concerned about her. She didn’t appear to be her usual robust self. There had always been something luminous about Lucy, but now there was a fragility he hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps it was just lack of food—or dehydration, the climate change or jet lag—or perhaps the stress of coming to see him. Whatever—he could at least feed her.
His arrival in the kitchens caused quite a stir. He ordered a picnic to be packed immediately. However suspicious he was of Lucy’s motives, hospitality was the way in Isla de Sinnebar and that particular tradition insisted he attended to all of her needs before he sent her on her way.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SITTING by Razi’s side in an unmarked army Jeep, Lucy was filled with apprehension. He had dismissed the driver. The vehicle had been waiting for them with its engine running, at the back door of the Maktabi office building with her luggage already loaded in the back. Razi was wearing jeans, desert boots and a plain black top, with the sleeves cut off to accommodate his biceps and a pair of aviators concealing the expression in his astute green eyes. To a casual observer he would pass for any particularly good-looking government agent with an uneasy suspect at his side. ‘Are we going to the airport?’ she asked, dry-mouthed.
‘Soon.’
So, where were they going? Lucy wondered, her anxiety mounting as the Jeep swept away from the kerb. Her great idea lay in ashes. Telling Razi her wonderful news now would be akin to walking into the lion’s den and asking if the lion would like relish with his meal. She couldn’t do it. Her first priority had to be going home to England where she could consult a lawyer. ‘Is there another flight to the UK today?’
‘Not as far as I’m aware.’
She craned her neck to read a sign as Razi drove down a slip road onto the highway. ‘Where did you say we were going?’
‘I didn’t.’ As you very well know, his quick glance seemed to say. ‘We’re going into the desert.’
The desert? Her heart was thundering so violently she felt sick. Why couldn’t they have talked at the office as Razi had suggested? Because he didn’t want anyone to see him with her, Lucy concluded.
But he could have ordered someone to take her to the airport.
And had chosen not to.
Because he wouldn’t want any loose ends, she told herself sensibly, trying to calm down. Razi would never ask anyone to do something he believed was his duty; he took care of his own problems.
The highway cut through the desert, and at one time exploring that would have excited her, but the thought of travelling into such dangerous terrain with a man who could only wish she had never existed was a terrifying prospect.
Razi’s grim expression did nothing to allay Lucy’s fears. They sat in silence while he drove the same way he made love, with focus and a frightening degree of skill. ‘I thought you were joking about the desert,’ she said nervously as he took a turning off the highway.
‘I never joke,’ he said grimly.
Not these days. And now there was only the shimmering heat haze in front of them and the wilderness beyond.
When they arrived at their destination he had barely put the brake on before Lucy tumbled out of the Jeep. She gazed around in fear at what he realised must appear nothing more than featureless desert and mountainous dunes to her. ‘There’s more to come,’ he assured her, springing down to stand by her side.
She didn’t answer and the tension in her shoulders filled him with the urge to comfort her. He had forgotten how natural and unaffected she was, or that he hadn’t met anyone like her before or since. He made the effort to see things through her eyes and then he realised that what was familiar to him was strange and threatening to Lucy, and as she stumbled on the sand he leapt forward to steady her. ‘You’re trembling,’ he said, taking tighter hold of her. ‘You’ve no need to be frightened of me.’ He stared into her anxious eyes. ‘I come here all the time,’ he explained. ‘It’s quite safe. I thought it would be better for our talk than a sterile office building.’
‘It’s certainly more discreet,’ she observed shrewdly.
He had forgotten how perceptive she was too. ‘As soon as we’ve had our talk,’ he promised, ‘I’ll take you back.’
She looked at him as if to say she knew as well as he did that the time of her departure would depend on him just as her arrival had and that he held all the cards. ‘Lead on,’ she said, firming her jaw.
Something had changed. Lucy was stronger than when they’d first met …
Whatever it was he didn’t have long to find out.
Razi was a master of surprise. He’d sprung the first surprise at the door of his office where he’d been dressed in casual clothes and ready to leave, and now this drive into the wild interior. At first she thought there was nothing to see other than sand, but as Razi led the way up the shallow side of a dune and she saw the panorama on the other side she realised her dreams of a desert kingdom had been insipid stabs at conjuring the reality.
‘No comment?’ Razi demanded.
She was too stunned to speak. ‘It’s very beautiful,’ she said at last. This was a massive understatement. The brow of the dune was flat, allowing them to stand securely and look over the surrounding land. She was acutely aware of Razi at her side, sharing the moment as she gazed up into a metallic-blue sky streaked lemon and baby pink. There was a gash of neon-orange at the horizon and all the vivid colours of the dying sun were reflected on the surface of a glittering oasis, whose water was so clear she could see each tiny pebble on the sandy floor. Lush green palm trees provided a frame and there was even fruit hanging thickly amongst the fronds. But it was the pavilion on the bank of the oasis, with its ivory silk walls framed in indigo dusk, undulating lazily in the night-time breezes, that really held her attention. ‘Is that a traditional structure?’
‘It’s mine,’ he said, following her gaze.
‘It’s so romantic.’ She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth.
Razi remained silent, staring out across his desert kingdom. He moved down the dune and she followed him. He strode to the pavilion where he held the curtain aside for her to enter. As she dipped her head and brushed past him she was aware of his exotic scent, and as she walked deeper into the shaded interior she felt the heat of his stare on her back.
As she looked around he explained, ‘Everything you see here was produced in this country.’
It said something about a man who could take his pick from the world’s riches, and yet had furnished his desert retreat only with those items that carried a particular significance to him. Razi’s devotion to the Isla de Sinnebar couldn’t have been more starkly illustrated and she realised his trip to the mountains when they’d met had been one last indulgence before Razi returned to rule—and that her part in that trip had been nothing more than an entertainment for him.
‘What do you think?’ he said, interrupting these thoughts.
She brushed away the sadness and concentrated on her surroundings. ‘I think it’s magical,’ she said honestly. Everything was new and strange to her—she had everything to learn about his country. As she ran the palm of her hand over the fabric walls Razi explained that they were woven so
