“I gave my word that I would protect you. I’m honor bound to do that.”

“Your honor doesn’t require that you die for me.” Amelia reined in her horse. When Harad moved up beside her, she reached out, urging him to stop. “I don’t expect you to spend the rest of your life protecting me.”

She was so sincere and brave that Harad couldn’t resist. “What if that’s the way I choose to spend my time?” he asked.

Amelia looked directly into his eyes. “I’d say you were a man who enjoyed thankless tasks,” she answered.

Harad’s laughter was long and loud. “A glutton for punishment is the phrase I’ve heard.” He leaned over and brushed his lips to hers. “Call me a fool, but nothing will prevent me from protecting you. Not even your own hardheadedness.”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Summer lovin’ holds not only passion, but also danger! Splash into a whirlpool of suspense with these four new titles!

Return to the desert sands of Egypt with your favorite black cat in Familiar Oasis, the companion title in Caroline Burnes’s FEAR FAMILIAR: DESERT MYSTERIES miniseries. This time Familiar must help high-powered executive Amelia Corbet, who stumbles on an evil plot when trying to save her sister. But who will save Amelia from the dark and brooding desert dweller who is intent on capturing her for his own?

Ann Voss Peterson brings you the second installment in our powerhouse CHICAGO CONFIDENTIAL continuity. Law Davies is not only an attorney, but an undercover agent determined to rescue his one and only love from a dangerous cult—and he is Laying Down the Law.

Travel with bestselling author Joanna Wayne to the American South as she continues her ongoing series HIDDEN PASSIONS. In Mystic Isle, Kathryn Morland must trust a sexy and seemingly dangerous stranger—who is actually an undercover ex-cop!—to help her escape from the Louisiana bayou alive!

And we are so pleased to present you with a story from newcomer Kasi Blake that is as big as Texas itself! Two years widowed, Julia Keller is confronted on her Texas ranch by a lone lawman with the face of her dead beloved husband. Is he really her long-lost mate and father of her child—or an impostor? That is the question for this Would-Be Wife.

Enjoy all four!

Denise O’Sullivan

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

Familiar Oasis
Caroline Burnes

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Caroline Burnes continues her life as doorman and can opener for her six cats and three dogs. E. A. Poe, the prototype cat for Familiar, rules as king of the ranch, followed by his lieutenants, Miss Vesta, Gumbo, Chester, Maggie the Cat and Ash. The dogs, though a more lowly life form, are tolerated as foot soldiers by the cats. They are Sweetie Pie, Maybelline and Corky.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Familiar—After adventuring with Beth Bradshaw in the desert sands of Egypt, Familiar is ready for food, sleep and a return ticket to the U.S.A. until he finds himself swept up in an attack on Amelia Corbet, Beth’s “adopted” sister.

Amelia Corbet—High-powered executive Amelia lands in Alexandria to rush to the aid of Beth Bradshaw. But Amelia becomes the intended victim of a foul plan only moments after she arrives.

Harad Dukhan—Harad gave up his desert heritage to pursue a career in the modern world, but his heart is still with the desert people of his mother. Amelia Corbet’s arrival pulls Harad into an intrigue where not only his heart, but his life, is at stake.

Mauve Killigan—Perky and always on the spot when trouble threatens, Mauve might be part of the solution or part of the problem.

Dr. Kaffar Mosheen—Handsome and talented in the use of poisons, Kaffar is either a lifesaver or an “attempted” murderer.

Abdul—Leader of a maurading nomadic band that is best described as pirates of the sand, Abdul is a self-proclaimed thief. But is he a trader in flesh?

Marie Johnson—Harad’s secretary knows all of his secrets, as well as his whereabouts at all times. Is she spilling the beans to his enemies?

Nazar Bettina—He escaped capture and has vanished from Egypt. Is he really gone?

Keya—Harad offered her banishment instead of prison. Was it a wise choice or a deadly mistake?

To my brother and sister-in-law, David and Gail. They’ve rescued, spayed and neutered, and loved and buried dozens of felines. When others turned their backs on unwanted animals, they opened their home.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One

The heat of Alexandria is intense, but after my little sojourn in the desert, I vowed not to complain about minor things anymore. All I can say is that if I never have to ride on a horse again for the rest of my life, it’ll be too soon.

Peter and Eleanor, my humanoids, have finished the veterinarian symposium for which they came to this sunburnt metropolis, and they’ve given me fair warning that they’re leaving in four days. For the moment, they want to sightsee and vacation a little. They’ve made it clear they want me back at our hotel each night by midnight. Can you believe they’re actually trying to set a curfew for me, Familiar, black cat detective? Right. That only goes to show how deluded humanoids can be. Cats do not believe in curfews. Nor are we willingly ordered about for any reason.

But I forgive my humans. They’ve been worried about me, and as I know from experience, it’s tough to relax and have fun when you’re worried about someone you love.

The truth is, a midnight curfew sounds sort of good. I’m worn out. All I really have left to do is to make sure Amelia Corbet arrives in Alexandria safely, and that Mauve meets her and tells her that Beth is safe and happily on her way to wedded bliss in the desert.

Beth wanted to wait for Amelia to arrive. She wanted her “sister” to be with her for the wedding. But the Moon of Con was only six days off, and she had to hustle to get to the lost city for the ceremony during the full moon. It was important to Omar, a tradition of his people for many centuries. So now it’s up to Mauve to convince Amelia that all is well with Beth and that her “sister” had chosen wisely in marrying a desert sheik.

