Duel In The Sun

‘No. I’m a textile expert. I came out here at short notice to take the place of someone who had to fly home for family reasons. I couldn’t possibly let them down.’ Even as she said it Catriona wondered if Dr Kane was at this moment on the telephone to England, furiously demanding to know where she was.

‘You would not find the house where you live at the excavation site pleasant,’ Rafiq told her. Adding imperiously, ‘It is much better here, so you will stay.’

Even if Catriona had wanted the job, she would have objected to the way he issued such peremptory orders. Her mouth had dropped open at his insolence, but now it hardened. ‘I’ve already said no. I’m sorry about the mix-up, but it was your driver who made the mistake, and I must ask you to take me to the excavation site straight away.’

He frowned angrily, but then shrugged and reached for a telephone on his desk. ‘Where is it?’

‘A place called Mem Habu. I believe it’s to the north-west of Luxor and...’ Her voice trailed off as she saw Omar Rafiq’s head come up in surprise and his eyes widen.

‘Are you talking of the excavation under the leadership of Lucas Kane?’

She nodded. ‘Dr Kane. That’s right. Do you know him?’

‘We have—met.’ He took his hand from the phone and leaned back in his chair. ‘So you are Kane’s new textile expert.’ And he suddenly began to laugh.

Catriona didn’t like the sound of that laughter. It had no humour in it, was more a triumphant peal. ‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded.

Rafiq stopped laughing but there was still a mocking twist to his lips as he said, ‘Just that you should be on your way there, of all places.’

She frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘It is no matter.’ Rafiq gave her a contemplative look, his eyes again running over her tall, slim figure, settling on her face. Catriona had seen that assessing look in men’s eyes a thousand times before, and it certainly wasn’t the way Rafiq had looked at her when he’d thought her to be his children’s tutor.

Her chin lifting, she said. ‘I’ll go and pack. Please tell your driver to take me to the site in half an hour.’

Again Rafiq looked amused. ‘You would not be happy there, Miss Fenton. The site house is very primitive. And Dr Kane...’ He spread his hands in a descriptive gesture and there was scarcely concealed dislike in his voice as he said, ‘He is a quick-tempered man. You would not find him sympathetic, especially after going to the wrong place. I assure you, you would be much happier here.’

‘No, thank you,’ Catriona replied firmly. ‘Will you tell your driver to take me or not?’

‘I’m afraid he is busy today.’

It was a lie and they both knew it. Catriona glared at him, but Rafiq merely gave her a mocking, arrogant look in return. Anger filled her, but Catriona merely said, ‘In that case I will take a taxi.’

He gave a sardonic smile. ‘By all means.’

‘Please call one for me.’

‘If you wish to take a taxi, Miss Fenton, you must telephone yourself. Here is the directory.’

He took a thick book from a drawer in his desk and passed it to her. Catriona took it, her eyes on his face, not liking his expression one bit. Glancing down at the phone book, she began to flip through the pages but soon came to an angry stop. The whole book was, of course, in Arabic script, the loops and whirls completely incomprehensible to her western eyes. ‘You know I can’t read this,’ she said shortly. ‘Just what are you trying to do?’

‘To keep you here, of course.’ Standing up, Rafiq came round the desk. His smile losing its mockery, he turned on the charm and said persuasively, ‘My children like you, Miss Fenton. And it would be a great inconvenience to send to England for another teacher for them. This house is, I think you’ll agree, very comfortable, and the pay is good. In fact I will increase the amount, if you will stay, to—’ again he looked at her contemplatively ‘—to twenty thousand pounds.’

Catriona had been short of money for so long that the offer was very tempting, but she had recognised that assessing glance and was pretty sure that the extra money was also a sweetener that might help to persuade her to become something more than just his children’s tutor. But she definitely wasn’t into that. She had the instinctive feeling that he was the kind of man who used women, who had no real respect for her sex and looked on them as there merely for his amusement or service. And besides, his overbearing arrogance, his calm assumption that she should just drop all her plans and do what he wanted, had aroused a stubborn anger in her that no amount of smooth charm could overcome, so she said firmly, ‘I’ve already said no. Please don’t ask me again. I’ve promised to work at the dig and I intend to keep that promise. So please phone for a taxi.’

