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Slowly easing off him, she lay on her side, one hand on his chest. The sky overhead seemed impossibly blue. She let out a breath. “I’m not sure how I can ever let this place go. Your oasis, the Zia—don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely. But this place, Al-Hilah…it really is special.”
He took her hand and kissed her palm. “Then let us make it the paradise you wish it to be—I only ask you not spoil the natural beauty.”
She glanced at him and lifted up on one elbow. “Are you serious? You’d help me?”
“Tell me of your problems—is it like with Mr. Bishara?”
She twisted her mouth into an almost smile. “That times two. Not only do I not have an architect, meaning no plans and no approvals or permits, I also can’t find a construction company willing to do the work.”
He trailed a finger down her back, making her shiver. “Will you allow me to help you?”
She turned to look at him. “What happened to wanting to get the land back to your father?”
He thought for a moment. “Will you trust me?”
She didn’t know what to answer. She wanted to say yes, but she barely knew this man. She sat up and headed to the picnic basket. “I’m starving. Are you?” He’d tossed his pants over the basket, so she picked them up.
Photos fell out of his pocket. Bending over, she picked them up and saw herself naked at the Zia oasis. She turned to Adilan. “Okay—what the hell is this?”
Chapter 15
Adilan sat up. “I am hungry.”
Michelle came over and stood in front of him. She looked like some angry, female jinn with those blue eyes of hers almost shooting sparks, and her skin pale and gleaming in the sun. She smelled of sex and of the desert and he wanted her again.
One hand on her hip, the other holding out the photos, she said, “Let me guess—Malid. Is this what the fight was about? You two were fighting over me?”
“No, we fought over the photos. I won them back.” He waved a hand at his pants. “There is a flash drive, too. You may keep them all.”
She gave him a sideways look. “And what were you going to do with them? I can bet Malid planned some blackmail, but you? What were your plans?”
“Does it matter? Would you believe me?”
She knelt in the sand next to him. “Adilan, you don’t get it. I want to believe you. And you were the guy who turned his back. Besides, if you had someone taking photos, you could have gotten a lot juicer stuff inside the tent.” Her cheeks pinked as she spoke. “This is why you wanted to come here today instead, isn’t it?”
He put a hand over hers, covering the photos. “I ask again—will you trust me, Michelle?”
She looked at the photos and then at Adilan. A smile curved her lips. “I think it’s about time we put our families’ feud to rest, don’t you?”
***
The next three weeks passed with a whirlwind of activity for Michelle. She spent her days with Adilan at Al-Hilah, making plans. She still wasn’t certain there wasn’t some catch, but Adilan helped her find a new architect—one that specialized in low impact, green construction. His plans were brilliant for realizing building at the site that would be all with local artisans and traditional construction that would not only realize a sanctuary but preserve the natural beauty. They were shifting to mud construction with lime glazes that would blend into the mountains, keeping the oasis utterly pristine. The architect promised help getting permits cleared, and he would work with hiring local craftsmen to do the work.
She spent her nights with Adilan—with him showing her around Al-Sarid, going dancing or to dinner, or up in her hotel room with room service and heavenly nights in his arm.
It was starting to seem too good to be true—and it was.
The police arrived at Michelle’s hotel on the next Monday morning. She’d spend the night alone—the first since she and Adilan had been seeing each other. He had said he had to attend a family dinner at the palace. She’d been both relieved not to have to go, but also a little upset he hadn’t asked her to attend. She’d tried to tell herself that he just wanted to spare her the ordeal of a huge family dinner—but she had started to wonder if he was just a little ashamed of her.
He had no problems taking her places—to the beach, to the desert, or to nightclubs. They’d gone riding again on camels, and had visited several museums. But he had not bothered to introduce her to any of his friends—or his family. She told herself she was not his girlfriend—this was a fling for both of them. A romance. But she dreaded facing the idea that someday she would go home and Adilan would stay.
She was thinking of that as she stepped into the lobby and saw the police officers.
Her face went cold and she stopped just outside of the elevators. Two men in uniforms and one in an ill-fitting suit headed straight for her and panic settled into her chest. Had something happened to Adilan?
“Michelle Reynolds, you are under arrest for bribery of a government official.”
She blinked. Her face chilled and her voice cracked. “What are you talking about?”
