Desert Jewels & Rising Stars

by Sharon Kendrick

  She couldn’t resist taking it. “It’s beautiful. Is it… um…gold?” The piece was obviously handmade, with stunning workmanship.

  “I helped the Bedu women of my tribe once with the wool trade. Some of them gave their jewelry, had it melted and remade into this as a thank-you gift.”

  She tried not to think how much the comb was probably worth, or that it really belonged in a museum. She stuck it into her hair and tried to work the knots out. He probably wouldn’t want her to remove the thing from his sight.

  He walked back to his desk. “I have the name of the man who most likely betrayed Aziz by selling his secrets. When asked specifically, a couple of security guys remembered that one of the oil well workers who also went on digs with Aziz bragged about coming into money soon, an inheritance from an uncle. They didn’t think anything of it at the time. I just checked into it.” His attention was on his computer screen again.

  “And?” The comb worked amazingly well.

  “His uncles are alive and well.” His face turned dark.

  “So he’s likely the one then. Track him down and question him.”

  “His name was Jusuf. He died at the same well explosion as Aziz.”

  She sank into a chair while she took that in. A couple of minutes passed before she gathered her thoughts. “Do you think that was on purpose? To get rid of any possible links to the man he worked for?”

  Karim leaned back in his chair. “I was sitting here considering the same thing. Aziz had no business at the well that morning. He could have been asked to go there by his enemies for some made-up reason. He must have gotten suspicious, because he called Tariq and wanted to tell him something but not over the phone. Tariq nearly went out there, but then the chopper broke down.”

  His face turned darker yet, and Julia remembered that Tariq was his other brother. His only living brother now. If not for the faulty chopper, he could have lost both of his brothers on the same day. The thought of that squeezed her heart, brought back the memory of losing her sisters, suddenly without warning, never to see them again.

  “Jusuf, the worker we are suspecting, was reassigned to work at the same well at the last second that morning.”

  “Do you know who blew up the well?”

  “A madman who wanted to take over leading the tribe. A half brother, actually. Long story,” he said. “But he is dead now.”

  The hard glint in his good eye said he might have had something to do with it. Julia chilled from the cold expression on his face.

  “Everyone thought Aziz’s death was an accident. Collateral damage. But I—”

  “Whoever wanted Aziz dead could have known about the well being set up and made sure Aziz and Jusuf were there at the right time,” she said.

  “That would be my best guess. I already put my men on investigating any possible connections.”

  She closed her eyes for a minute as she ran all that information through her head. That had to be it. They had to be on the right track. She went back to combing and yanked a strand to make it cooperate.

  He stood and walked over, held out his hand. “Let me help.”

  She only hesitated for a second. When it came to her hair, she could use all the help she could get.

  She wasn’t prepared for how intimate it would feel as he sank the comb into her unruly mane and worked through the knots one slow stroke at a time. The temperature was definitely rising in the room. Odd that she had never felt like this with her hairdresser. Karim affected her in many unexpected ways.

  She needed something to distract herself. Talk.

  “So, do many Bedu women have hair like this?” She turned to indicate the sturdy comb, pitying them.

  His intense expression softened, and a smile came to hover over his lips as he considered her question. “These kinds of combs are used to comb wool. Not this one. Wooden ones. This was a ceremonial gift.”

  “Wool, as in sheep?” She made a face.

  “Sheep, goat and camel. What’s wrong with that?”

  “I always knew my hair was bad, but I didn’t think I was in the sheep, goat and camel category. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  He laughed. And she couldn’t help staring. It was the first time he had allowed more than a hint of a smile. The sound was warm and deep, resonating in her chest. He stopped too quickly, as if he had surprised even himself.

  “Any idea where the statues might be? Could they have been at the well?” She asked the first question that popped into her mind, to dispel the intimacy of the moment.

  “Not likely. We’ve been rebuilding that. The whole area has been worked over. If anything was there, it would have been found by now.”

  “Do you know the last place Aziz searched for treasure?”

  He made a snortlike sound. “It’s not like he had a method. More like he fancied himself the Arabian Indiana Jones. Always searching old scrolls, and taking his findings to Dara and—” He froze midsentence.

  “What is it?”

  “The week before he died, he was up at the royal palace for dinner. We were supposed to go over some company business that night and I was angry at him for cancelling at the last second. What if—” He was dialing already, and spoke in Arabic first, before he switched to English, his face softening. Clearly he was fond of the person on the other end of the line.

  “How are you and the children? I trust all is well with the family.” He paused. Listened. “And my cousin?” He listened again.

  “Yes. Thank you. Nothing serious. I meant to ask you about that dinner with Aziz before he died. Had he mentioned any new finds?” He paused. “Are you sure?” He shook his head. “Any idea in what area he’s been digging?” He listened for the answer. “Thank you…soon…yes.”

  “So?” she asked impatiently as soon as he hung up.

