Familiar Oasis

Chapter Three

How is it possible that someone who looks as if she was dropped straight from heaven can spoil one of the finest meals I’ve eaten in months? That delicious sea bass, which Harad ordered with only a tiny hint of prodding on my part, is rumbling around in my stomach now because Madame Taurus has given me indigestion. I’m going to call her Madame Taurus because she must have been born under the sign of the bull.

Amelia Corbet, for all of her blond hair and blue eyes, can curdle cream. That woman is so stubborn, if she drowned they’d have to search for her upstream. And I can see the look in her eyes. She’s going to insist on going into the desert. She’s going to hire a guide and take off across the sand like it’s some kind of picnic.

The more Harad argues with her, the more determined she’s going to become. He finally caught on to that—he just zipped his lip and walked away. Washed his hands of the whole situation, I dare say.

So that leaves me to look out for Madame Taurus. Boy, I’ve worked with some strong women in my time, but I don’t think a single one of them could hold a candle to Amelia Corbet. Darth Vader would consider backing up from her.

All of this might be amusing, except I see a terrible picture in my future. It involves a horse, sand, sun, thirst and a lot of other unpleasant things. Most of the time, I feel my black suit is the purrfect attire for any occasion. There is one place, though, for which I am not properly dressed, and that is the dang-blasted desert.

I have no choice but to go. Eleanor and Peter are going to be fried at me. They’ve warned me that they won’t wait for me. I know that isn’t true, but I’m also a realist. How long can they wait? Harad said a two-week excursion. Something tells me I’d better get my name and address sewn into my underfur. I’m going to be on my own.

Thanks to all this tension, my tummy feels like World War II is being replayed inside. I need an Alka-Seltzer. Oh, this is not my idea of fun, and I’m not even getting paid for all this worry.

Time to get moving. Amelia is headed up to her room, and I’d better keep an eye on her. She’s trouble on two very lovely legs. This is going to be a long, long night.

THE EVENING had turned slightly cool, and Harad was thankful for the sea breeze against his heated face. He’d been so angry at Amelia that he had walked away before he said something he would regret. There were plenty of things he’d wanted to say—things about her stupidity and arrogance and stubbornness. But those were things best left unvoiced. For all her tough business experience, Amelia was a pampered American. It would take only a day or two in the desert to make her change her mind.

At the thought of her tired and sore from the rolling git of a camel, he found a glimmer of satisfaction. A bit of hardship might soften her tough attitude. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see that Amelia Corbet was a woman used to the finer things in life.

She’d been so perfectly turned out at dinner. The coral of the dress was matched by her lipstick and nail polish. The hint of eye shadow had brightened the crystal blue of her eyes. That moment, when she’d leaned forward, caught up in his story, he’d caught a glimpse of cleavage, and the ivory sheen of her skin had made him want to press his lips there. He could still smell the delicate perfume she wore, warmed by her body heat. Even the memory of it was powerful enough to make him close his eyes for a moment.

At the thought of kissing her, his blood grew more heated, and he forced himself to walk. The last thing he needed was to stand around on a street corner and fantasize about a spoiled American woman who was girding her loins to make his next two weeks a living misery.

He thought briefly of finding a local guide to take her, but there was no one he trusted. There were many good guides, but none who would have the fortitude to lead Amelia to the conclusion she needed to draw—Paris was where she ought to be. He found himself caught on the horns of a dilemma. Though Beth would surely want to see her sister, especially when she and Omar celebrated their wedding, Harad wasn’t certain that Amelia could be trusted with the secret location of the lost City of Con. It would be best for all if Amelia came to visit when Beth and Omar returned to Alexandria.

Omar had decided to risk that knowledge with Beth, but Harad was not willing to do the same with Amelia. He’d put his heritage and his people in second place once before, when he’d refused the role of leader. He would not do it a second time.

The immediate problem was the desert trip. He would have to trick Amelia into accepting him as a guide. She trusted him less than he trusted her—and he smiled at that thought.

How to convince her? Amelia was far too smart to simply sign on to the idea that he’d changed his mind and decided to follow her orders. Circumstances would have to be such that when he appeared at her campsite, it would be as her rescuer. At the thought of her, blue eyes filled with gratitude, he increased the pace of his walking. That would be a first for Amelia Corbet. He’d be willing to wager a large sum that she’d never been grateful to a man for a single thing in her life.

It was time to change that.

There was little time for bemoaning what had to be done, so he used his cell phone to call his car and driver and began to make preparations for the trip.

In the center of town was a man who provided camels and equipment for excursions into the desert. Harad had done business with him before and knew the animals he leased were healthy and well cared for. Though it was not regular business hours, Harad had his driver go there. He would also need tents and supplies—and he would keep the receipts. Somewhere along the way, Amelia Corbet had to learn that her hardheadedness was a costly vice.

