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Chapter 12

Michelle sat on the balcony, staring out at the ocean. She had ordered room service but she had picked at the meal of chicken spiced and baked in a pastry. Letting out a long breath, she wondered if she should just shower and go to bed. But she had decision facing her.

She’d put in a call to her mother, and had gotten voice mail, so she’d sent a text and an email. Mother had texted back she was visiting a friend, and Michelle should handle everything—so the decision of what was all back on Michelle’s shoulders. On the one hand, the Zia oasis that Adilan had shown her today had easier access, it was bigger, and beautiful. On the other, Michelle wasn’t sure sandstorms sweeping in every now and then was all that great—and would Mother really be okay with a place other than Al-Hilah, or was she okay now and later she’d throw a fit. With Mother, you never knew.

Heading back into her room, Michelle pulled up her emails and studied the other problem she had.

She’d been corresponding with a number of construction companies in Al-Sarid—all she needed were final plans to get locked bids in. However, that meant she needed an architect and approved plans. And all that would change if she went for the land swap.

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nbsp; Now, two of the companies were backing out on even the idea of putting in a bid. She could bet that by tomorrow, it would be impossible for her to get anyone working for her—unless it was a company associated with the other powerful family in Al-Sarid, the Sharqi family. She didn’t have any contacts, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get them. They could probably smooth the project’s path—but if she went for the land swap, she wouldn’t need their help.

She also had to consider that the Sharqi family might not want to offend the Adjalane family—or maybe they wouldn’t care about that, and what if they wanted outrageous bribes? She’d budgeted for possible cost overruns, but not for having to pay corrupt officials.

And then there was Adilan’s brother to consider.

Obviously, Malid Adjalane didn’t want her keeping her mother’s property, and just as obviously he was out to best his brother. What would he do if she agreed to a swap? That would mean he’d lost to his brother, but would he take that out on her? On her project? Would she be swapping one set of blocks for yet another?

She rubbed at the tight line drawing her eyebrows together. This was turning out to be a bigger headache than she’d ever thought it would be, and she was almost tempted to head home and dump the whole thing in her mother’s lap. Or just take Adilan’s offer and head home. But if she did that she’d be breaking her promise to her mother—and she’d feel like more than a failure.

Propping her chin on her fist, she decided she didn’t have to solve all the problems tonight. She’d keep looking for a construction company that didn’t give a damn about the Adjalanes—there had to be one, maybe someone with foreign ties. She’d also start looking for an architect back in the States that could get her plans. But she still needed help getting government permits and approvals, which put her back to needing someone local to help her out.

Well, there was always the land swap—if she did that, maybe Adilan would be willing to help her. She frowned. She didn’t like that everything kept coming back to him—and what had she been thinking to have sex with him when she barely knew the guy.

But she knew what she’d been thinking—she’d been thinking that it was about time that she had something more than Alan’s dull company. Picking up her phone, she called Alan. He didn’t answer, and she hated breaking up with him like this, but she couldn’t see any other way. She left a short message for him, telling him she thought it was time they started seeing other people and stopped seeing each other. She tried to soften the blow—not with the standard ‘it’s not you, it’s me line’—by telling him she really hoped he’d find someone who was perfect for him.

Hanging up, she headed back to the balcony. A breeze came in off the ocean, warm and scented with kelp and salt. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face into the soft caresses. It reminded her of how Adilan had touched her face, how he’d kissed her—as if she really was beautiful. For the first time ever this afternoon, she’d felt like her mother’s daughter. But was she making the same mistakes her mother had made?

She shook her head. She wasn’t sure if her mother really had been in love Nimr Adjalane. She wasn’t sure if she was in love with Adilan, either. Sure he was one amazing hunk. He was also smart, sexy and an incredible lover. But over the years, Mother had dropped hints that pointed to the difficulties of a relationship with someone from a different culture—mother had fought with Nimr over how backwards Al-Sarid had been for women. Had times changed enough that Michelle wouldn’t have those same issues?

Maybe Nimr wanted the land he’d given to her mother not just to get it back, but because it had been their secret getaway. She tried to think about the Zia oasis, where she had Adilan had spent time. Would she come to love it if she kept seeing Adilan?

She straightened and stared at the moon rising over the ocean, casting a silver ray across the dark water.

The entire country of Al-Sarid really was magical—beautiful. It had to have a dozen or more fantastic spot for a sanctuary, not just for her mother but for others who needed healing. She’d be damned if she’d let a bunch of pushy guys take that away from her and her mother. One way or another, she was going to get her mother’s sanctuary built. Now she just had to figure out the strategy that would get that done.

***

Outside Michelle Reynolds hotel, Malid stood in the shadows, arms crossed and thinking hard. He’d been made aware earlier that Adilan had helped the woman pay the back taxes and fines he’d invented. That had been a good plan—but it had cost him a great deal in bribes to put it in place. He leaned against a wall, still warm from the day’s sun. He had underestimated Adilan. He also wished his father had never thought of making this stupid competition.

He was not that anxious to see the land returned to the family. Of course, the water could be useful, but he was afraid his father would want to enshrine the spot, keep it bare and useless all because of Deborah Reynolds, the woman his father had never truly forgiven or forgotten. Malid gave a snort. What nonsense. Property should be made useful, and if Al-Sarid was to become a strong country it needed an even stronger economy. That meant luxury resort that catered to the wealthy—a tourist economy that would bring money to Al-Sarid.

But Adilan was like his father—they were both sentimental. Malid had no time for romantic nonsense. Well, he was smarter than anyone else in his family. He would prove that to his father. He would once again beat Adilan. And he would see this American woman and her family out of the country and away from his kin—they’d had enough trouble from the Reynolds women.

Chapter 13

Nassir ducked another lunge punch and tried to sweep Adilan’s front leg out from under him. Adilan was ready for him. He kicked out, hitting Nassir in the hip. Nassir spun and kicked back, hitting Adilan in the center of his chest, sending him sprawling backwards across the mats.

He grinned. “You aren’t thinking of the fight, are you?”

Adilan pushed back to his feet. “If I get you on the ground, I’ll have you.”

“Yes, but first you must get me there.”

Adilan circled his brother. As the youngest in the family—and the shortest—it seemed to him he was always having to prove himself. But he had more muscle that Nassir—or Malid. And he had wrestling skills he had learned in college.

He and Nassir swapped more blows and kicks, and then Nassir held up his gloved hands. “Enough for today.” He headed to the edge of the ring, pulled off his gloves and grabbed a water. He tossed another bottle to Adilan. “You want to tell me why you’re off your game?”

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