I would have adored seeing this mystical marriage ceremony, but someone had to come back to the city and tie up the loose ends. Besides, as I’ve mentioned, I have a small responsibility not to worry my humanoids more than is absolutely necessary. Beth and Omar are fine. It’s time for me to put a little effort into Peter and Eleanor.

I can’t help but wonder, though, if Beth will continue with her research. She’s a talented archeologist and anthropologist, and her theory about the great Con was right on target.

She came to Egypt to prove that Con was one of the most powerful females in history, and she did that. The question is, will she publish her research and risk exposing Omar’s protected heritage, or will she keep the secret?

I guess time will tell. For now, though, I see a big Pan-Am bird circling the airport and heading for a landing strip. Amelia should be on this flight. So where is Mauve? I don’t see a sign of the redhead. Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice would say. Mauve struck me as someone who would do what she said she’d do. She said she’d meet Amelia, explain the situation and make sure Amelia didn’t spend a moment worrying. I suppose I’ll have to figure out a way to detain Ms. Corbet until Mauve gets here.

The passengers are disembarking. Beth said Amelia is her exact opposite. Tall, blond vivacious and tough as nails. And there she is! Wow! She looks as if she walked right off a Paris runway. And I can just hear Nancy Sinatra in the background singing, “These boots are made for walking.” Amelia Corbet acts as though she could walk over General Patton. Beth wasn’t exaggerating when she said the woman she grew up with and considers her adopted sister is nothing like herself. Let me swagger on over and check out this babe up close.

AMELIA WAS TIRED, gritty, annoyed and sick with worry as she exited the plane and stepped into a gate area of the Alexandria airport. The hot Egyptian summer air smacked into her hard. She hated heat. She hated the sun. She hated the fear that made her stomach feel as if someone had punched her.

Beth wasn’t the kind of person to send cryptic messages or play games. Her adopted sister was in real trouble.

Amelia pulled her suitcase behind her. Long ago she’d learned to pack light and never check a bag. Customs was going to take long enough—she had no intention of wasting precious time in baggage claim. She had to find her sister and make certain Beth was okay, and then she had to get on to Paris.

The public relations/advertising firm where she was a senior vice president had just won the coveted French account of Momante, producer of the world’s most sensual perfume. Amelia was personally handling the entire campaign. It was a plum of an assignment, and she’d scrapped hard to get it. Once Beth was safe, Amelia’d be on her way to a country that understood the finer things in life, such as perfume, chocolate, champagne and men who knew how to make a woman feel like a woman.

After her latest breakup—she’d known better than to let things with the GQ model get serious—she needed a man who was more intrigued by his woman’s appearance than by his own. She chuckled softly to herself at the irony of her situation. Roberto, with his dark Latino charm and eyes that could summon a look of passion on cue, had been as much fun as an egomaniac could be. But it had ended badly, and Amelia had made a solemn vow not to let another man close to her heart.

Amelia’s hand went to the necklace at her throat, her slender fingers catching the gold scarab. It had arrived by special courier only moments before she got in the cab to head to the airport. The urgent arrival of this package, so soon after the package full of strange photographs Beth had sent her, had increased Amelia’s fear for her sister. The note from Beth had asked her to wear the necklace prominently so that Amelia could be identified.

Identified by whom? First there was the packet from Beth with the disk, the photos and the word Merlin—their private childhood code for danger. Then she’d got another urgent message from Mauve Parker saying Beth was in danger.

And where, exactly, was Beth?

Stuffed in Amelia’s suitcase were the strange photographs of what looked like some ancient and indecipherable language. It was a combination of scratches and pictures that gave Amelia a headache every time she studied it. She didn’t have to strain her imagination to see Beth poring over the pictures, delight evident.

Beth had always been the one who preferred math equations, puzzles, measuring things and making them fit. Beth was the detail person, the perfectionist. Amelia was all action and no introspection.

And that was just the way she liked her life. Fast, busy and exciting.

She scanned the airport, halting so abruptly that a man walking behind her actually stumbled into her. She felt a sharp sting in the back of her neck as she regained her balance.

“I’m sorry,” Amelia said, her hand still fingering the pendant she wore on her neck. The man’s eyes locked on the medallion and then slid up her face. Her neck was burning.

“No need to apologize,” he said in only slightly accented English. He brushed past her and was gone.

Amelia searched the airport, her blue gaze moving from one unfamiliar face to another. Everyone was bustling about as if they knew exactly where they were going. And there were cats everywhere! She frowned as she realized that cats were lounging on chairs, sleeping in the sun that shafted in through the windows, and trotting along the concourses. The felines had taken over the airport, and no one seemed to notice.

A large black cat began to rub on her leg. Amelia sidestepped. “Shoo!” she said. She didn’t particularly like cats. They were arrogant and demanding. Nothing like her J.J., the Jack Russell and whippet mix that she’d rescued from the pound.

She started to walk forward, still a little puzzled as to why someone wasn’t waiting for her. To her surprise, the cat snagged her black leather boots with a sharp claw.

“Hey!” she said, trying to shake free. When he wouldn’t retract his claws, she looked around for help. Not a single person would even look in her direction.

“Release me,” she said to the cat, aware that he was staring right into her eyes as if he had something to tell her.