CHEEKS STILL red with righteous indignation, Amelia closed the door of her suite none too gently. She saw the swinging door barely miss the black cat’s tail as he darted into her room. The creature had followed her from the restaurant and had plopped himself in the middle of her bed, as if it was his right.

“I’m not a pushover like the Egyptians,” she warned him.

The black cat stared her right in the eyes and used his back legs to push her suitcase onto the floor. The leather case hit the floor with an impressive smack.

“Hey!” She started walking toward him with the intention of picking him up and putting him out of the room. His tail flicked once as he reclined, watching her. When she reached out to pick him up, she heard a low, deadly growl. The sound halted her in her tracks. She’d never heard anything more adamant.

Amelia turned abruptly and reached for the telephone. Just as she started to dial the front desk for assistance with cat removal, Familiar sprang to his feet and caught the rotary dial with his sharp claws. He gave a low growl of warning.

Very slowly Amelia lowered the phone back into its cradle. She stared into the cat’s golden gaze. “I don’t know what you want, but you can’t sleep on the bed.”

The cat walked back across the bed, turned in a circle once and then settled into a ball. In what seemed like seconds, he was sound asleep and purring.

Amelia sat on the edge of the bed and examined the feline. She’d never met an animal with such presence. J.J. was a sweet and lovable mutt, but he bent over backward to please her. This cat was another matter. She had the distinct impression that he had it fully in mind to bend her to his will.

“We’ll see about that,” she whispered softly. The cat’s whiskers twitched and he opened his eyes. His golden-green gaze was calm, and then he yawned.

Amelia wanted to tell the cat that he could go straight to Hades, but she couldn’t bring herself to continue to talk to the animal. Even Harad, a man with a multimillion-dollar business, spoke to Familiar as if he thought the cat actually understood. It was ridiculous. The cat might be intuitive and somehow skilled in showing up at the right place at the right time, but it was completely foolish to believe the feline understood language.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out Dr. Kaffar Mosheen’s business card. She tapped it against the bedside table.

“I wonder if there’s another phone around here,” she mused out loud, casting sidelong glances at the sleeping cat to see how he reacted. When Familiar made no move to thwart her efforts, she dialed the doctor. “Stupid cat. He doesn’t understand a thing,” she muttered under her breath as she waited for the doctor to answer.

Amelia identified herself and heard the gratifying intake of breath on the other end of the line. “I have an hour or so this evening if you’d still like to talk to me about the poisoning,” she said. “I’m staying at the Abbula.”

“Lovely old hotel,” he said. “I’ll be there in half an hour. We could meet—”

“In the bar,” Amelia supplied. “I’ll be waiting for you.” She made it a practice never to let a man make all the decisions. It was good training for them, and for her.

She stood up, smoothed her dress over her hips, checked her reflection in the mirror and started out the door. She turned back to see if the cat was still asleep on the bed.

To her total surprise, the bed was empty. She stared at it a moment. Familiar had vanished. Shaking her head, she walked out of the room and found the cat already waiting for her in the hall. Like some kind of magician, he’d slipped through the door just as she opened it. He led the way to the elevators. As soon as they were in the lobby, he ran into the bar. When she walked in, she found him sitting on a bar stool with a large saucer of cold milk in front of him. In the four seconds he’d been ahead of her, Familiar had somehow managed to charm the burly bartender.

Disgusted, Amelia sat as far from the cat as she could. It was impossible, but it did seem as if he’d understood her conversation on the phone. Either that or he had a serious drinking problem.

All thoughts of Familiar left her head, though, when Kaffar Mosheen walked into the bar. He’d forsaken his white coat, and he wore khakis and a cotton pullover. The pale yellow of the shirt gave his complexion a warm glow. As he took a bar stool beside her, he waved the bartender over.

“Two vodka martinis,” he said, “alcohol should be okay if your headache’s gone.”

“Make that one vodka martini and one iced tea,” Amelia said. She turned to Kaffar. “My headache is gone, but I’d rather have tea. You look very different without your lab coat.”

“I hope I’m very different,” he said, smiling. “Earlier today, you were a patient. Now you are a lovely woman that I hope to impress. Still, I must ask how you feel?”

Amelia laughed. One thing she could say about Alexandria—she’d never met more charming men. She thought of Harad and felt her throat go dry. Even as her body tingled at the thought of him, she smiled at the doctor.

“I’m good as new.

“Tell me about your work,” she said, sipping the drink the bartender had put in front of her.

The doctor began to talk of his research on plants used in herbal remedies to stop smoking. Amelia listened intently, but she was aware of the black cat walking along the top of the bar in her general direction.