  “Aziz spent some time at our grandfather’s cave that the king and the queen discovered not that long ago.” He didn’t seem as excited as she would have expected. If anything, he seemed troubled. “But that cave had been completely explored. All the treasure from the cave, which is in the middle of the desert, had been removed to the National Museum in the capital city, Tihrin. And there had never been any statues in there in the first place. The artifacts gained from there were much newer.”

  “Maybe Aziz didn’t find the statues there. But maybe he hid the god statues in that place.” She was thinking out loud.

  “Maybe. But it wouldn’t make any sense. It’s not as if the cave is hidden anymore. The entrance has been widened and built out. It’s a tourist destination for the locals. Young people go out on trips to see it. I don’t see any way to hide anything there. But I’ll go and check it in any case. I will leave you protected.” He handed the comb back to her. “You’re done. I’ll be glad to help anytime.” Banked fire glowed in his gaze.

  She felt her temperature rise. She held the comb out, back to him.

  “It’s yours.” He pushed her hand back gently, lingering for a brief moment with his long fingers on her hand.

  “I can’t. It’s too—”

  “It’s yours. Now you should rest.”

  What was it with all the rest, anyway? She’d rested all morning. She was entering that grace period of pregnancy when the nausea and endless fatigue of the first trimester had left her, but the bulk and all the aches and pains of the third trimester were still in the distant future. She felt completely well and energized. She didn’t need rest. She needed to go home, something she would see to as soon as Karim left the palace. Except he had her passport. She glanced at his suit jacket.

  There didn’t seem to be a way to get to that. She had only one other option: going to the American embassy and requesting a new one and their help along with it. Her plane ticket was for a week from now. She didn’t want to linger in this country that long. But she was sure they could assist her with that, too.

  She felt a brief pang of guilt for deserting Karim in the middle of this mess. But she had nothing to do with it. She had gott
en dragged into all this, quite against her will. Her first duty was to her baby. Everything else came second to keeping her baby safe.

  “What if whoever is after you is watching your palace?” She didn’t want him getting hurt.

  “I’ll have some delivery made. I’ll be leaving in the delivery guy’s clothes and car.”

  Sounded like a plan. “Good luck. I think I will rest.” She walked to the door. When she turned, Karim’s gaze was on her, a speculative look on his face.

  She pressed a hand to her abdomen.

  The look instantly switched to concern. “I’ll have the doctor check on you again. I’ll make sure she’ll stop in every day while I’m gone.”

  She took a last long look at him. The thought that she would miss him sounded too crazy to consider. She walked out before she could feel even more guilty about deceiving him and did or said something stupid that would betray her plans.

  She hurried down the hallway and didn’t slow any when she’d gotten inside her rooms, which were a mess. Karim had a carload of clothes delivered for her, and she hadn’t gotten around to picking a personal maid yet and hadn’t had a chance to sort everything and find a place for it all to be put away. At this stage, it was something she didn’t need to worry about.

  She had plenty of other things to occupy her mind, thank you very much.

  To get to the embassy, she had to first get out of the palace. Which would be impossible on her own. But Karim was leaving. And his men wouldn’t be searching his car. He was going on an expedition, which likely meant he’d be taking lots of equipment if he meant to be digging. The perfect opportunity for one small woman to hide among them. She’d leave at the first red light they stopped for.

  She put the comb on the desk in the corner. She couldn’t take that, she thought with some regret. Never in her life had she owned something so beautiful. It was too valuable a gift. And it would only remind her of Karim.

  She pushed him from her thoughts and braided her hair to keep it out of the way, looked around at her new belongings and chose comfortable slacks and shoes. At the last moment she then grabbed a black, nondescript abaya. She should be able to make her way safely to the embassy in that.

  She was about to put it on when someone knocked on her door. She shoved the abaya back into the pile. “Come in.”

  The door opened to reveal Karim.

  “The staff is instructed to take care of you. Anything you want, you need only to request it,” he said.

  And she nearly asked if that included her freedom.

  Looked like he’d read her intention in her eyes. “You’ll be safe inside the gates.”

  She shrugged. Let him believe that she’d given up.

  He moved closer, stopped a few inches from her, his gaze burning into hers. The air grew thick between them, got stuck in her lungs. His good eye searched her face. She could smell the scent of his sandalwood soap, could feel the heat of his body. He was close, too close, too intense, too easily reading her mind.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” She played the innocent.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt. Don’t try to leave while I’m gone.”

  “I won’t.” And she wasn’t lying. She would be leaving with him.

  He shifted, as if ready to walk away, but stayed where he was, holding her gaze.

  Heat gathered between them. His gaze dropped to her lips. The heat dropped to the V of her thighs.

  She desperately wanted him to kiss her, knowing it would be the last time. She would be gone by the time he returned from his trip to the desert. She swayed forward a little. He stayed where he was. How disappointing.

  “This thing—” he started to say.

  “It’s not a good idea,” she finished.

  Not that either of them moved back an inch.

  “I don’t seem to be able to help myself,” he admitted as he lowered his head at last.

  She knew how he felt.

  But in the next second, she forgot all she knew, the only thing real being the feel of his lips against hers. He was gentle, incredibly gentle as he always had been. But soon a fiercer undertone crept between them, and the heat increased, and he didn’t cajole anymore. He took.

