Flight to Romance

by Tracy Sinclair

  Ayesha's voice was sulky. "I didn't wish to disturb you, but we are going out to dinner now."

  "You could never disturb me." Kalim's voice was warm. "As a matter of fact, my childhood friend, you could not have arrived at a better time. Come, let us join the others."

  Their voices receded down the hall and Jennifer lowered her listening head, unwilling to believe her ears. She had her answer, but it was too denigrating to think about. He was happy that Ayesha had interrupted them before anything irrevocable had happened between them.

  Was he afraid Jennifer might have gotten the silly idea that he was in love with her? Not likely! She would just have joined the long list of women who had shared his bed. Women to be enjoyed and forgotten the next morning.

  She ought to be grateful to Ayesha, and she was— but so was he! Ayesha had saved him from facing an awkward aftermath. Jennifer was here to do a job, and although his male lust was automatically stimulated by the sight of a nude female body, he didn't really want any entanglements when it came to business.

  How would she ever face him again, remembering her abject surrender? He wouldn't realize the enormity of what had almost happened. Kalim would think this was her normal behavior. How could she convince him that she didn't fall into bed with every handsome man she met? Had never fallen into bed with one as a matter of fact!

  No, it was hopeless—the whole situation was. She was right in feeling she should never have come. The only solution was to go home immediately. Never mind the sticky situation that might arise. It would work out or it wouldn't. At the moment, she couldn't care less. The important thing was to get away.

  She would tell Kalim in the morning that she was returning to America and he could like it or lump it! Judging by his relieved greeting to Ayesha, he wouldn't make any trouble.

  As soon as she had made a decision, Jennifer's wild panic subsided and a measure of calm returned. Nothing could erase the terrible shame and guilt, but at least she had a plan in mind and the knowledge that her ordeal would soon be over.

  Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was getting late. She hadn't had any dinner, but the change in time and her rebellious stomach rejected the idea of food. Much better to get a good night's sleep in order to face tomorrow's long return trip.

  Sleep was washing over her and relaxing her tired limbs when a niggling thought teased her back to consciousness—Kalim had never returned her passport. She would have to track it down and retrieve it in the morning.

  On that disquieting note Jennifer drifted into oblivion.

  Chapter Four

  Jennifer opened her eyes reluctantly the next morning, unconsciously bracing herself to face the arduous day ahead. But when she glanced drearily at the clock, an unpleasant surprise caused her to sit bolt upright in bed. Was it really almost noon? How could she possibly have slept so late after all those good intentions about making an early start? It probably had something to do with the time change and the fact that her body hadn't adjusted to it yet. Wasn't there about thirteen hours' difference between Cairo and San Francisco? After futilely trying to make the calculation, she gave up in disgust. What difference did it make? The main thing was to get out of here as quickly as possible!

  After a quick shower, she dressed rapidly and sped down to the lobby. For once the front desk wasn't its usual madhouse of activity and a smiling clerk came forward to greet her.

  "I'd like my passport back," Jennifer told him, hoping her firm tone would convey a confidence she was far from feeling.

  He nodded pleasantly and opened a deep drawer. But when he shuffled through a whole assortment of papers and the magic booklet wasn't forthcoming, Jennifer's apprehension started to mount. Slowly the man's smile faded, and with a murmured apology he excused himself and disappeared into the back office.

  She waited numbly, trying to control her rising panic, but when the clerk returned he was smiling. "All is well, Miss Fairchild. Mr. Kahira has already retrieved your passport."

  Oh, no! All is not well, she wanted to tell him. In fact, all couldn't be worse! Last night Jennifer had lulled herself to sleep with the thought that she would never have to see Kalim again. It had seemed so simple. By this time she had fully expected to be on a plane for home, and if everything had gone according to plan, she would have been packed and gone before he had the slightest inkling. But when one thing went wrong, everything followed suit.