When he was in front of Dr. Mosheen, he lifted a big paw and held it aloft for a few seconds. With one swipe, he sent the martini tumbling off the bar and into the doctor’s lap.

Kaffar Mosheen calmly stood. Using a napkin from the bar, he blotted the liquid from his slacks. “My countrymen have a great reverence for the cat,” he said, his voice calm and easy. His eyes held anger. “But I personally hate them. They carry disease. They are a plague upon the city.” He tossed the damp napkin at the black cat’s head. “I would have every single one of them deported or destroyed.”

Amelia placed her drink on the bar. “Don’t you think that’s just a bit of an overreaction? I’m not all that fond of cats, but they aren’t that bad.”

Dr. Mosheen accepted the new drink the bartender brought him. “Perhaps you are right.” He smiled. “Perhaps we should simply create a cat-free zone.” He reached over the bar and touched Amelia’s hand. “Let’s not let a silly accident spoil our chat. Now tell me about your work.”

Amelia gave a rough outline of the work she did for Bretzel and Burke, explaining that she was on her way to Paris as soon as she left Alexandria.

“And when will that be?” Kaffar asked.

“I’m not certain.” Amelia found that her resolve to track her sister into the desert had waned. The more she thought about the adventure, the less she liked it. Harad’s high-handed treatment had gotten her dander up, but now she wasn’t certain she wanted to follow through. She couldn’t make the wedding, so perhaps a planned visit—in town—would be better.

“If you’re staying through tomorrow, perhaps I could drive you to Cairo. There are many things to see. Or we could explore the pyramids. Certainly you can’t visit Egypt and not see the Sphinx or the Great Pyramid.”

Amelia was relieved to see Mauve enter the bar. She didn’t have an answer for the doctor. He was an attractive man and the idea of sightseeing with him held appeal, but her heart really wasn’t in the game. If she didn’t chase down Beth, she needed to head to Paris. She stood and waved the redhead over to them. “Could I let you know tomorrow?” Amelia asked the doctor.

“Certainly.” He rose smoothly to his feet as Mauve joined them. After another twenty minutes of chitchat, Amelia excused herself, pleading exhaustion from her illness. Mauve and the doctor were deep in conversation. Just as she was turning to go, she winked at Mauve and gave her a thumb’s-up sign.

She was smiling to herself when she walked across the lobby. She’d left Mauve a clear field. Now it was up to the redhead to play the game.

HARAD ARRIVED BACK in the lobby of the Abbula just in time to see Amelia in the bar, shaking Dr. Kaffar Mosheen’s hand. Mauve was there, too, staring up at the doctor with obvious interest. Still, jealousy made Harad’s back tighten and his fists clench. The good doctor had wasted no time in moving in on Amelia. Then he remembered that Dr. Mosheen hadn’t known where Amelia was staying. Obviously she had called him.

Harad stepped behind a column in the lobby to avoid detection. He’d come to tell Amelia that the arrangements for her excursion had been made. Standing in the lobby, watching the beautiful blonde walk past him, Harad knew that his motivation had been to see Amelia again. He could have telephoned the information to her, but telling her in person was a good reason to see her. And no matter how much he tried to deny it to himself, he wanted to see her.

He waited until she had time to get to her room, then he went to a hotel phone and dialed her number. She answered quickly, and he wondered if it was because she thought the doctor might be asking her to return. Another stab of feeling pricked him. The sensation was disorienting. He’d known a lot of beautiful women in the past, but none had ignited the fiery dagger of jealousy.

It had to be that Amelia was a challenge. That had to be the factor in his irrational emotions. He settled on that as he told her that he was in the lobby with news and documents for her, then waited. Her answer would tell him a lot about her.

“I’m not sleepy,” she said. “Why don’t you come up and tell me?”

He smiled as he hung up the phone and went to the elevator. It would seem Amelia had no interest in returning to the lobby. She’d left Kaffar Mosheen with Mauve. Harad couldn’t be certain of her exact reason, but he knew that it was a good sign as far as her intentions toward the doctor were concerned. He felt as if he’d gained ground in the battle.

Tapping on her door, he waited until she opened it. She was still dressed in the coral sheath, and she nodded toward a grouping of seats in the sitting room of the suite he’d rented for her.

“So, you found a guide for me?” she asked.

He thought he detected some reservation in her voice. Perhaps she was reconsidering.

“My conscience wouldn’t allow me to abandon you. The desert can be deadly. I gave Omar my word I would make sure you were safe. I’ve found a guide. He’s a trustworthy man, and he has the knowledge and resources to take you to Omar and Beth.”

Amelia’s face remained emotionless. “Thank you, Harad. It was kind of you to go to that trouble, and to do it so quickly.”