“Ms. Corbet?”

The voice was low, dark and compelling. Amelia forgot the cat as she turned to confront the man who’d spoken to her.

“Yes, I’m Amelia Corbet. And you are?” She put out her hand. A wave of dizziness came out of nowhere and smacked into her. The hand she’d extended pressed against the handsome stranger’s chest as she tried to block her fall. Her body was suddenly completely out of control. She tried to speak, but her throat had grown sluggish and thick. Her tongue couldn’t move, and she could hear the quick, panicked breaths she was dragging into her lungs.

“Help me.” She mouthed the words, aware that no sound had come from her mouth. Though she couldn’t talk, she could see that the man holding her was aware that something was very wrong. His dark eyes filled with worry as he began shouting for help.

It was the last thing Amelia remembered.

HARAD DUKHAN HELD the woman in his arms as he waited for medical help. Amelia Corbet had been a total shock to him, as had the fact that Mauve was not in the airport to meet Beth’s sister. He was there only because his brother Omar had asked him to make sure Amelia understood that Beth was happy. Her only regret was that her adopted family didn’t have time to attend the ceremony because of the full moon.

It was with relief that Harad helped the paramedics place the tall, thin blonde on a stretcher and prepare her for transport to the hospital. She was out cold, Harad saw. Cold and pale, and yet her forehead was beaded with perspiration. He lifted one of her hands. It was lifeless and chilled. Only minutes before, she’d been striding across the airport concourse like the Queen of Sheba.

Harad had seen the incident where the man had stumbled into Amelia. Just as the paramedics lifted the stretcher, Harad decided to play a hunch. He halted them a moment and brushed back Amelia’s hair. The first thing he saw was the golden scarab hanging from the expensive gold chain. It was a work of art, and very Egyptian. He moved it away and began to examine her skin. The mark on the right side of her neck was big, angry and red.

“Check her for some kind of nervous system drug,” Harad said tersely to the medics. He showed them the spot. “I think she was poisoned.” His gut instinct was to keep the woman away from his people and their secrets.

With the siren wailing, the ambulance pulled away from the airport, and Harad waited for airport security. He would have to make a statement before he left. To do otherwise would draw attention to himself, and right now, he didn’t want any governmental scrutiny of Dukhan Enterprises.

“Omar, I’m going to kick your butt when I finally find you,” Harad vowed, thinking of his younger brother. It was then he noticed the black cat. He had his own black feline, Tut. And there were thousands of black cats in Alexandria. This one was distinctive, though. It looked exactly like the cat that had been involved with his brother and the female anthropologist.

“Familiar?” He walked toward the feline. This was the cat who’d saved his brother’s fiancée, Beth Bradshaw. It was because of Omar and Beth that Harad now found himself in the middle of police scrutiny.

“Meow.” The cat came toward him, black tail straight in the air, tip twitching. “Meow.” Familiar’s golden gaze was unblinking.

“My brother insists you are an extraordinary creature,” Harad said, sighing. “I’m sure your presence here has something to do with Ms. Corbet.”

“Meow.”

Harad bent down to stroke the cat, when he heard his name called.

“Mr. Dukhan, would you come with us?”

Harad followed the two airport security guards through the concourse to the plush office where he would be given hot tea and a cigar, if he wished. To his amusement, he saw that the black cat was following right on his heels. Well, Familiar would be an interesting distraction.

AMELIA OPENED her eyes and then closed them again. Everything in the room seemed to spin around her, and she felt her stomach revolt against the sensation.

“Well, the patient has regained consciousness,” an unfamiliar female voice said with a hint of excitement.

Opening one eye a slit, she finally focused on a redhead who was sitting in a chair beside the bed.

“Who are you?” Amelia asked. She had a vague memory of a very handsome man, dark and somehow foreboding. He’d held her in his arms. She could remember the extraordinary fabric of his suit, the smell of his cologne, the sense of some exotic danger.

“I’m Mauve, Beth’s associate. Beth asked me to meet you in the airport, but as I was going inside, someone stole my purse. I ran after the man, but I lost him in the crowd. So, I was a little late. Looks like you had a welcoming committee of your own.”

The words seemed to ping against Amelia’s forehead, but she managed to grasp their meaning. “There was a man…”

“Harad Dukhan. The police are questioning him now,” Mauve supplied. “He’s a looker, isn’t he?”

“What happened to me?” Amelia wasn’t in the mood to discuss Harad’s appearance. She was annoyed that she even remembered what he looked like. She’d sworn off men.

“Someone injected something into your neck. Didn’t you feel a pinprick or another sharp sensation?” Mauve got up and leaned over Amelia. She brushed a hand over Amelia’s neck. “Right there.”

“Yes!” Amelia’s fingers explored the spot where she’d earlier felt the stinging sensation just as a man had stumbled into her in the airport. It had been deliberate. “What did he inject me with?” she asked.

“Some type of plant poison. The doctor said the name, but plants aren’t my area of expertise. At any rate, the antidote worked. He said you should be feeling better in an hour or so.”

“And this Harad Dukhan. What about him?”

“Soon to be your brother-in-law,” Mauve said breezily. “If you prefer the desert type, which your sister obviously does, Omar’s the poster child for handsomest man of the year. I, personally, like that tailored, well-groomed, reeking-of-money-and-success aura that Harad projects. What about you?”