  With a sinking heart Jennifer turned toward the elevator. It wasn't that she anticipated any trouble with Kalim, it was just that she didn't know if she could summon the strength to face him. Not after last night.

  Her feet dragged reluctantly down the carpeted corridor and she had to force herself to knock on his door. What if Ayesha were with him? What if they… Banishing the churning images that tied her stomach in knots, Jennifer set her chin and rapped firmly on the door.

  It was answered almost at once by Habeeb, who took a swift look at her set face and stepped aside for her to enter.

  Kalim was seated at a table near the window, a scattering of papers spread out in front of him, and Jennifer noted with relief that he was alone. A damask-covered trolley table with the remains of his breakfast was pushed into a corner and Kalim was dressed in white slacks and a pale blue shirt that accentuated his deep tan.

  As she advanced grimly into the room, he sprang up, eyes alight. "Jennifer, my dear, I did not think you would be up yet—the change in time. I did not wish to disturb you. Did you rest well?"

  She looked at him in amazement! Of all the receptions she had steeled herself for, this wasn't one of them. How could he possibly act as though nothing had happened between them? And almost immediately the answer presented itself. Last night had been cataclysmic for her, but for him it had been an unimportant little incident that hadn't quite come off, and rightfully so. His relief was insultingly evident.

  Refusing to play games, Jennifer came right to the point. "I've come for my passport."

  The eagerness died out of his eyes and the hands that had been reaching for her wavered. "I do not understand."

  "It's quite simple. I'm going home—today if I can get a plane."

  "But why?"

  If Jennifer hadn't known better, she could almost have believed in his bewilderment, he sounded so genuinely perplexed. Which only increased her contempt. Why couldn't he be as honest with her as she was being with him?

  "You know perfectly well why and I'd rather not discuss it. My passport please."

  "Jennifer, my dearest." He put his hands on her shoulders and her treacherous body remembered their imprint. Trembling, she tried to wrench away, but he held her fast. "I am so sorry about last night."

  "I'm sure you are. Did your girl friend give you a bad time or were you able to convince her that it was only a momentary aberration!" She spat the last word at him.

  Kalim's eyes narrowed and his fingers suddenly tightened. "What are you saying?"

  "I realized from the beginning that Ayesha had you on a very short leash, so if you're in real trouble, I'll be glad to give you a note saying absolutely nothing happened," she said scornfully to hide the pain that was twisting her heart.

  Kalim's eyes were like chips of ice as he released her. "You think I left you last night because of Ayesha?"

  "I don't want to talk about it and I shouldn't think you would either." Jennifer's composure, such as it was, threatened to desert her, but she held herself under tight rein. "Just give me my passport so I can get out of here."

  "You really intend to return home?" His dark eyes examined her set face.

  "That's exactly right," she snapped.

  A marked change came over him. Folding his arms, Kalim lounged against the table and looked at her without expression. "And what will happen to all those plans that you told me would be in jeopardy if you did not accompany me?"

  "I don't care anymore!" she cried. "My life will never be the same anyway—isn't that enough for you?" Even as the words tumbled out, she was aware of how mel
odramatic they sounded, but she was beyond caring.

  A small smile touched his lips. "I think you are being a little dramatic. Is it possible that no man has ever seen your beautiful body—or touched it?"

  His caressing voice brought flames to her cheeks. "Oh… you… you're despicable! I hope I never see you again as long as I live."

  "That should prove rather difficult." One eyebrow raised derisively. "Since the conference will start in a few days, you will see quite a lot of me."

  "Didn't you hear what I said?" she cried in outrage. "I'm going home."

  A frown creased his forehead and he looked imperiously at her. "You are not going anywhere. You will stay until I give you permission to leave."

  Jennifer felt a searing anger flood through her. "Just whom do you think you're talking to? I'm not one of your peasant girls to be ordered around like a possession. You don't own me!"

  "Do not put ideas into my head." His mouth curved cruelly as he looked her up and down. "You would be quite a… souvenir to bring home to my estate in Luxor. Little girls with pale hair like yours are much prized in this part of the world. Our women are beautiful, but they are dark and passionate. You, my cold little friend, might be an intriguing change."

