Harad had seen the incident where the man had stumbled into Amelia. Just as the paramedics lifted the stretcher, Harad decided to play a hunch. He halted them a moment and brushed back Amelia’s hair. The first thing he saw was the golden scarab hanging from the expensive gold chain. It was a work of art, and very Egyptian. He moved it away and began to examine her skin. The mark on the right side of her neck was big, angry and red.
“Check her for some kind of nervous system drug,” Harad said tersely to the medics. He showed them the spot. “I think she was poisoned.” His gut instinct was to keep the woman away from his people and their secrets.
With the siren wailing, the ambulance pulled away from the airport, and Harad waited for airport security. He would have to make a statement before he left. To do otherwise would draw attention to himself, and right now, he didn’t want any governmental scrutiny of Dukhan Enterprises.
“Omar, I’m going to kick your butt when I finally find you,” Harad vowed, thinking of his younger brother. It was then he noticed the black cat. He had his own black feline, Tut. And there were thousands of black cats in Alexandria. This one was distinctive, though. It looked exactly like the cat that had been involved with his brother and the female anthropologist.
“Familiar?” He walked toward the feline. This was the cat who’d saved his brother’s fiancée, Beth Bradshaw. It was because of Omar and Beth that Harad now found himself in the middle of police scrutiny.
“Meow.” The cat came toward him, black tail straight in the air, tip twitching. “Meow.” Familiar’s golden gaze was unblinking.
“My brother insists you are an extraordinary creature,” Harad said, sighing. “I’m sure your presence here has something to do with Ms. Corbet.”
“Meow.”
Harad bent down to stroke the cat, when he heard his name called.
“Mr. Dukhan, would you come with us?”
Harad followed the two airport security guards through the concourse to the plush office where he would be given hot tea and a cigar, if he wished. To his amusement, he saw that the black cat was following right on his heels. Well, Familiar would be an interesting distraction.
AMELIA OPENED her eyes and then closed them again. Everything in the room seemed to spin around her, and she felt her stomach revolt against the sensation.
“Well, the patient has regained consciousness,” an unfamiliar female voice said with a hint of excitement.
Opening one eye a slit, she finally focused on a redhead who was sitting in a chair beside the bed.
“Who are you?” Amelia asked. She had a vague memory of a very handsome man, dark and somehow foreboding. He’d held her in his arms. She could remember the extraordinary fabric of his suit, the smell of his cologne, the sense of some exotic danger.
“I’m Mauve, Beth’s associate. Beth asked me to meet you in the airport, but as I was going inside, someone stole my purse. I ran after the man, but I lost him in the crowd. So, I was a little late. Looks like you had a welcoming committee of your own.”
The words seemed to ping against Amelia’s forehead, but she managed to grasp their meaning. “There was a man…”
“Harad Dukhan. The police are questioning him now,” Mauve supplied. “He’s a looker, isn’t he?”
“What happened to me?” Amelia wasn’t in the mood to discuss Harad’s appearance. She was annoyed that she even remembered what he looked like. She’d sworn off men.
“Someone injected something into your neck. Didn’t you feel a pinprick or another sharp sensation?” Mauve got up and leaned over Amelia. She brushed a hand over Amelia’s neck. “Right there.”
“Yes!” Amelia’s fingers explored the spot where she’d earlier felt the stinging sensation just as a man had stumbled into her in the airport. It had been deliberate. “What did he inject me with?” she asked.
“Some type of plant poison. The doctor said the name, but plants aren’t my area of expertise. At any rate, the antidote worked. He said you should be feeling better in an hour or so.”
“And this Harad Dukhan. What about him?”
“Soon to be your brother-in-law,” Mauve said breezily. “If you prefer the desert type, which your sister obviously does, Omar’s the poster child for handsomest man of the year. I, personally, like that tailored, well-groomed, reeking-of-money-and-success aura that Harad projects. What about you?”
“There’s not a man breathing who could interest me right now,” Amelia said. She meant every word of it.
Mauve’s eyebrows arched. “That’s tempting fate, girl,” she said brightly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that fate always seems to throw exactly what we don’t want right into the middle of our path.”
“I want to see my sister,” Amelia said, suddenly overcome with worry. “Is she hurt or sick or in some kind of danger?”
Mauve took Amelia’s hand and held it. “Beth was in a lot of trouble. Now your sister is safe and happy. Very happy. She’s going to marry Omar Dukhan.”
“What?” Amelia tried to push herself up in bed, but what felt like a sledgehammer slamming into her skull stopped her. Moaning, she gently let her head rest back on the pillow.
“The doc said there would be some pain and dizziness,” Mauve told her. “He said it would go away in an hour or two. Any motion or bright light will set it off, though. He advised you to stay in bed and remain as still as possible. If you’re anything like Beth, though, I just wasted my breath.”
“I can’t move,” Amelia said between gritted teeth. “This man that Beth is marrying. What about him? Beth hasn’t been over here but a couple of weeks. How can she marry someone she’s only known for fourteen days? What does he do? Where are they? Can you bring me to them?”
She stopped her assault of questions only when she heard Mauve softly laughing at her. “What’s so funny?”
“You and Beth are so different, yet you’re so much alike. First let me say that Beth is doing exactly as she wants. She’s head over heels in love. Omar, though at first he was deceptive, seems to be a man of honor. And he loves your sister very much.”
“That all sounds fine. What does this character do for a living?”
Mauve hesitated. “That’s sort of hard to say. He’s a desert guide, and he has the most incredible Arabian stallion. I think he and his tribe…oh, yeah, he’s some kind of ruler of this tribe of nomads, and—”
“Wait just one minute.” Amelia kept her eyes shut tight as she tried not to move. “He’s a nomad?”
“Right,” Mauve said, and this time there was the first hint of doubt in her voice. “It’s not exactly like it sounds, Amelia. He’s very smart and well educated and—they’re going to be fine now that the bad guys are in jail and the orbus plant, which Omar and Harad’s family once used to predict the future, has been destroyed. Really, Beth was in danger when her co-workers and some financial backers were trying to use to her to get their hands on that plant.”
“Wait a minute!” Amelia ground her teeth. “Beth was looking for a lost city. At least, that’s what she said.”
“She was. The lost City of Con. Con was a female tribal ruler who had the gift of prophecy. It’s an inherited trait in the Dukhan family. But this plant, the orbus, played a vital role in bringing the dreams on. Omar and Harad’s mother, Aleta, saw that the plant would be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands, so she destroyed it. So now Beth is safe and she’ll live happily ever after with Omar. She wanted to hold the wedding until the Corbets could get here, but the full moon of July is the Moon of Con and the wedding had to take place then because of all the ‘mystical stuff’.”