“There’s not a man breathing who could interest me right now,” Amelia said. She meant every word of it.

Mauve’s eyebrows arched. “That’s tempting fate, girl,” she said brightly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that fate always seems to throw exactly what we don’t want right into the middle of our path.”

“I want to see my sister,” Amelia said, suddenly overcome with worry. “Is she hurt or sick or in some kind of danger?”

Mauve took Amelia’s hand and held it. “Beth was in a lot of trouble. Now your sister is safe and happy. Very happy. She’s going to marry Omar Dukhan.”

“What?” Amelia tried to push herself up in bed, but what felt like a sledgehammer slamming into her skull stopped her. Moaning, she gently let her head rest back on the pillow.

“The doc said there would be some pain and dizziness,” Mauve told her. “He said it would go away in an hour or two. Any motion or bright light will set it off, though. He advised you to stay in bed and remain as still as possible. If you’re anything like Beth, though, I just wasted my breath.”

“I can’t move,” Amelia said between gritted teeth. “This man that Beth is marrying. What about him? Beth hasn’t been over here but a couple of weeks. How can she marry someone she’s only known for fourteen days? What does he do? Where are they? Can you bring me to them?”

She stopped her assault of questions only when she heard Mauve softly laughing at her. “What’s so funny?”

“You and Beth are so different, yet you’re so much alike. First let me say that Beth is doing exactly as she wants. She’s head over heels in love. Omar, though at first he was deceptive, seems to be a man of honor. And he loves your sister very much.”

“That all sounds fine. What does this character do for a living?”

Mauve hesitated. “That’s sort of hard to say. He’s a desert guide, and he has the most incredible Arabian stallion. I think he and his tribe…oh, yeah, he’s some kind of ruler of this tribe of nomads, and—”

“Wait just one minute.” Amelia kept her eyes shut tight as she tried not to move. “He’s a nomad?”

“Right,” Mauve said, and this time there was the first hint of doubt in her voice. “It’s not exactly like it sounds, Amelia. He’s very smart and well educated and—they’re going to be fine now that the bad guys are in jail and the orbus plant, which Omar and Harad’s family once used to predict the future, has been destroyed. Really, Beth was in danger when her co-workers and some financial backers were trying to use to her to get their hands on that plant.”

“Wait a minute!” Amelia ground her teeth. “Beth was looking for a lost city. At least, that’s what she said.”

“She was. The lost City of Con. Con was a female tribal ruler who had the gift of prophecy. It’s an inherited trait in the Dukhan family. But this plant, the orbus, played a vital role in bringing the dreams on. Omar and Harad’s mother, Aleta, saw that the plant would be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands, so she destroyed it. So now Beth is safe and she’ll live happily ever after with Omar. She wanted to hold the wedding until the Corbets could get here, but the full moon of July is the Moon of Con and the wedding had to take place then because of all the ‘mystical stuff’.”

Amelia wondered if she was still dreaming. Nothing Mauve was saying sounded in the least like her practical sister. “My sister is out in the desert somewhere living in a tent with a nomad chieftain and his orbus-taking family, surrounded by sand and camels, and you think it’s okay?” Amelia clipped her words as her head pounded.

“It’s what Beth loves,” Mauve said softly. “You’re different than she is, Amelia. You can’t judge her choices by what you would want.”

“My sister is in line for the top museum job in the Southwest. She would have a staff of two dozen archeologists and anthropologists to help her preserve the Oconowasee Indians, a culture she’s studied for the past ten years. She adores that people. She’s wanted that job since she was twelve years old. You can’t tell me that she’d rather ride across the desert on the back of a camel, playing harem girl to some sheik.”

“Amelia, I think—”

“As soon as I can get up from here, you’re going to take me to Beth.”

“Of course,” Mauve said, and there was a strange tone to her voice. “I think you should know—”

“And once I get my hands on this desert Don Juan, he’s going to rethink his kidnapping ways. My sister is an innocent in the ways of men, but I’m not. Heck, how many wives does this sheik have already?”

“My brother has not yet taken a wife. When he does, he will marry only one woman.” The male voice was smooth, silky and edged with steel. “Perhaps your sister would be better served if you left your cartoon ideas about my country behind you.”

Amelia knew that to open her eyes would bring pain, but she opened them nonetheless. The pounding started right behind her lids, and it wasn’t helped at all by the hot flush of blood that suffused her cheeks. Her words had been rash and angry, and unfair.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, staring at the man who’d helped her in the airport. She’d begun to believe that she might have imagined him, but there he stood, more than six feet tall, broad shoulders and slim hips, all encased in an Armani suit the color of desert sand. It did everything to show off his natural olive complexion and the glint of his dark brown eyes.

“I tried to give you a heads up,” Mauve said smugly, “but you wouldn’t let me get a word in edge-wise.”

“Beth would tell you it’s one of my worst character flaws,” Amelia said. “I’m sorry.” She continued to look at the handsome man, who felt no need to hide his irritation with her. “I owe you an apology also. And your brother. You’re right, I don’t know him.”

Harad Dukhan nodded. A change shifted over his face, seemingly as if he willed his anger to dissipate. He stepped closer to the bed. “I’ve spoken with the doctor. You were deliberately poisoned, Ms. Corbet. The dose was probably not meant to be fatal. For some reason, someone wanted you immobilized in the airport. Can you think why that would be so?”

