Lauren suddenly had the oddest sensation that it could go on forever.

  He put the cards in a stack and shoved it to the center of the table. “Since you’ve won hands-down, what prize do you want from me?” Rafi reached for her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Name it and it’s yours.” Shock waves traveled through her body.

  “Do you think before I leave the Oasis it would be possible for me to visit the place where the sandstorm overtook the caravan?”

  His brows formed a black bar above his eyes, changing the tenor of the evening. She wished now she hadn’t brought it up. “Tell me, Lauren, why would you want to return to the spot that could only hold a devastating memory for you?”

  “The maid has never found my medallion. Dr. Tamam said they made a search of the clinic, but it wasn’t there. I think when Mustafa pulled me off the camel, he must have caused my chain to break and it’s buried somewhere in the sand. I would give anything to recover it.”

  Rashad’s dark head went back while he examined her features. “Don’t you realize that if the medallion is out in the desert, it’s buried beneath a mound of sand?”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” she said in a subdued voice.

  “You look tired,” he said, helping her to her feet. “I’m going to say goodnight and will see you tomorrow.” Instead of another bite from her throat, he kissed her forehead and disappeared so fast, she didn’t have a chance to call him back.

  She should have kept quiet about the medallion. Here he’d done everything humanly possible to make her happy since her accident, and she’d rewarded him by asking for another favor. In making that request, she’d stepped over a line. His swift departure left her under no delusions on that score. She wouldn’t blame him if he thought she was the most selfish female alive.

  Resolute, she sat down at the desk and composed a letter to the king, thanking him for his generous hospitality and the services of the clinic doctor and his chief of security. After that she wrote a note to Rafi.

  When she’d finished, she put them outside the suite door, then walked over to the desk and dialed number one. A male voice came on the line. “This is Nazir. How may I help you, mademoiselle?”

  “Forgive me for bothering you this late, but I’d like to leave the palace in the morning and I need a driver to take me to a hotel. Could you arrange that for me?”

  “Of course. I will send someone to your room after you’ve been served your breakfast.”

  “Thank you very much. One more thing. There are two letters outside my door. Would you make certain they are delivered?”

  “Certainly.”

  She hung up the phone, wishing the travel agency she’d called in Montreux would ring her back. They’d promised to arrange for helicopter transportation for her from Al-Shafeeq to El-Joktor and would phone her with the details.

  Lauren had come here with questions about her grandmother and the romance she had encountered with Malik. But now she had seen firsthand how captivating this desert kingdom was. She might not have answers to all her questions, but she knew one thing for sure. She needed to get away from the man who had captured her own heart; she needed to get away from Rafi.

  Rashad had just gotten off the phone with Farah when Nazir came to his suite with two envelopes and informed him Mademoiselle Viret wished to leave the palace in the morning. That didn’t surprise him.

  He told Nazir he’d take care of it. After he left, Rashad stood in the middle of his sitting room and opened the envelope addressed to his father first. After reading it, he turned to the one meant for him.

  Dear Rafi,

  Princess Farah said neither you or Dr. Tamam wanted payment for your actions during the sandstorm. I’m left with no choice but to simply thank you for saving my life. I’ll never forget you.

  Lauren.

  Her sentiment worked both ways. Rashad had wanted her so much tonight, he’d felt as though he was dying. He’d never known hunger like this before. It went beyond the physical to some other place, sending the same kind of shivers racing across his bronzed skin he’d felt when he’d picked her up in his arms the first time.

  That same chemistry had been instantaneous for her, too. He remembered the second she’d awakened to discover him holding h
er hand at the bedside. She hadn’t spoken for a long time. That was because a white-hot heat more blazing than the desert sun had enveloped them through no volition of their own. The harder they’d fought it, the more intense their desire had grown.

  Though he believed she had an agenda, no human could simulate the chemistry between them. Tonight those heavenly green eyes had seduced him, willing him to make love to her.

  Throughout his life he’d known temptation and had been able to withstand it because he was his father’s son and had a sacred duty to uphold. If he hadn’t been careful all these years, he would be dead by now. His father had trusted no one and neither did he, least of all this beautiful flesh-and-blood creature with flaxen hair and peridot eyes sent to weaken his defenses.

  And he knew she’d been sent.

  Tonight Farah had phoned and given him the proof. At first he’d thought she hadn’t told him anything that could help him. By the tone of Farah’s voice, Rashad thought Lauren had won his sister over completely. Just when he’d decided Farah hadn’t discovered anything that could help him, she’d mentioned the Garden of the Moon.

  That was the clue he’d been waiting for. Every alarm in Rashad’s hard body had gone off. He’d found a link to the medallion and was getting closer to an answer.

  Wasting no time, he’d phoned Mustafa who had sworn an oath he’d never said anything about the Garden of the Moon to Mademoiselle Viret. According to him, the foreigner had been unusually quiet and had appeared deep in thought throughout the entire journey.

  Rashad believed him.

  He finally went to bed, determined that over the next few days he would get a confession out of her, starting by giving her what she wanted first.

  “Good morning, mademoiselle. I’m Nazir.” The fortyish-looking man stood in the doorway wearing traditional Arab robes. He broke into a smile. “We spoke on the phone last night, but haven’t yet met. I’ve been instructed to accompany you to the western gate.”

 

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