  She could feel the whole of his need in that kiss, and it shook her, because it said he wanted to take more, wanted to take it all. And in that moment, she was willing to give it, mindlessly losing herself to him.

  Then the kiss changed again, to that of possession and branding. He was claiming her. She didn’t have it in her to protest.

  She was struggling to find any control at all by the time he finished with her, hell, struggling just to stay upright. But before she could even catch her breath, he was leaning low again, and she braced herself for the next assault on her senses.

  But when his lips reached dangerously close, instead of claiming her again, they parted to issue a warning.

  “There is no place you could run where I wouldn’t find you.”

  Chapter Eight

  The plan had been great and it could have worked. The delivery truck had canvas flaps for sides, easy to get in and out of. And since the truck bed sat low to the ground, it wouldn’t have been difficult to jump off once the vehicle stopped at a red light. Julia had gotten into the very last crate, a large one right next to the tailgate. It held ropes and a pickax. The only mistake she’d made was not realizing how much equipment Karim meant to take. At the last minute, he’d put a box on her crate. Then a box on top of that. Enough weight so she couldn’t push it aside.

  Luckily, her crate had plenty of cracks in it so she could breathe. But the pickax dug into her side. Her limbs were going numb. They’d been traveling for hours, and she was thirsty and hungry. She could have brought food and water—there’d been plenty of it in her room—but as she had planned on parting company with Karim within minutes of him driving through the palace gate, she hadn’t. She had to go to the bathroom so badly her eyes were crossing.

  The space was too uncomfortable to sleep, too small to move. She hadn’t cared back when she’d gotten in, just considered herself lucky that there was enough room for her. She hadn’t known that she would be spending hours in there. Now she cursed her rash decision.

  She’d been rash because she’d been desperate. She’d been desperate because of Karim. The way his kisses made her feel notwithstanding, he’d been nothing but trouble since she’d set eyes on the man. And how dare he kiss her, anyway? She had plenty of time and felt plenty miserable to have worked herself up to a good, righteous anger. To hell with Karim, she thought just as the car stopped.

  Kind of lurched to a stop, actually, rattling her in the crate. Had they arrived or was something wrong? Desert bandits came to mind. The receptionist at the Hilton had warned her about them, after giving her some flyers at check-in that listed all the fun activities one could do in Tihrin, including guided desert tours. Apparently, there’d been recent attacks. Which hadn’t bothered her much at the time, as she hadn’t intended to do any sightseeing, especially not in the desert. Her plan had been simple: get in, see Aziz, get out.

  The door on the truck’s cab slammed shut.

  She listened for voices as she grabbed for the handle of the pickax.

  “WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Karim growled as Julia awkwardly climbed out of one of the crates with a pickax in her hand.

  She moved slowly. Her legs had probably fallen asleep. She looked a little peaked all around, her full lips parched. “Fighting for my freedom,” she said, looking very much like a woman on the edge.

  Did hormones do that? Make pregnant women utterly unreasonable? He hoped so. Didn’t want to think that she would be like this all the time. She could be the mother of his nephew, after all. But, by Allah, she was a lot of trouble, more perhaps than she was worth. And for a moment, he couldn’t understand what Aziz could have possibly seen in her.

  Then she raised the pickax and her eyes flashed their golden-brown depths, her amazing hair
having come undone from its braid, flitting in the breeze. And he had to admit that even as unreasonable and disobedient as she was, she was magnificent.

  “Relax.” He took the ax from her.

  “When we stopped, I thought maybe the bad guys caught up with us. Or you ran into bandits.”

  So the ax hadn’t been for him. Good to know.

  “I saw tracks in the sand. This is the last place where Aziz had been digging. We’re in the middle of the desert. People come out now and then to see the cave, but not that often. The tracks could be meaningful, maybe. I didn’t want to run them over. I want to look at them and see if I can figure out anything.” Now, however, he was considering turning around and taking her back home before he did any investigating out here at the cave at all.

  Except, she looked as if she could use a break. The long drive back was more than she should be subjected to right away. He swore under his breath then carefully swooped her into his arms and carried her into the cave, into shade, keeping his eyes on the tracks that looked a few days old on closer inspection. Two cars, a handful of men. No sign of anything having been dragged out of the cave.

  She wouldn’t put her arms around his neck, but she leaned against his chest to balance her weight. She felt light in his arms, too light, making him wonder once again if she was eating enough.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She lifted her head and flashed him a scathing look.

  Apparently, she felt good enough to fight him every step of the way. She thought she fought for her freedom. He bit back an annoyed remark. Then paused. If their situations were reversed… A crazy thought. He was a man, a sheik. He did not need anyone’s protection, while she was obviously in desperate need of it.

  He could have put her down as soon as they were in the cave, but he walked to the back with her, not wanting to let go. She felt fragile pressed up against him, bringing out protective instincts. Her full breasts were plastered against his chest, bringing out another response altogether. He wanted to kiss her again, wanted more, but the scowl on her beautiful face warned him that this might not be the best time.