Amelia watched Harad Dukhan very closely as he spoke. He was trying hard to be casual, but there was a tension to the man that told her he felt otherwise. She wasn’t a scientist, and she hadn’t spent the last ten years studying ancient ruins, but she was a damn good judge of human nature, and Harad Dukhan was hiding something.

“I never carry cash or jewels. I brought one bag with a few clothes.” She started to shake her head, but the motion made her head pound harder. “No one even knew I was coming here,” she finally said. “I left without notifying anyone in my office. I’d hoped to see Beth, make sure she was okay and get on to Paris before anyone even noticed I’d dropped out of sight for a night.”

“Someone noticed,” Harad said.

“Is my sister safe?” Amelia asked.

Harad nodded. “As safe as she can possibly be. My brother would give his life to protect her, and he’s a fierce warrior when it comes to the people and things he loves.”

“I have to see her. As soon as possible,” Amelia said.

“We can discuss it,” Harad said, “when you are fully recovered.”

Chapter Two

Harad wanted only to close his eyes, open them, and find that he was not in a hospital room with the blond, willful and very American Amelia Corbet. Though she was one of the most attractive women he’d ever seen—and he’d made it a point to see a lot of women—she was opinionated, bossy and without the first hint of manners. So many women, when they stepped into the business world, lost their femininity. Amelia Corbet would walk over a man and never even look back to see if her spiked heels had left holes in the body.

Because of his brother, Harad knew Amelia was his responsibility until he could get her out of Egypt and on her way to wherever it was that she did her jet-set business. Which would be as soon as possible. He did not trust her—especially with the secrets of his people.

“How long before the doctor will release you?” he asked, forcing his voice to a level of politeness.

Mauve jumped in with the answer. “The doctor said he would come by before dinner. If Amelia’s health checks out, she can leave right after that,” she said.

Harad glanced down at his wristwatch. Maybe half an hour, but it would be the next day before she could catch a flight out. “I’ll book a room for you in the Abbula Hotel,” he offered. “And for you, Mauve. I know you’ve been at the Crescent, but I’d like you to be near Amelia if you don’t mind. The Abbula is a comfortable blend of my culture and your own, Ms. Corbet. Perhaps you won’t feel so much that you’ve been dropped in the middle of barbarians.”

He saw the flush creep over her cheeks once again and felt a dart of shame at his own conduct. At least Amelia had the upbringing to be ashamed of herself. And she had apologized. Now he had been the one to show rudeness.

“That would be lovely, Mr. Dukhan,” Amelia said with perfect grace. “But it isn’t necessary. I’m sure that I can manage in Alexandria as well as I can in any other international city.”

There was just enough challenge in her voice to make Harad smile. She was a woman of spirit, a trait he admired in both men and women. “My offer was not meant to imply that you needed assistance, only that I would like to extend the courtesy. Your first impression of my country could not possibly be favorable. I assure you that most visitors aren’t accosted in the airport. While you are here, I want you to see the best of what Alexandria has to offer.”

He could see that Amelia wasn’t fooled one little bit, but she nodded and thanked him sweetly.

A tap at the door signaled the arrival of the doctor. Mauve greeted the white-coated gentleman like an old friend, and Harad remembered that the redhead had been poisoned, too. Someone had put something in her coffee and Dr. Rashad had taken care of her—with some help from Omar. In fact, Beth Bradshaw’s entire quest to find the lost City of Con had been fraught with dangerous incidents. But Omar, Harad, Beth and the uncanny black feline, Familiar, had rounded up the men responsible for trying to injure Beth and to steal her research. Those men were behind bars.

So why had someone attacked Amelia? The question niggled in the back of his brain as he started to make his excuses and step from the room to allow the doctor time to examine Amelia.

Another tap at the door halted him. It swung wide to reveal a tall man with broad shoulders and a long stride who stepped immediately to Amelia’s side. He carried a clipboard, and his dark eyes were solemn as they examined Amelia.

“Ms. Corbet, this is Dr. Mosheen.” Dr. Rashad made the introductions. “He specializes in poisons.”

“Kaffar Mosheen,” the man said, stepping slightly in front of Harad as he took Amelia’s hand. He kissed it in a smooth, continental gesture.

“Dr. Mosheen is a botanist as well as a doctor,” Dr. Rashad explained. “He provided the antidote for you, and he’s expressed a personal interest in your case. He asked to meet you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Amelia said, turning to the taller doctor. “Thank you, Dr. Mosheen. I was very sick, but I’m feeling much better now.”

Harad felt his jaw muscles twitch at the way Amelia was smiling up into the doctor’s eyes. She was looking at him as if he had descended from heaven.

“The poison was very interesting,” Dr. Mosheen said. He leaned toward Amelia and unerringly bent to examine her neck. “The point of injection was fortunate. It missed the arteries. It is my guess that your assailant had a small ring that would spring open and reveal a tiny needle. The needle had been dipped in the poison, which is not normally lethal. My supposition is that the incident was intended to make you very sick and dizzy. You were spared much of the discomfort thanks to your friend, who acted so quickly and called an ambulance. My curiosity is aroused, though. It is a very old poison not commonly used against humans.”

“You’re making us feel better and better,” Mauve said with a hint of sarcasm. “Next you’ll tell us that the poison is the weapon of choice of either a satanic cult or a terrorist group bent on killing all Americans.”