But Rafiq merely gave a small smile. ‘Why don’t you think about it? Look round the house. There is a swimming-pool outside. The children will show you. And we will talk again over dinner.’

Becoming angry, Catriona said, ‘Mr Rafiq, will you please listen to me? I have to get to Mem Habu as soon as possible. Dr Kane will be worried about me. He will have phoned to England to see where I am.’

To her surprise he looked amused again, and she could only guess that there was some sort of enmity between the two men. ‘I am sure Dr Kane can wait.’

She went to argue again but he had pressed a bell on his desk and the children came back into the room. He spoke to them in Arabic and they laughed and caught Catriona’s hands, eagerly pulling her out with them. For a moment she tried to resist, turning to look at their father, but Rafiq came up behind them and closed the door, shutting her out with the children so the door received the fuming look that had been meant for him.

Allowing the children to lead her round the house, Catriona was shown the swimming-pool, the indoor tennis court and gymnasium, was taken round the courtyard garden, and finally up to a big sitting room on the first floor which had a wide veranda. From it there was the most marvellous view of the River Nile, only a couple of hundred yards away. It was her first glimpse of the famous river, and Catriona stood in fascination, watching a small fleet of feluccas, their sails bleached by the sun, sail slowly by.

Mrs Aziz came into the room and spoke to the children. Nadia turned to Catriona. ‘We go...’ She mimed washing her face and hands.

‘To wash,’ Catriona supplied.

The little girls repeated it after her and ran out of the room. Mrs Aziz went to follow but Catriona caught her arm. ‘Please. You speak English?’

The woman shrugged. ‘Little.’

There was a phone on a table by the wall. Gesturing to it, Catriona said, ‘You telephone for me. Ask for a taxi.’

But the housekeeper shook her head vigorously. ‘No. Pasha Omar, he say no taxi.’

‘Please,’ Catriona pleaded. ‘I shouldn’t be here. I must go.’

But the woman was obviously intimidated by her employer; she refused to be persuaded and pulled away, then hurried from the room.

Catriona bit her lip in vexation; this was starting to get out of hand. And she couldn’t understand why. She was sure that Rafiq had accepted her refusal and had been about to let her go, but then she’d mentioned Dr Kane and everything had changed. For a few minutes she felt helpless, a stranger lost in a strange land, but then her natural confidence returned to her; this was almost the twenty-first century, and there was no way anyone could keep her here against her will. Crossing to the phone, she picked up the receiver, then realised she didn’t know what number to dial to get the operator, but she tried various combinations and at last got a ringing tone. A voice came on the line and Catriona said quickly, ‘Please, do you speak English?’

The operator didn’t, but eventually found someone who did. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Can you give me the number of a taxi company? I need a taxi.’

‘Where are you?’

‘Near Luxor.’

‘Dial this number.’ The operator read out a list of digits which Catriona hastily wrote down.

Again she had to wait while someone who spoke English was found, then she asked for a taxi to take her to Mem Habu. ‘Where do you wish to be picked up?’

‘At the house of Omar Rafiq. It’s called the Garden of the Nile.’

‘What district?’

‘I don’t know the district. Can’t you look the address up in the phone book?’

‘How can we come if we do not know the address?’

‘Please try,’ Catriona begged. ‘It is most important. An emergency. I must have a taxi.’

‘We will try,’ the voice conceded, then the line went dead.

Catriona put the phone down with a sigh of relief. At last she was getting somewhere. She had no idea how long it would take the taxi to get here, but she went immediately to her room and repacked all her things, but was afraid to take them downstairs in case Rafiq saw them and guessed what she was doing.

At one, Nadia came to take her to lunch and she thought it best to go, to allay any suspicions Rafiq might have. But he wasn’t there; only Mrs Aziz and the children were waiting in a small dining room. Throughout the meal, while she was trying to talk to the children, Catriona listened for the sound of the doorbell, ready to rush out and grab the taxi, make him wait while she collected her things. But the bell didn’t ring. She tried to find out the exact address of the house, but Mrs Aziz had evidently been ordered not to tell her, and stopped Nadia from doing so.

The meal ended and the children went to their rooms for a siesta. Catriona went down to the entrance hall and sat down in one of the Italian chairs to wait for the taxi, no longer caring whether Rafiq saw her or not.

She waited all afternoon but still it didn’t come.

