The next morning, Mac felt guilty dropping Maddy off at day care even earlier than usual, so she’d have time for the longer drive to the palace. It was still dark out.
“It’s nighttime, Mommy.” Maddy looked confused and was sucking her thumb, a habit she’d given up months ago.
“It’ll be light in a few minutes.” She smiled and tried to sound cheery. She didn’t know what time they’d let her go today, either. Luckily the day care ran around the clock, because there were workers on every shift. “If you look out the window, you’ll see the sunrise.”
Maddy looked doubtful.
“Bring home a book for us to read together later.”
“’Kay.”
She wanted to tell her to stop sucking her thumb as it would make her teeth crooked but couldn’t bring herself to scold her. “I love you, Maddy.”
She saw Maddy’s toothy grin in the rearview mirror. “I love you too, mom.”
After dropping her daughter off, she sped across the desert to the palace. Probably a good thing she knew where it was already, as it wasn’t exactly signposted. The sun was creeping up behind the mountains to the east, sending shafts of bright light shooting across the desert floor. The large walled compound looked like an ancient fortress—which it probably was—and she drove around pondering which big arched gate to drive in through. Or should she park outside the gates like she had for the crowded wedding celebrations?
She saw a beat-up-looking truck drive in through one of the side gates, so she followed it and parked in a stone courtyard surrounded by high walls. The truck’s occupant disappeared before she could ask any questions, so she found herself all alone, not sure where to go.
One high wall had a tall blue door, and she decided to try the handle. Even though she was told to report to the palace, she still felt like an intruder as she pulled on the heavy wrought iron and heard it creak open.
On the other side was a garden, with lush palm trees under planted with colorful flowers. The scented blooms filled her senses, and she could hear water trickling somewhere, probably from a fountain.
“Hello?” She let the door close behind her and stepped forward. The garden looked vaguely familiar from the wedding ceremony, but now all the wedding and Christmas decorations had been removed, which made it look less festive and more elegant.
She walked forward, winding between the trees, enjoying the cool shade they cast. “Hello? Is there anyone here?” She started to wonder if she should go back to her car and try driving in through another entrance when she saw a flash of blue nearby and realized it was a woman’s skirt. “Hi! Can you help me? I’m looking for Mosir.” She hoped she’d pronounced the name right. He was in charge of the palace facilities.
The women startled and turned. Mac noticed that she had a dog on a leash—no, wait, it was a cat. A big black cat. A HUGE black cat. What the heck kind of cat was that? A panther? She realized the woman was speaking.
“Hello, I’m Aliyah. I can show you to Mosir’s office if you like.”
“Uh…that would be great.” She was relieved the woman spoke some English but she couldn’t take her eyes off the big feline with its silky mottled fur. “And, er, what is that?”
Aliyah smiled warmly. “This is Megu. He’s a black leopard.”
“Wow.” She kept her distance. “He’s…is he tame?”
“As tame as a leopard can ever be.” Aliyah bent to stroke his big head. “Which isn’t very tame, but he tolerates me. He likes to go for walks.” Megu rubbed himself affectionately against Aliyah’s long skirt. “Come with me.” She set off through the trees.
Mac followed. “I’m Mac Malone, by the way. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner, but I’ve never see a black leopard before and it startled me. My Grandpa Moon told me one too many tall tales about man-eating cougars, I guess. He’s beautiful.”
Aliyah walked confidently next to the black beast as she led Mac through a row of elegant date palms and under an arched colonnade. The walls and floor glittered with tiny mosaic stones, shimmering blue and black with gold accents. The whole effect was exotic and rich and luxurious.
She wondered if she should mention that she’d been here for the wedding, just to make conversation, but held her tongue. What if Aliyah had noticed her kissing Amahd? Yes, there were a lot of people milling about, but there weren’t that many buxom redheads in Ubar so it wouldn’t be too hard to put two and two together.
“Mosir’s office is down here.” They stepped into a side hallway, narrower and with lower ceilings, and Aliyah knocked on the third door and spoke in Ubarite. A tall young man in a long robe emerged and greeted Mac. “I’m Mosir, facilities manager here at the palace, pleased to meet you.” He then launched into a description of the things she’d need to check on and maintain, all without giving any hint that he’d have preferred a man for the job or glancing down at her breasts. She liked him already.
“Sounds like I’ll be busy.”
“Yes,” he said earnestly. “And you’ll be in contact with the royal family so let me give you a few pointers about etiquette.”
She swallowed. No kissing the princes. It was hard not to laugh.
“They like to keep things fairly casual and informal, so no bowing and scraping or your royal highness. Keep it simple and use sir or madam unless they invite you to use their given name.”
“That’s easy enough to remember.” Though it would be weird to call Amahd “Sir.” She wondered if he’d specifically requested for her to be brought to the palace for some weird reason. Either to get her out of the way at the oil field—which seemed unlikely—or to place her in a more convenient environment for him to have an affair with her.
From the way he’d stared at her in the car yesterday, she wondered if he was attracted, even if he didn’t want to be. Good-looking men were used to taking what they wanted and tossing it aside when they were done. She’d even made the mistake of letting that happen to her a time or two.