He nodded. “I still would not advise you to make this trip,” he said. “It’s a difficult journey, and dangerous. Not because of bandits or wild beasts. It is simply the endless sand and sun. A tiny miscalculation, and you could end up wandering for days.” He paused. “Or forever.”

His words were working on the chink in Amelia’s determination. If he judged it just right, he might be able to let her talk herself out of the entire misadventure.

“The guide you hired is reliable, though?”

“Yes, the very best. I was lucky he hadn’t already been engaged. But he is quite expensive. I warn you, you get what you pay for in this business, and it’s always best to purchase the finest. In equipment and personnel.”

“Yes.” She went to her purse and brought out a checkbook. “I’ll gladly reimburse you.”

He pulled the bills from his pocket and handed them to her. With a little help from Tep the guide, he’d padded them quite successfully. Once Amelia conceded the trip, he would personally refund all of her money.

He saw her eyebrows lift at the figure. “Ten thousand dollars?”

“Yes, he gave me a very good price, don’t you think?”

“I had no idea. I thought—” She bit off the rest of the sentence.

It was hard for Harad not to grin. “You will have Tep the guide, and one additional man. This amount will also cover all provisions, tents and camels.”

“Camels?” Amelia’s head snapped up. “I thought there were horses. Those Arabians. You know, The Black Stallion, King of the Wind, that kind of horse.”

“Unfortunately, this trip might be too arduous for a horse,” he continued to fib. “The camel has more stamina. More ability to survive if you should become lost. The hump. Perhaps you remember studying camels in some of your science classes.” He found he was having a delightful time, even if his conscience nagged at him. Still, his first priority was to protect his people.

“There are air searches, should someone become lost, right?”

“They are seldom successful. The desert is so vast. There are no landmarks. It makes air searches next to impossible. Of course, we would try…” He let his sentence fall away then stood. “Now I must go. The directions are written out for you. Be at that address at dawn.”

“Dawn?”

“An early start puts you that much ahead of the blaze of the sun. I believe the hotel shops are still open. If I were you, I’d invest in all the sunblock they have. Your skin is so fair. The sun here is unkind to such skin. After two weeks, you’ll look much older. It should assist you in your professional life. I understand that older women are given more respect.” He went to her, lifted her hand and kissed it gently. “Good luck, Amelia Corbet. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

He hurried out of the room before he burst into laughter. Maybe for the first time in her life, Amelia Corbet was behind the eight ball instead of aiming it at someone else.

Chapter Four

Dawn was just breaking in the eastern sky as Amelia got out of the taxi on the outskirts of Alexandria. Instead of the spices of the city, she caught the scent of horses and leather. The wind tugged gently at her white cotton blouse. To the south was the wide-open vista of the desert. She was at the right place.

The low, stucco building was the only place to go, and she paid the cabbie and lugged her recently purchased backpack over to the building and leaned it against the wall. Her shopping spree had been hasty and limited to the hotel shops, but she’d managed to find jeans and a few cotton blouses.

She was hesitating about leaving the backpack with her important papers against the wall, when the whinny of a horse caught her attention. She wished she wasn’t headed across the desert on a camel. She loved horses. In fact, she’d been the top jumper in the stables where she’d taken lessons years ago. That memory made her think of Beth, who also rode, but with a more conservative approach.

It would be good to see Beth. Far too much time— almost six months—had passed since they’d been together. That was what she had to focus on, not the camels or the hot sun or the desert. She looked again at the vast expanse of rolling waves of sand. The sun had begun to highlight the dunes with pink and gold, and Amelia was captured by the beauty of a place she’d never thought could be beautiful. To her the word desert had always meant thirst, burning heat and death. Untamed was the word that now came to mind. It was a wild beauty that the desert claimed.

And it was a little intimidating. Well, a lot intimidating. She could admit that, as long as no one was listening to her thoughts.

She walked into the building and was instantly captured by the beauty of the horses. A low whinny drew her to the first stall. “What a beauty,” she whispered to a gray mare. She was petting the horse’s forehead when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Ms. Corbet,” the man said, bowing. “I am Tep.” He smiled at her from beneath a white headdress. His flowing robes could not conceal the fact that he was tall and thin.

“You must come this way,” Tep said, taking her elbow and steering her through the stables and to the back. “I have retrieved the pack you left out front. All is ready and we must depart.”

Amelia saw the camels instantly. There were five of them, two standing and three kneeling on the ground. Without even giving her a chance to hesitate, Tep pushed her toward one of the kneeling camels and in a matter of thirty seconds she was on its back. The animal rudely complained as Tep forced it to its feet.

Amelia forgot about everything except hanging on to the wooden cradle that passed for a saddle. The rocking motion of the animal made it impossible to sit, and she hung on for dear life. Though Tep had put some rope reins in her hand, she could neither steer nor slow her camel as it began to run toward the desert.