  A sudden chill ran through Jennifer, but she set her teeth grimly. "If you don't give me my passport this very instant, I'm going to the American Embassy."

  "And tell them what?" His tone was cynical. "You can scarcely claim I kidnapped you since your trip was arranged by your own State Department."

  "I'll tell them the truth." At his amused stare she faltered. "I mean, I'll tell them you won't let me go, that you're keeping me here against my will."

  Kalim lit a long, slender brown cigarette and lifted his chin to watch the smoke spiral toward the ceiling. "And then your American official and I would have to confer on what to do about these delusions of yours. He would not welcome unfortunate publicity on the eve of the conference when the eyes of the world are focused on Cairo. I have no doubt that I could easily convince him it would be best to seek discreet treatment for you here. A private sanitarium perhaps."

  "You wouldn't!" Her voice was a horrified whisper.

  Kalim shrugged. "You believe everything else about me, why would you doubt that?"

  Jennifer felt the room closing in around her. Kalim had won again. She was caught in a trap and every time she tried to get away he tightened it a little bit more just to be sure she got the message. What on earth was she going to do?

  As if indicating that the interview was at an end, Kalim turned back to his desk. For a moment she could only stare at his formidable back. Then, with tears blurring her eyes, she turned and ran out of the room and down endless flights of stairs.

  Speeding across the mosaic tiled floor of the lobby, Jennifer was unaware of anything except an urgent need to escape. It followed her through the revolving doors, but when the brilliant Cairo sun hit her, she blinked like someone coming out of a trance. Where was she going? Traffic noises assailed her ears and a toothless old man plucked insistently at her sleeve with dirty, clutching fingers. Even as Jennifer shrank away, the doorman dispatched him with fierce, unintelligible words and she escaped down the street and mingled with the crowd, finding solace in anonymity.

  At first, misery engulfed her like a noxious cloud and she concentrated on nothing except putting one foot in front of the other. One block merged into another, unnoticed by the desolate girl. But gradually the vitality of the city intruded on her wretchedness, refusing to be ignored.

  Cairo was a city of opposites. Men in long enveloping burnooses kept pace with their counterparts in beige linen suits just as modern skyscrapers rubbed elbows with ancient buildings decorated by craftsmen long gone. Automobiles snarled their outrage at the outmoded donkey carts and honked raucously at the occasional camel.

  Jennifer was fascinated in spite of herself, and as she wandered through the teeming streets, the wonder of this urgent, seething city gripped her. Without knowing or caring where she was going, she drifted with the crowd, watching the fascinating mixture of people, listening to snatches of conversation, and glancing into shop windows.

  Suddenly, her eye was caught by the pink mimosa trees she had seen from the plane—or else some very like them. They were spreading their glory across the front of the Egyptian Museum and she gravitated naturally toward the entrance.

  The traveling Tutankhamen show had been in San Francisco a short time previously and Jennifer, like the rest of the country, had been dazzled by its splendor. She had heard that the artifacts on tour were only a tiny fraction of what was left behind and now was her opportunity to see the rest of the collection.

  Entering the stately museum was like walking back into history. The lighting was poor and the floor was cracked in places, but it seemed somehow fitting—mute evidence of the ravages of time. Yet nothing could dim the magnificence of its contents.

  On the main floor Jennifer paused in front of the statues of the Pharaoh Ramotet and his wife, sitting in state as they had more than five thousand years ago. It was hard to comprehend, but this serene, imperious couple had lived in 2660 B.C. Not only lived, but laughed and made love and suffered all the joys and sorrows that the human race is heir to. It was soothing, in a way—an affirmation of the continuity of time.

  Drifting on, Jennifer inspected treasures great and small—magnificent limestone sarcophagi etched with detailed scenes of people performing everyday functions, great thronelike chairs that appeared to be made of pure gold, small translucent bowls as exquisite as teardrops, and tiny statues of stylized animals.