Not any more. She had a child to support and a well-paying job to keep. She was going to fulfill her duties then go pick up Maddy, and nothing inappropriate was going to happen.
Mosir led her out for a quick tour of the palace air-conditioning, lighting and plumbing systems. He also pointed out the various alarms, cameras and other security devices. Again she refrained from mentioning that she’d been here before.
The palace was like a small city, its columned passageways leading to gardens and grand rooms with multicolored hanging lanterns, then to narrower passageways off rooms where the staff performed a million tasks that made everything run smoothly and life at the palace seem effortless and timeless.
She was finally left alone to run a check on all the guest bedrooms for the visiting dignitaries and their staff. She checked the air-conditioning, lights and water in rooms that hadn’t been used since the big wedding and were being vigorously cleaned by a crew of chatty young girls.
Of course she couldn’t understand a word of their chatter. Hopefully it wasn’t about her. They all looked like colorful birds in their bright local costumes, which consisted of a tunic that fell to mid calf, over semi fitted pants, each embroidered and embellished with beads and sequins. She’d dressed in her smartest Cruel Girl jeans and newest yellow western-style shirt, but she felt downright frumpy compared to these girls.
Still, she couldn’t imagine dressing like that. How would you get anyone to take you seriously? Maybe that look worked if you were a princess or aspired to be one, but sequined silks were not appropriate attire for a mechanic.
“And since Darud the Twelfth will be sleeping in this room, we’ve had it fully equipped with a—” she heard the man’s voice approaching, then the door flew open. She was in the middle of changing a blown lightbulb above the mirror in the ensuite bathroom so the person entering didn’t see her. “—State of the art recording device that will pick up all conversation.”
She cleared her throat. Lately she seemed to be learning way too much abou
t Darud the Twelfth and their suspicions about him. And she didn’t even know who he was. With a name like that he had to be important, though.
“Who’s there?” The voice dropped two octaves and footsteps rapidly crossed the floor. A tall, dark, imposing man in black Western attire stared at her.
“Mac Malone, maintenance,” she replied, military style. “Changing a bulb, sir.” She had no idea if he was a prince or not, but better safe than sorry.
He narrowed his eyes and squinted at her. “Ah, yes. My wife, Aliyah, told me you’d arrived. I’m Gibran.” He held out a powerful hand for her to shake. So this was the half brother who’d recently rejoined the family, and who was now head of security and in charge of ending the sabotage. “I do hope we can count on your discretion.”
“Absolutely.” She tried to sound convincing. Not that she had any reason for ulterior motives. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Keep your eyes and ears peeled at all times and let us know if you see or hear anything unexpected.”
“Won’t they be speaking in a foreign language?”
“Their languages are very similar to Ubarite.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know that well either. I just moved here to work at the oil field.”
“Amahd, what are you doing out there? Come meet one of your employees who’s here to help us in our quest.”
Mac froze. Amahd had been standing there the whole time? Maybe he’d heard her name and was avoiding her.
Amahd entered. “Ms. Malone and I have met.” His cool gaze fixed on her. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you were busy conducting an inventory of our supplies.”
Gibran laughed. “She can always count the pipes and rivets after the contest. We have more important things to focus on.”
“Bubba sent me here.” She didn’t want him to think it was her idea. Obviously, it wasn’t his. She cursed herself for thinking he’d planned this so he’d have the opportunity to seduce her. She clearly had far too high an opinion of her charms. “He said they needed an extra set of hands to maintain the equipment during the event.”
“Of course.” He seemed distracted, brow slightly furrowed. Her face heated under his unwavering gaze, though once again he was probably thinking about something else and didn’t even see her. “This summit is our first priority right now.”
“Is it a summit or a contest?” She asked. She couldn’t figure this thing out at all.
Amahd looked surprised. She realized her question probably presumed too much intimacy, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that they’d spent several hours together and that she’d already heard more than she should. “It’s ostensibly a contest, for sport, but our true goal is to gather the local leaders in one room so we can bury any old hatchets and start working together for our mutual benefit.”
“We decided to host a sporting event rather than a summit so there would be less pressure and anxiety.”
“And more galloping horses,” she teased. “I heard there are events involving swords and archery.” Amahd had described them on their desert ride.
“The tent-pegging events are Amahd’s brainchild,” said Gibran, lifting a brow at his half brother. “I suspect he’ll secretly use any excuse to gallop about with a sword.”
Amahd lifted his chin. “Such events are traditional in our region. Our neighbors all value tradition and we are trying to reassure them that we do, too.”
Gibran shrugged. “You don’t have to convince me.”
“Ms. Malone knows a little about galloping horses.” Amahd’s eyes darted toward hers, and energy flashed between them as they met. She felt relief that he’d acknowledged their ride together; it would have been weird if he’d pretended it never happened. But she also felt a little shimmer of anxiety. How much would he tell Gibran about their previous encounters over a goblet of whatever they drank here?
Gibran also looked amused. “Would you mind leaving us while we go over a few things?”