Around four-thirty Omar Rafiq came into the hall and stood in front of her. He looked amused. ‘There is no point in waiting any longer, Miss Fenton. I rang the taxi company immediately after you had made the call and told them that you had made a mistake.’

‘You mean you listened to my call?’

He smiled unpleasantly. ‘Of course. I told them that you were ill—with sunstroke, and that they were to ignore you if you made any more calls.’

Catriona had expected as much for the last two hours. She got to her feet, her eyes bitter. ‘Are you aware of the penalty for kidnapping—because that’s what this is?’

Rafiq laughed contemptuously. ‘Nonsense, Miss Fenton. I am only trying to persuade you to accept the post I am offering you.’

‘Not persuade—coerce,’ she corrected him.

He gave a small smile. ‘You have proved my point; your command of English is excellent.’

‘So is yours. Why don’t you teach your children yourself?’

‘Unfortunately I do not have the time. My business is in Cairo. I come here for only a few days at a time.’

Deciding to have one more go at persuasion, Catriona said, ‘Look, Mr Rafiq, I’m sorry your English tutor didn’t turn up, but maybe I’ll be able to help you; I have several friends in England who might be interested in this job. If you like I could phone them and—’

‘But I want you to teach them, so there is no point,’ he interrupted impatiently. Then, using moral blackmail, he said, ‘Don’t you like my daughters?’

‘Yes, of course, but—’

‘Don’t you like this house? Is your room not comfortable?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Aren’t the wages I am offering you more than those you would earn at the excavation?’

Fearing another interruption, Catriona said firmly, ‘Money isn’t of the first concern. The job at the site would be a great help in my career; teaching your children wouldn’t.’

‘Your career? Of what importance will that be when you marry?’

‘I’m not about to get married.’

‘You will in time. All girls get married,’ he said sweepingly. Catriona gave a gasp of astonishment; the man was still in the Dark Ages! ‘So, Miss Fenton,’ he repeated, ‘I insist that you stay.’

‘No!’

‘But you have no choice, do you?’

‘This is—this is white slavery!’ Catriona exclaimed furiously.

That made him laugh, which made her feel slightly ridiculous, but then even more angry at her own helplessness. Suddenly Rafiq seemed to become bored by the whole thing. ‘Why do you not play with the children?’ he said impatiently, but it was in the tone of an order, not a suggestion.

Having nothing else to do, Catriona went to find the girls. OK, she thought, I’ll wait till it’s dark and everyone’s asleep, then I’ll sneak out and walk to the nearest town and get a taxi from there. She took the children to the pool and, in order to safeguard them while they played in the water, had to put on a swimsuit and go in herself. It was OK until Rafiq arrived, but she didn’t much like the idea of having on only a swimsuit with him around. When he took off his robe, obviously intending to join them in the water, Catriona quickly got out and wrapped a large towel round her waist, sarong-style.

Rafiq dived in and swam a few lengths in a strong crawl, then came to play with the girls. That he adored his daughters was plain enough; he was great with them, pretending to chase them until they shrieked, but very gentle when he caught them. Catriona couldn’t help but smile, but she caught him looking at her and remembered that the games he played with little girls could be quite different to those he played with big girls. She wondered what had happened to the children’s mother, but maybe she was still in Cairo, awaiting her husband’s return.

Mrs Aziz came to take the children away and Catriona went to go with them, but Rafiq, standing at the pool’s edge, water trickling down his body, caught her arm and said, ‘You will dine with me tonight.’ And it wasn’t an invitation.

She looked at him, wary, and becoming very apprehensive. No way was she going to spend another night in this house. Catriona decided to try to sneak out before dinner. But it would be better not to let him suspect, so she merely said, ‘OK. Where’s the dining room?’

‘I will show you.’ He put on a robe, led her into the main entrance hall, and pointed to a door opening off it. ‘At eight-thirty,’ he told her.

Catriona nodded and walked up the stairs to go to her room. Rafiq stood in the hall watching her go, his thick white robe hanging open.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside and then the front door was pushed open, so violently that it went crashing back on its hinges. A man strode into the hall. A fair-haired European. Tall, broad-shouldered and with arrogant self-assurance. Seeing Rafiq, he came to a stop and put his fists on his hips. A sardonic smile came to the man’s lips and he said, ‘Hello, Omar. I hear you’ve kidnapped my new textile expert!’