Dr. Mosheen laughed softly, but his eyes remained serious. “Not quite so dramatic. The poison comes from a common plant, therefore many people could have knowledge of its use. In a very diluted form it’s used to spray cotton plants to kill insects.” He shrugged. “It would not be difficult to find. An attack of this sort is not the style of a terrorist group. More likely the attacker was a common thief who targeted Ms. Corbet as a wealthy American traveler.”

“I’m sure you’ve informed the police of all this,” Harad cut in.

He saw Amelia’s eyebrows lift slightly, and he knew his tone had been curt.

“Yes, the authorities are informed,” Dr. Mosheen said smoothly. “They will want to question Ms. Corbet tomorrow, when she is completely recovered. I will send them to your hotel—”

“I’ll make sure she gets to the police department,” Harad said. “Can Ms. Corbet leave now?” He addressed the question to the older doctor.

“Yes,” Dr. Rashad said. “She must be watched, though.”

Kaffar Mosheen seemed oblivious to Harad’s terse behavior. He turned back to Amelia. “If you are staying in Alexandria, I’d very much like to talk with you about the sensations of the drug—and that interesting pendant you’re wearing.” He reached into the pocket of his white coat and pulled out a business card and pressed it gently into Amelia’s hand. “Please call me if you find you have a free hour. It would greatly help my research.”

“Yes, thank you, Doctor.” Amelia took the card.

Both doctors left the room, already talking about another case. Harad found himself standing at the door, feeling completely out of place. It wasn’t an emotion he’d felt often, and he distinctly disliked it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Amelia said, “I’ll dress with Mauve’s help.”

Harad nodded and stepped outside the door without a word. He took up his position in the hallway, waiting for the women. Amelia was a burden transferred from his brother’s back to his own. So why had he gotten so irritated at the way Dr. Mosheen had been coming on to her? And it had been a come-on. Research! Bah! The doctor recognized a beautiful woman when he saw one, and he was not so wrapped up in his research that he wasn’t interested in making a move on the American.

AMELIA GRINNED as she looked into Mauve’s dancing eyes. “Well, that was interesting.”

“It would appear Mr. Dukhan has a personal stake in what you do, and with whom.” Mauve’s grin was delighted.

“Wrong,” Amelia said. “I don’t let men boss me around. Especially not men I don’t know. Most especially not a man with an attitude.”

Mauve reached under the hospital bed and pulled out Amelia’s suitcase. She lifted it to the bed as Amelia swung her legs out from under the sheets and gingerly stood, fighting a wave of dizziness as she clutched at the hospital gown. “These things ought to be banned,” she said. “They’re hideous. I wonder what happened to my clothes.”

Mauve shrugged. “They took you into the emergency room, and when you came out you were in this hospital getup. I can go check if you’d like.”

Amelia shook her head. “Let it go. I just want to get out of here.” Reaching for the suitcase, she started to unzip it, when she found a long slash in the leather. “Look at this,” she said, calling Mauve’s attention to the cut.

“When did that happen?” Mauve asked, fingering the slash that gave access to the interior of the bag. “Maybe it got caught on a machine in the baggage department.”

“I didn’t check the case at baggage. It was with me the entire time. I don’t know when it could have gotten cut like that…” She looked at Mauve. “The man that poisoned me, he must have cut the bag. That’s the only time anyone got close enough to do it.”

She thought back to the incident. It had to have been the man who’d poisoned her. Reaching into her bag, she got clean clothes and quickly dressed in a silk sheath and sandals. Just as the doctor had predicted, she was feeling better and better.

“If getting your bag was the goal, then the man had a reason to poison you,” Mauve said. “What did he think you were carrying in it? Money? Jewels?” She looked pointedly at the gold scarab on Amelia’s neck. “Sometimes it isn’t wise to wear expensive jewelry when you travel.”

“Beth told me to wear this necklace. I thought it was so that you could identify me.”

“As if I could miss you after listening to Beth talk about you for months on end,” Mauve said, making a mock face. “Beth told you to wear the necklace?”

“When she sent it, the note said to wear it.” Her fingers went to the scarab. “What kind of bug is it?”

Mauve rolled her eyes. “Jeez, Amelia. It’s the beetle of the tombs. It’s sort of the scavenger bug.” She hesitated. “It feeds off the bodies.”

Amelia’s hand dropped the pendant. “Beth never had that kind of sense of humor.”

“It’s an expensive piece. The gold looks pure and the craftsmanship is exquisite.”

“Maybe so, but it isn’t exactly the kind of gift Beth would normally send to me.” Amelia’s long fingers went back to the pendant. She was troubled by the scarab and what it might represent. Had Beth been trying to send some kind of message? The best thing to do would be to find Beth and ask her in person. Her sister was a lot more important than even the premier French-perfume account.

“Ready?” Mauve asked.

“Yes.” Amelia took a deep breath. “I suppose we’re going to have to allow Mr. Dukhan to take us to the hotel he’s selected for us.”

“Don’t make it sound like such a sacrifice. The Abbula is a wonderful old hotel. Expensive, I might add. And as for Harad Dukhan, I think I could easily take a few orders from him.”

Amelia laughed despite herself. “He is rather good-looking,” she admitted.

“That, my dear, is the understatement of the year.”

“Okay, he’s drop-dead gorgeous,” Amelia conceded. “But just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean he’s a nice man.”