  Pausing before a miniature reclining figure of an Egyptian girl holding a bowl shaped like a duck in her outstretched arms, Jennifer was entranced to discover that it had been used as a "cosmetic spoon." The delicate little whimsey, preserved through the ages, was proof that these people had indeed been human, with all the foibles and fancies of mankind.

  Time passed unnoticed as Jennifer was transported into the world of the Pharaohs. It was a voyage of enchanted discovery as she inspected their jewelry and their utensils, their statues and their gods. Hours went by and her mind was still not surfeited, but when her legs started to tremble with fatigue she realized that it was almost a full day since she had eaten. There was still so much to see, but it would never do to faint from hunger. Reluctantly, Jennifer decided she had better search for a restaurant.

  There was a small cafe just a short distance away, and when she was shown to a table Jennifer sank down gratefully. After giving her order, she tried to slip back into the ambiance of ancient Egypt, but it was no good. The modern world kept intruding on all the thoughts she had held in abeyance for those enchanted hours inside the museum.

  Kalim's giant shadow returned to hover over her like the wings of the great god Horus and she realized that he had never really left her thoughts, even while she drifted through the treasures of antiquity. There was one statue in particular that had reminded her of him—the same arrogant face with high cheekbones and penetrating dark eyes.

  Jennifer gave a despairing sigh. Would there always be something to remind her of him? Broad shoulders towering over the crowd or a handsome aquiline profile barely glimpsed from a distance? She knew he had left an indelible mark on her life, but if she could only get far enough away from his disturbing presence, maybe the healing process would begin. If only she could go home!

  That was the problem, but what was the solution? Unfortunately, at the moment she couldn't think of any. Pushing aside the half-eaten food, she stared at the tablecloth. What now? She couldn't very well wander around forever, but the idea of going back to the hotel was intolerable.

  Walking aimlessly down the street after paying her bill, she saw a theater that advertised an American movie. It was an old film that she had seen years ago, but nostalgia filled her with a sudden yearning for anything that spoke of the safety of home. Besides, it was a haven and a postponement.

  Slipping into a seat in
the darkened theater, Jennifer stared at the screen as though it were a lifeline. The familiar accents fell softly on her ears and everything looked blessedly familiar—the clothes, the people, even the shaggy dog that played a small part. Gradually her tired body relaxed and it was only with great effort that she managed not to doze off. When the lights went on a long while later she blinked, returning reluctantly to reality.

  It was dark when she trailed outside after the other patrons and, looking at her watch, Jennifer gasped at the time. It couldn't be that late! Of course she had gotten a very late start and spent hours and hours at the museum and then the movie, but still—

  The crowd dissipated quickly, leaving Jennifer uncertain and alone, unwilling to leave the brightly lit space in front of the box office. Finally forcing herself to action, she wandered out to the sidewalk and was almost immediately surrounded by shadowy figures that appeared out of nowhere.

  A sly dwarfish creature pulled at her skirt, begging for money, and an olive-skinned man with shifty eyes grasped her arm, offering to guide her through Cairo. His dirty fingernails scratched her soft skin and when she tried to pull away, he became more insistent. Other figures approached, hands outstretched, their voices more menacing than imploring.

  Jennifer felt panic rising when, like a miracle, a cab stopped to discharge a man and woman in front of the theater. Bursting out of the circle around her, Jennifer made a dash for the taxi and scrambled inside before the man had even finished paying the driver. Slamming the door, she gave the name of the hotel and the car plunged off like a burro with a bee under its blanket.

  The wild ride that followed had Jennifer clutching the seat with whitened knuckles. After the first near collision, she closed her eyes and was spared the driver's headlong maneuvers down narrow streets clogged with traffic. Loud imprecations and much horn blowing accompanied their progress, and although disaster seemed inevitable, they managed to arrive at the hotel a short, heart-stopping time later.