She put on a pair of sunglasses and got out after he’d helped her. Together they started moving among the locals. A few tourists were about. They walked in front of the shops in the bazaar. With her blond hair and fair complexion, not to mention her enchanting figure, she was a target for every eye.
Enough items were displayed to please the typical tourist. Though she moved slowly and inspected everything, she didn’t buy anything. “If there’s something that catches your eye, I’ll barter a good price for you.”
“Thank you, but I just like to look.” They eventually turned a corner. Halfway down she paused. “Oh good. A bookstore.” After going inside, she asked in English if the owner had a book in Arabic on the Shafeeq dynasty. The old man didn’t understand.
Rashad’s brows met. She wanted a book on his family? That made no sense to him. “Maybe I can help. What kind of book do you mean?”
She turned to him. “Any literature on the Shafeeq family. Something I can take home as a souvenir.”
There wasn’t such a thing in the public domain, but she didn’t know that. He asked the owner in Arabic. The old man shook his head before breaking into a long explanation.
Rashad translated for the owner. “Would you like a cigar box with a likeness of Sheikh Umar or Sheikh Malik on the top?”
A genuine look of excitement broke out on her face. “I’d love both of them! How much does he want for them?”
“I’ll get the price down for you.”
“No—” She put a hand on his arm. “He has to earn a living.”
When Rashad told her the notated price, she signed one of her traveler’s checks that paid him three times the amount. It brought a broad smile to the man’s face. He put the boxes in a sack for her.
“Is this the extent of your shopping spree?” he teased.
She chuckled. “Yes.”
“Then let’s walk back to the Almond Tree for a juice drink.”
“I could use one of those.”
Rashad thanked the owner. He caught hold of her hand once more and they made their way through the village like a married couple. By the time they returned to the palace, the sense of belonging to her was so strong he could taste it, and he tightened his grip.
This would be what it was like if he could have a normal life with her. They could live and love to their hearts’ content, sharing all those little things lovers did with no fear of it coming to an end.
A month.
With the sand in the hourglass steadily emptying into the bottom half, each minute meant he was drawing closer to the time when there’d be no more happiness.
He left her at the door to her suite, telling her he’d get in touch with her later because duty called. She eyed him soulfully with those gorgeous green eyes before closing the door. As it clicked, he fought to repress a curse that this thing had happened to him.
Torment didn’t begin to describe his emotions.
Despite the mystery he hadn’t solved, he still had the medallion in his possession so she would not be able to use it against his family. What he should do was have her flown to El-Joktor today!
Nazir could accompany her and personally escort her onto a jet headed for Geneva. If she ever tried to come back, she would discover all borders to his kingdom were permanently closed to her. Knowing she was barred from Rashad’s sight, he might be able to bear going through with his nuptials.
But what if he couldn’t?
Terrified of that answer, he rushed back to his suite, needing to act. He looked around the apartment as if he might find a magic solution to his turmoil. There was none. What kind of a son was he? What kind of a king would he make if a soft traitorous woman with bewitching green eyes and golden hair could reduce him to this state?
At war with himself, he fought the battle for a few more minutes before he picked up the receiver of his land line. Forcing himself to speak, he called the airport in El-Joktor and booked a one-way flight to Geneva for one passenger.
Determined as he’d never been in his life, he rang his mechanic and asked that a helicopter and pilot from his father’s fleet be ready for flight within the hour. Finally he phoned Nazir and asked him to report to his suite.
Within minutes his assistant arrived at the door. Rashad invited him inside. Before he backed down from his intentions he said, “I find it necessary for you to assist me with one more matter concerning Mademoiselle Viret. She’ll be leaving Al-Shafeeq within the hour.” At least that’s what he was saying while he still had a shred of princely honor left.
His assistant looked shocked, but said nothing. Rashad could always depend on the other man’s discretion even if he’d witnessed his secret comings and goings from the American’s room.
“I want you to accompany her to El-Joktor and see that she’s put on the flight to Geneva leaving at four this afternoon. The reservation has already been made. I’ll bring her to the eastern gate and meet you there in a half hour.”
“Very good, Your Highness.”
With Nazir gone, Rashad left his quarters for the garden suite. After being out in the heat, he imagined Lauren would be resting with an icy fruit drink. Little did she know she was about to be scuttled away from the palace into a helicopter and flown far away.
Once her jet was in flight, the camel would be out of the tent.
As soon as Lauren had returned to her room, Farah came by for her and asked if she would like to see the new foal her husband had given her?
Lauren grabbed at the invitation. Watching Rafi walk away just now had come close to killing her. She needed company and enjoyed spending time with the princess. After her hope of finding some kind of information on the royal family had had been dashed by the bookshop owner, she could use some cheering up.
During her travels, Lauren had been to great cities and shrines all over the world and had always come away with souvenir books and pamphlets. But as this was her first trip to the Arabian desert, it was possible that under the laws of the Shafeeq dynasty, nothing official was put in print for the public.
She was sorry about that. If she’d been able to purchase such a book, she would have found an expert Arab translator back home to reproduce it in English for her. Naturally there was generic information in encyclopedias and periodicals on some facet of tribal warfare. But she would have treasured a tome on the royal family. After all, she shared a portion of the blood flowing through Farah’s veins. Some of their DNA was the same.
While they were exclaiming over the adorable new filly, Farah was called to the phone. She was only gone a brief time. When she returned she said, “That was Nazir. He says you are to go to your suite right away.”
A frown marred Lauren’s brow. “Why?”
The princess shook her head. “I don’t know, but it sounded important. I’ll walk you back.”
“That won’t be necessary, Farah. I know my way now. Thank you for bringing me here. I’ll talk to you later.”
Maybe he had a private message from Rafi.
Nazir met her outside the door to her suite. “Thank you for coming so quickly, mademoiselle. If I might speak to you?”
“Of course.”
She opened the door and went inside. He followed. “I am here to inform you that the king is aware of your distress after being caught in the sandstorm. Since he doesn’t want you to have to wait any longer for a caravan, he has given