“Now that sounds like your sister, Beth. The old ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ routine. Honestly, if I’m going to be bamboozled by a man, I’d just prefer it to be a handsome, virile hunk, like Harad.”

“You have a point,” Amelia said, lifting her suitcase. “Let’s continue with the bamboozling and see where it gets us.”

“Hey, if you decide on Harad, maybe you could point that doctor in my direction. He wasn’t hard to look at, either.”

“Somehow, Mauve, I don’t think you need any help in the men department.” Amelia opened the door to find Harad standing only three feet away.

“Ladies,” he said, walking into the room to lift the suitcase. He gave the slashed leather a long look.

“Amelia thinks it was the man who stuck her in the neck,” Mauve supplied. “Probably a thief.”

“An unsuccessful one,” Amelia added. She walked out of the room, aware of Harad’s gaze on her. Despite herself, she felt a shiver rush over her skin. He made her very aware that she was a woman.

HARAD CHOSE a table in the corner of the restaurant where he could watch the lobby. He’d reserved rooms for both Mauve and Amelia and they had gone to refresh themselves. First thing tomorrow, when he was sure Amelia was okay, he’d get her a flight out of town. He sipped a glass of wine as he tried to decide what to do with the two women for the remainder of the evening.

On the off chance that there was a night flight, he’d had his secretary check the airlines. If he could only reassure the blonde that Beth was okay, Amelia could be on a plane to Paris at ten in the morning. That was the scenario he preferred. No good could come of her visiting the lost City of Con. She was a danger to herself and others. Once she was airborne, he was relieved of all obligations to keep her safe. She could come back to visit at a better time.

He felt something under the table and reached down to stroke the black cat that twined through his legs. The last time he’d seen Familiar, the cat had been in the airport. Now he was at the Abbula. After listening to Omar and Beth talk about the cat, nothing about Familiar surprised Harad.

“Meow.” Familiar hopped onto the chair beside Harad and looked pointedly at the dish of fresh butter.

“Lucky this is Egypt,” Harad said as he buttered a piece of warm bread for the cat. “I don’t think restaurants in America allow feline guests.”

With great finesse, Familiar took the bread from his fingers. Harad was so engrossed in Familiar that he didn’t notice the tall, slender woman who walked quietly up to the table.

“What is it with cats and Egyptians?”

Startled, Harad looked up to find Amelia watching him with humor.

“We honor the feline,” he said, buttering another piece of bread and handing it to the cat. “Especially this feline. He played a large role in preventing injury to Beth.” He could see that Amelia was both intrigued and a little skeptical. “Would you and Mauve care to have dinner with me? I’ll fill you in on the details.”

She hesitated, then gracefully sat in a chair opposite him. “Mauve is doing some vital work on a computer tonight and I get the feeling you’re guarding me,” she said as she settled a napkin onto her lap.

“I promised my brother that I would make sure you were safe.” Another question popped out of his mouth, surprising him as much as her. “Does it bother you?” He signaled the waiter to bring another glass of wine.

Amelia quit playing with her napkin and looked directly into his eyes. “Yes and no.”

When she didn’t continue, he pressed. “Is there an explanation that comes with that answer?”

“I’ve fought a long time to be considered independent in a very tough business. For me to do my job effectively, I can’t afford for anyone to look at me as someone who needs protection or to be cared for in any way.” She spoke slowly, as if she was exploring her feelings as she went. “That’s the yes part. The no part is that I have to admit, it is rather nice to know that someone cares what happens to me, even if it is someone who’s obligated to care because of his brother.”

Her smile took the sting out of her last words, and Harad found that he was smiling back at her. “Our siblings have woven an interesting web around us,” he said. “You’ve come to protect your sister, who I might add seems completely capable of taking care of herself. And I’m here because of my brother. Soon you’ll be safely on your way home. Perhaps we can simply let it go at that and enjoy dinner. I highly recommend the sea bass.”

Amelia pushed her unopened menu aside. “Seeing as how you’re my protector for the evening, I’ll have the sea bass. By the way, my rooms are lovely. This is a wonderful old hotel.” She leaned toward him, “Even if they do allow cats to dine in the restaurant.”

Harad was captured by her warm smile and the hint of cleavage that was revealed by her forward movement. She wore a coral dress that fell smoothly over her slender figure. With her blond hair pulled casually into a bun, she was the perfect image of sophistication and poise. Yet there was a twinkle in her blue eyes that promised humor and mischief.

The waiter came to the table and Harad was about to order, when Familiar put a paw on the menu beside him.

“Meow!”

It was a demand not a request.

“I believe we’ll have three sea bass,” Harad said without blinking. “And a saucer of heavy cream.”

AMELIA LEANED her wrists on the edge of the table to keep her hands still as Harad told her about her sister’s involvement with criminals intent on using the ancient plant called the orbus to produce a potent drug that might give them an unfair advantage in controlling global events.

“I believe their goal was to use the drug to predict the future for political and financial gain,” he said. “But Beth and Omar figured out that several of Beth’s associates were involved in the plot. The criminals are in jail,” he concluded.

“Beth was almost killed?” Amelia knew she sounded breathless. “When I got the packet she sent me, I knew something was wrong. But I never dreamed she was on the verge of being murdered.”

“My younger brother is a very capable man. He’ll see to it that Beth is safe now.”

“Then all of the criminals were captured?”