CHAPTER TWO

CATRIONA stood on the stairs, frozen with astonishment. Then a great feeling of relief filled her and she went to run down to the hall, but then stopped; Rafiq hadn’t been so taken aback and had moved forward to face the intruder.

‘Good evening, Dr Kane,’ Rafiq said smoothly, apparently in no way put out. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’

So this was Lucas Kane. Catriona stood still, hidden from Kane’s sight by a bend in the stairs, but able to watch the two men as they confronted each other. Rafiq had an inborn hauteur that had probably grown through a hundred generations, but Kane had the self-confidence of a man who had carved out his own success in life. Physically Kane was much the taller of the two, a couple of inches over six feet, Catriona guessed, and where Rafiq was dark-haired and -skinned, he was fair, although he had a deep-golden tan that could only have come from long hours spent in the sun. Both men could have been called good-looking, but in entirely different ways; Rafiq’s features were soft and would one day be full, but Kane’s face would never be anything but lean, almost hawk-like. The Egyptian’s eyes were dark and long-lashed, those of Kane an intense slate grey.

‘A surprise, Omar?’ Kane answered, his eyebrows rising. ‘But surely you knew I wouldn’t let you get away with it?’

To Catriona’s surprise, Rafiq laughed. ‘It was purely a mistake, my dear Dr Kane. And entirely your own fault. You really should make sure that you’re on time, you know. The lady waited so long for you that when my car arrived to collect someone else she thought it was for her and was brought here. Naturally she was made most welcome.’

‘And why didn’t you phone to tell me of the—er—mistake?’

‘I didn’t find it out myself until I met the lady—this morning.’ His deliberate pause emphasised that it was now evening.

‘And since then?’ Kane queried.

Rafiq gave a small smile, knowing that Catriona was listening. ‘Why, the lady has been having a very pleasant time, enjoying my house, my hospitality. In fact I’ve been trying to persuade her to stay here—’ again he paused as Dr Kane’s head came sharply up ‘—as an English teacher for my children, of course.’

‘And has the lady yielded to your persuasion?’ Kane asked sardonically.

‘Oh, come now, Dr Kane, you do not really expect me to tell you that, do you?’ Catriona made an angry movement and Rafiq turned quickly in her direction. ‘But why don’t you ask her for yourself? Please, Catriona, come down.’ And he added, ‘There is no need to be afraid of Dr Kane; he will not harm you—in my house.’ This last on a definitely mocking note.

Slowly Catriona came further down the stairs until Kane could see her. Her hair had got wet while she was swimming and she had undone the plait, shaking her hair loose so it could dry. The dampness had made it curl so that it framed her face and hung in twisting, golden tendrils that caressed her bare shoulders. Kane’s eyes widened and he stared at her face in arrested surprise, but then he glanced down and saw how little she was wearing and his expression changed. His eyes swept over her and then, noticing Rafiq’s partly open robe, hardened and became contemptuous. Catriona pulled the towel tighter around her, feeling strangely indecent under his scornful gaze.

‘Well?’ Kane said harshly. ‘Has he persuaded you to stay?’

Her chin came up. ‘No. Of course not.’

Kane’s left eyebrow rose in surprise at her forcefulness and his gaze lingered for a moment on her face, on the tilt of her chin. Turning to Rafiq, he said jeeringly, ‘It seems as if you’re losing your touch, Omar.’

Rafiq shrugged eloquently. ‘Catriona has been here only one day; perhaps when she has seen your house she will change her mind.’

‘Not if she has any sense.’

‘But she is so fragile, so delicate.’ Rafiq used his hands eloquently and this time both men’s eyes turned to look her over. ‘I’m afraid she will find life in your primitive house far too hard, and then she will—’

Tired of being talked about as if she wasn’t there, Catriona cut in, ‘I’ve already said that I don’t want to stay here. I want to go to the dig.’

‘So instead of just standing there, why don’t you go and put some clothes on?’ Kane demanded scathingly.

Catriona shot him an angry look, beginning to realise why he had such a tyrannical reputation. ‘My cases are already packed; I’ll be down in just a few minutes,’ she said shortly, and turned to run back up the stairs to her room. Hastily she towelled herself dry and dressed, found a bag for her wet swimsuit and shoved it in her case. She couldn’t manage all her luggage alone; going through on to the galleried landing, she looked over. The two men were standing close together and seemed to be in the middle of a heated but low-voiced argument. Catriona called, ‘Would one of you help me with my cases, please?’ and they moved apart.

