Moments went by before she became aware of his heart pounding, strong and solid against hers. When she’d cried her tears, she eased out of his arms, cognizant of not wanting to leave them. She had to be insane.
“Forgive me for breaking down like that.”
“It’s the shock of your ordeal, mademoiselle.”
“Yes.” Reeling from too many emotions, she sank down on the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”
“As you wish. I’ll have a tray sent to you. You need to eat.”
“I don’t think I could yet.”
“It’s the duty of the living.”
Lauren’s head reared back, making her dizzy. But he’d already reached the doors and then he was gone. Not a minute later, a maid came in to help her to the ornate bathroom. After a shower, she dressed in denims and a pale-blue cotton top she’d brought on the trip. The sandstorm hadn’t ripped the suitcases from the camels, but it had almost taken her life.
What was it Richard had once told her? A man who sets out on an expedition has to know he might never come back. He’d lost men on many of his expeditions, but he’d kept on going. If Richard were still alive he’d say, You knew the risk, Lauren, and took it.
In his own way, the doctor had been telling her the same thing.
Lauren could never be that glib about fate, but when the maid returned with a meal of lamb kabobs and fruit salad, she didn’t refuse it.
Sometime later the doctor entered the room without her being aware of it. He walked over to the table where she was finishing her food. “Feeling better now, mademoiselle?”
His presence startled her. And thrilled her, too, which was ridiculous. She wiped her mouth with the napkin and looked up at him. He was dressed in a linen sport shirt and trousers. Whatever he wore, he took her breath. Without clothes … he would be spectacular.
“I feel stronger, thank you.”
“Stronger is better, but you have a way to go before you’re pronounced fit. Your body has been through a tremendous ordeal, physically and emotionally. You must stay here and give yourself time to heal.”
He’d brought a tray of food in with him and sat down opposite her. She bit her lip. “Tell me something. Where is here exactly?”
“I assumed you knew,” he murmured after biting into a fresh peach. “The Oasis of Al-Shafeeq. That was your first destination after you left El-Joktor, was it not?”
Her only destination.
“Yes,” she whispered, shaken by the knowledge that she’d reached the place once ruled by her grandmother’s lover. “How did you know I’d come from El-Joktor?”
He eyed her through veiled lashes. “It’s my business to know everything that goes on here. In truth, I’m not Dr. Tamam, but I let you think it for a little while until I was certain you were on the road to a full recovery.”
What? But he’d held her hand the whole time. “Then who are you?”
His lips twisted, as if amused by the question. When he did that, he was so attractive, she felt that her heart would fail her. “I’m the head of security here at the palace.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “No wonder this room is so exquisite,” she whispered. “I couldn’t imagine a hotel that could ever look like this.”
“The palace is centuries old,” he explained. “When I was notified of a caravan overrun by a sandstorm, I flew a helicopter to the scene. Mustafa filled me in and I brought you back here where Dr. Tamam could take care of you.”
Head of security for the King?
He not only looked the part, he was the embodiment of her idea of what a king should look like. Bigger than life, the way her grandmother had described King Malik.
She swallowed hard. “So it’s you I have to thank for getting me medical help so fast. I—I’m indebted to you,” she stammered. It was hard to believe she was actually inside the palace instead of looking at it from the outside like any tourist.
He flashed her a white smile that trapped the air in her lungs. “Grateful enough to let me call you Lauren?”
The way he said her name in his deep voice with that beautiful accent made it sound exotic.
“Of course.”
“I saw it printed in your passport, which I have in my possession.” His piercing dark eyes traveled over her, missing nothing. “Lauren is a beautiful name, almost as beautiful as its bearer.”
Heat spread through her body like wildfire. “What do I call you?” she asked rather breathlessly.
Something flickered in the dark recesses of his eyes as he ate his food. “Rafi. It’s easier than the rest of my name which is too long and difficult for a foreigner to pronounce.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “I like the shortened version. It reminds me of the spaniel I once had.”
“Why is that?”
“Her name was Taffy,” she rattled on before realizing he probably thought she was flirting with him. You are flirting with him, Lauren. Her escape from death had turned her into someone she didn’t recognize. She tried to gather her wits, but this was all still like a dream. “Did you ever have a pet growing up?”
“Several, but they may not be the kind you imagine.”
“That sounds intriguing.”
His eyes glimmered in the candlelight before he asked her another question. “Where were you intending to stay after you arrived here?”
She let out a small cry. “That’s right—my reservations—I don’t know the name. The documents from the travel agency in Montreux are in my small suitcase. I’m afraid I’m not thinking too clearly yet.”
“That’s because you’ve been in a sandstorm and have come out of it with your life irrevocably changed.”
Irrevocably. Because of this man, that was the precise word.
“I’ll be happy to explain the circumstances to the concierge if you’ll give me the information. The staff placed your suitcases in your bedroom. Would you like me to get it for you?”
“No, thank you. I’ll do it.” She stood up, but she still felt fragile. “Just a moment, please.”
Lauren felt his eyes on her back as she walked through to the bedroom and knelt down to open her small case. She found the envelope that held all her travel plans on top and shut the lid, then went back to the other room.
With a wordless exchange he took it from her. Their fingers brushed, sending warmth through her nervous system before he opened the flap to peer inside. When he found what he was looking for, he pulled out his phone and made a call. Except for a few words, she understood no Arabic. The conversation went on for several minutes before he hung up.
He eyed her with an enigmatic gaze. “Is there anyone else you need to inform about what’s happened? Anyone to let know where you are?”
“No.” With her grandmother gone, she was quite alone.
“Don’t tell me there’s no man in your life missing you, because I wouldn’t believe you.”
“There’s no one important in my life. Only Paul, a friend, who is probably out on a new, exciting assignment for his French newspaper at the moment.”
“Won’t Paul want to know you are safe from harm?” His voice had fierce undertones. He talked