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.
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