Rafiq gestured to one of his servants who was waiting near the open door and the man came to help her. When she followed him down she found that Dr Kane had gone outside to wait. Rafiq, too, was waiting. Taking her hand, he didn’t shake it, but bowed over it. ‘You have graced my house, Catriona. And I am sure that you will again.’

‘I doubt it,’ she returned shortly.

He smiled. ‘Wait until you have seen the house at the excavation site. My offer is still open and you will soon be back, Catriona.’

Realising that he couldn’t be argued with, she merely said, ‘I didn’t say you could call me that.’

‘But I am going to. And I want you to call me Omar.’

‘As I won’t be seeing you again, there won’t be any need, will there? Goodbye.’

She turned to leave and saw that Dr Kane had stepped back into the doorway and had heard. He laughed, but waited until Catriona had got into the passenger seat of the waiting Land Rover and he had climbed in beside her before he leaned out of the window and called jeeringly, ‘It seems the lady wasn’t tempted, Omar. You’ll just have to make your bribes bigger in future!’ Laughing again, he gunned the car down the driveway and through the heavy wooden gates of the Garden of the Nile.

The Land Rover bumped along the worn-surfaced road, making Catriona grab for the dashboard to brace herself. The car was old and noisy, and the seat had long ago lost its stuffing. It was so exactly what she had originally expected that she laughed aloud.

Dr Kane glanced across at her. ‘What’s so funny?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing.’

He thumped an angry fist on the steering-wheel. ‘Why the hell do women always say that when you ask them a question?’ he demanded. ‘Is it because you think I won’t understand the subtleties of the female mind—or is it just that your mind is a complete blank? “It’s nothing”,’ he mimicked, falsetto. ‘When I ask you a question, woman, you damn well answer it! Is that understood?’

His manner would have intimidated most women, but not Catriona. She was still overpoweringly grateful that he had rescued her from Omar. And had done it in such a satisfyingly high-handed way, too; leaving Omar discomfited on his own doorstep. She was still on a high from that, full of a crazy kind of excitement that shone in her eyes. But she managed to say calmly enough, ‘I was laughing at the age and discomfort of this car; it was exactly what I originally expected to be met by.’

‘So why on earth were you stupid enough to go off in Omar’s limo?’ Dr Kane asked scornfully.

‘Why didn’t you send someone to collect me?’ she countered, determined not to grovel.

‘I did. You’d gone.’

‘I waited for ages,’ she said accusingly.

Her words were almost drowned under the noise of the hooter as a truck, loaded with live camels, of all things, got in the way. She thought he hadn’t heard, but when they’d passed the truck, he said, as if it was her fault, ‘You were early. The planes are late so regularly that no one bothers to get there until half an hour after one’s due in.’

‘I suppose nobody bothered to phone and check?’

A warning glint came into Kane’s eyes. ‘Don’t push it; I had a devil of a job tracking you down.’

‘How did you find me?’

‘By making enquiries at the airport. But I had to wait till the night shift came back on before I heard you’d gone in Omar’s car. Of all the damn stupid things to do!’

Stiffly, Catriona said, ‘I’m sorry if I caused any inconvenience, Dr Kane, but it was—’

‘Lucas,’ he interrupted. ‘My name’s Lucas Kane. There’s no formality at the dig. And, yes, you were a damn nuisance. An official at the airport confirmed that you’d arrived but I had to bribe a taxi-driver before I found out where you’d gone.’

‘Bribe him?’ Catriona was shocked. ‘I hope you didn’t have to pay him too much?’

‘Enough—and I’m taking it out of your wages.’

She should have expected that. Catriona grinned inwardly, and sat back in her seat. The Land Rover had slowed, caught up in a snarl of traffic on the outskirts of a town. Luxor, she supposed. It was almost dark but the streets were still full of cars, taxis, tourist buses, as well as bicycles, rickety old trucks, horse-drawn buggies, and people who just stepped out into the street to cross whenever they felt like it. Everyone seemed to drive on their horns; it was hot, dusty, noisy and intensely foreign. Magic!