Harad hesitated. “The man who backed Beth’s expedition, Nazar Bettina, could not be found. The authorities have discovered that no such man ever existed. We believe that John Gilmore, one of the scientists in Beth’s employ, created the identity of Bettina to hide a cabal of wealthy Americans.”

“And those men will go unpunished?” Amelia didn’t try to hide her disappointment.

“I hope not,” Harad said. “But it is now between your government and mine. Mr. Gilmore will be strongly pressured to reveal the names, which so far he has refused to do. He claims he doesn’t know who Nazar Bettina really is.”

“Is my sister safe?” Amelia asked.

“She’s very safe. Though Mr. Gilmore has so far refused to cooperate, the men who stood to gain from his deeds no longer have anything to gain. The plant that they sought has long been extinct. There is no longer an interest in your sister’s explorations.”

“I’m still worried about her.” Amelia’s hand caught at the scarab pendant. “She sent a note that said I should get to Alexandria as quickly as possible and to bring some photographs. Then I received this pendant so I would be recognized by the people who would meet me.”

“I knew nothing of the pendant,” Harad said, his gaze taking in the piece. “Omar sent me to meet you at the airport to make sure you understood everything was fine. And it is. Beth is safe and happy. You have my word. There is no need for you to change your business appointments. Beth’s only regret was there wasn’t time to get you to the wedding.”

“I’d give anything to be there, but Beth’s happiness is all that’s important.” Amelia said. She couldn’t help but notice Harad’s hands. The fingers were long and tapered, and he used them with great eloquence as he talked. What would it be like to feel those fingers on her flesh? The thought was so erotic that she looked down at her plate. “And this lost city that she was searching for, will she ever find it?”

Harad shrugged. “That’s between Omar and Beth. They must weigh the future.”

It was a diplomatic answer and gave Amelia time to compose herself and frame another question. “Why is it that Omar is head of your people? You’re the elder brother. Isn’t it traditional for that role to go to the oldest son?”

“Or daughter, in the case of my people.” Harad refilled her wineglass. “With my people, the gift of prophecy was passed from mother to daughter. A female child was the greatest blessing of the gods.” He gave a wry smile. “I suppose you could say that I’ve grown up in a reverse culture.”

“That would be fascinating to experience,” Amelia said. “But you didn’t answer my question. It was a good dodge, but not good enough.”

Harad laughed out loud, and Amelia found that she took great pleasure in his laughter. It had been a long, long time since she’d spent such an enjoyable evening.

“I wanted something other than the desert life. Omar loves the horses. He enjoys the sun and the restless nature of a nomadic tribe. He is also the keeper of the faith, and I’m not mocking him when I say that. Tradition, to him, is vital. To me, it is a hindrance. Once we both received our education in Paris I knew I would never return to the old way of life. I wanted to live in the city, to enjoy the luxuries that I could earn. He was the exact opposite. So I stepped aside and let the man best suited to rule take over. Instead of a desert leader, I studied architecture and then put together my own development company.”

Amelia played with the remains of her fish as Harad talked, but she was watching him closely. Though he was adept at casual talk, he didn’t back away from revealing personal truths. In many ways, he was far more open about his feelings than anyone she’d met in ages. He was a fascinating and compelling man.

“You seem lost in thought, Ms. Corbet,” he said, teasing her gently. “Are you envisioning me astride a camel in the middle of sand?”

Amelia shook her head. “Quite the contrary. I can more easily see you on a Paris street or at an Austrian business table. If I were staying longer, I’d like to see some of the buildings you’ve developed.”

“My secretary did check on a flight to Paris for you,” Harad said, reaching into his coat pocket to bring out the information. “The first flight is at ten in the morning. I took the liberty of booking a ticket for you. You’ll arrive in Paris in the evening. A car will be waiting for you there.”

Amelia arched her eyebrows. Everything had been going perfectly fine, until this. Harad had presumed too much. The one thing she simply couldn’t abide was being treated as if she was six years old. “Since I’m so close to Beth, I want to see her, even if I miss the wedding. I want to meet Omar.” She didn’t try to hide the implication of her last sentence. She wasn’t leaving until she’d met Beth’s husband.

Harad’s features froze, then he recovered quickly. “Beth and Omar are deep in the desert by now. It would be a long and arduous journey. You would do better to return for a real visit in a few months.”

“You could find a guide for me. Someone who could take me to them.” She found that his resistance to the idea only made her more determined.

“I’m not sure that’s a wise decision.”

“But it is my decision.”

Harad folded his napkin and placed it carefully on the table. He slipped several banknotes from his wallet and left them in the leather case that contained the bill. “I highly recommend you reconsider.”

Amelia folded her napkin and stood also. The black cat, who’d been busy eating until then, looked from one to the other.

“Meow.”

“Will you provide me with a guide?” she asked.

“It would be difficult to find a seasoned guide for such a long journey on such short notice. Ms. Corbet, you must plan on being in the desert for at least two weeks. Such a trip requires tremendous preparation.”

“I’m sure the concierge can help me arrange it,” Amelia said. A deep flush had darkened Harad’s cheeks, and his brown eyes were flecked with golden chips of anger. For a split second, Amelia regretted her rashness. She wasn’t at all certain the concierge could arrange anything.

“Ms. Corbet, you’re on your own. I’m afraid I can’t help you. I can only wish you good luck.” He bowed with a quick, efficient motion and walked away from her.

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.

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