She swallowed and glanced sideways at the other lightbulb she still needed to install. She’d just been dismissed. “No problem. I’ll be back later to finish.”
She avoided glancing at Amahd as she hurried from the room, feeling thoroughly chastened. They didn’t want her overhearing their confidential conversation about how carefully the room was bugged or rigged with cameras. And really, it was none of her business, anyway.
She picked up her lightbulb and tool bag and left the room. She was heading for the next room down the hall, when she saw two of the women she recognized from the wedding—the brides—walking toward her. As soon as they caught sight of her they paused and looked at each other.
Uh-oh.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You must be Mackenzie.” They spoke at once, which was even more disconcerting. Both women were tall, slim and statuesque, and although she knew they were American, they already looked like queens. The dark-skinned girl with short hair laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Mac tried to look less startled. “Everyone calls me Mac.” She thrust out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Ronnie.” Her handshake was cool and firm. She wore all white and looked crisp despite the desert heat.
“And I’m Sam,” said the girl with long, dark hair, who wore a floaty aqua dress. Her handshake was vigorous and enthusiastic. “We met briefly at the wedding when I introduced you to Amahd.” She smiled warmly.
Mac’s heart turned to ice. Had she witnessed anything going on between them? It was a bit horrifying that she even remembered her, considering how many people had been at the wedding.
“Welcome to Ubar. We hear you’ve just moved here,” said Ronnie.
“Yes, it’s my first week on the job. I wasn’t expecting to be whisked up here to the palace.” She hoped that didn’t sound whiny. “How did you know who I am?” Curiosity was killing her.
Ronnie looked at Sam “Uh…” Sam hesitated. “It’s not every day a female mechanic moves to Ubar. In fact, you’re probably the first ever.”
“Oh.” So people at the palace had been sitting around talking about her? That was kind of horrifying. And yet Amahd had been surprised to see her, so she wasn’t here by his request. This was all very strange. “There aren’t too many of us in the U.S., either.”
“We’re glad to have you here. Have you met the rest of the family?”
“I’m met Amahd, of course.” She froze. Should she have referred to him as Mr. Al Kilanjar? She decided to blunder on. “And Zadir.” Zadir was Ronnie’s husband. “And Aliyah and Gibran.” She congratulated herself on remembering all their names. She knew there was one brother—Sam’s husband—that she hadn’t met. But seriously, why were they at all interested in her? She was here to deal with air conditioner breakdowns and plumbing snafus.
“You’ll meet Osman soon,” said Sam, as if reassuring her. “The guests start arriving tomorrow morning so you don’t have too long to get acquainted with everything. We’d better let you get back to work.”
Mac almost collapsed with relief as they said goodbye and walked off purposefully. How were they even aware of her existence? It didn’t make sense.
Unless they knew something.
And if they did, why would they want her here? She was hardly the kind of woman they’d want to hook Amahd up with. Look at them! Both glamorous, elegant, obviously educated. She was the exact opposite by most people’s estimation.
She shook her head, unable to figure it out. It didn’t really matter because the next few days would be very busy with the arriving dignitaries and she’d probably have her hands full. All she needed to do was keep her head down and do a good job and in a few days she’d be safely back in the storage room doing inventory, hopefully with a nice large bonus in her account. She could put that toward a new car for her and Maddy once they got back home and no longer enjoyed a free company vehicle.
She smiled, resolving to stay focused on her reasons for being here,
all of which looked like dollar signs. There was no reason to get distracted or derailed by anything else.
Amahd paced the garden, waiting for the first guests to arrive. He couldn’t believe Mackenzie Malone had ended up working at the palace during the contest. It was bad enough having her out at the oil field, but here it was hard to avoid her. Her bright hair made her stand out among the women at the palace, and her curvy figure and very un-Ubarite cowgirl attire only made her more eye catching.
And he didn’t want his eyes having anything to do with her.
Sam and Ronnie were probably behind this. For some reason they were now obsessed with matchmaking for him. Couldn’t they just enjoy their own marriages and leave him alone? Not everyone wanted companionship. Some people preferred solitude.
Besides, as a future king it was utterly inappropriate for him to have an affair with anyone, let alone an employee. He had no interest in any woman who wasn’t potentially his future bride and queen. And a sassy, redheaded mechanic from Texas was not a suitable candidate in any way.
Zadir strode up to him and murmured, “Darud the Twelfth is here.”
“He’s the first to arrive?” Adrenaline pricked his muscles.
“Yup. With his entourage.” They headed for the courtyard at the main gate. A procession of black Mercedes sedans, all thinly coated with desert dust, was streaming through the big archway. The purple-and-white license plates revealed that the cars were from neighboring Tabriq.
Staffers opened the doors and the elegantly dressed royals emerged, Darud himself, a heavy set man of about sixty, dressed in a long, pale gray robe, his head ornamented with a crimson brocade turban. His wife was a tiny woman swathed in green. A phalanx of attendants and servants emerged, all identically dressed in white robes, carrying bags and boxes.
Desert Kings Boxed Set: The Complete Series Books 1-6 Page 67
