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much. One more thing. There are two letters outside my door. Would you make certain they are delivered?”

      “Certainly.”

      She hung up the phone, wishing the travel agency she’d called in Montreux would ring her back. They’d promised to arrange for helicopter transportation for her from Al-Shafeeq to El-Joktor and would phone her with the details.

      Lauren had come here with questions about her grandmother and the romance she had encountered with Malik. But now she had seen firsthand how captivating this desert kingdom was. She might not have answers to all her questions, but she knew one thing for sure. She needed to get away from the man who had captured her own heart; she needed to get away from Rafi.

      Rashad had just gotten off the phone with Farah when Nazir came to his suite with two envelopes and informed him Mademoiselle Viret wished to leave the palace in the morning. That didn’t surprise him.

      He told Nazir he’d take care of it. After he left, Rashad stood in the middle of his sitting room and opened the envelope addressed to his father first. After reading it, he turned to the one meant for him.

      Dear Rafi,

      Princess Farah said neither you or Dr. Tamam wanted payment for your actions during the sandstorm. I’m left with no choice but to simply thank you for saving my life. I’ll never forget you. Lauren.

      Her sentiment worked both ways. Rashad had wanted her so much tonight, he’d felt as though he was dying. He’d never known hunger like this before. It went beyond the physical to some other place, sending the same kind of shivers racing across his bronzed skin he’d felt when he’d picked her up in his arms the first time.

      That same chemistry had been instantaneous for her, too. He remembered the second she’d awakened to discover him holding her hand at the bedside. She hadn’t spoken for a long time. That was because a white-hot heat more blazing than the desert sun had enveloped them through no volition of their own. The harder they’d fought it, the more intense their desire had grown.

      Though he believed she had an agenda, no human could simulate the chemistry between them. Tonight those heavenly green eyes had seduced him, willing him to make love to her.

      Throughout his life he’d known temptation and had been able to withstand it because he was his father’s son and had a sacred duty to uphold. If he hadn’t been careful all these years, he would be dead by now. His father had trusted no one and neither did he, least of all this beautiful flesh-and-blood creature with flaxen hair and peridot eyes sent to weaken his defenses.

      And he knew she’d been sent.

      Tonight Farah had phoned and given him the proof. At first he’d thought she hadn’t told him anything that could help him. By the tone of Farah’s voice, Rashad thought Lauren had won his sister over completely. Just when he’d decided Farah hadn’t discovered anything that could help him, she’d mentioned the Garden of the Moon.

      That was the clue he’d been waiting for. Every alarm in Rashad’s hard body had gone off. He’d found a link to the medallion and was getting closer to an answer.

      Wasting no time, he’d phoned Mustafa who had sworn an oath he’d never said anything about the Garden of the Moon to Mademoiselle Viret. According to him, the foreigner had been unusually quiet and had appeared deep in thought throughout the entire journey.

      Rashad believed him.

      He finally went to bed, determined that over the next few days he would get a confession out of her, starting by giving her what she wanted first.

      “Good morning, mademoiselle. I’m Nazir.” The fortyish-looking man stood in the doorway wearing traditional Arab robes. He broke into a smile. “We spoke on the phone last night, but haven’t yet met. I’ve been instructed to accompany you to the western gate.”

      “Thank you for coming. Did you get the letters?”

      “Yes. They’ve been delivered.”

      So fast? “Excellent. Well, I’m ready.” She started to pick up her suitcases, but he said, “Leave them in here.”

      Lauren frowned. “Leave them? I don’t understand.”

      He spread his hands. “All will be explained if you will accompany me.”

      This meant Rafi had gotten her note and knew of her plans. As head of security, nothing went on in the palace he didn’t know about. “Very well.”

      Once out the door she followed Nazir along one corridor and down another she hadn’t seen before. The palace was like a small city. Eventually they came to a portico and he led her beyond it to a glorious garden of palms and desert plants growing outside the palace.

      Nazir made a gesture with his hands. “This way, please.”

      Several hundred yards off in the distance she spied a helicopter gleaming in the sun. She walked toward it, curious to know what was going on. Closer now she saw three men inside, one at the controls. Another one jumped down wearing tall leather boots.

      There was no mistaking Rafi in a khaki shirt and trousers. She didn’t like admitting it, but just seeing his burnished face and those strong hands on his hips in a totally male stance sent an explosion of excitement through her body. It wasn’t fair for one man to be that endowed. She’d hoped to put distance between them, but such wasn’t the case.

      “How are you this morning, Lauren?”

      “I’m fine, thank you.”

      “We’ll see.” He moved closer, pressing the back of his hand to her cheeks and forehead. After receiving her note, he could be excused for wondering why she’d made plans to leave the palace without telling him last night.

      His touch electrified her, never mind his black eyes that reduced her insides to pulp. “I—I don’t have a fever,” her voice faltered.

      “Let me be the judge of that,” came his answer in a smoky tone. He wasn’t talking about the state of her health. With a comment like that, Lauren wasn’t sure if her legs would hold her up.

      “Are you satisfied?”

      “I guess I’ll have to be,” he murmured. “If you’re still intent on visiting the site of the sandstorm, the king has put a pilot at your disposal.”

      Her debt to the king continued to grow, but of course it was Rafi who made things happen. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you last night. You’ve all done more than enough for me.”

      “It won’t take long. Have you flown in a helicopter before?”

      “Yes. Many times, in fact.”

      “Then let’s be off. Just remember we’re flying to the sun’s anvil. It’ll be 122 degrees Fahrenheit, if not more, so beware.”

      On that note he helped her inside. His hands rested on her hips longer than necessary before she climbed in the back and strapped herself in the seat. It was all she could do not to turn around and launch herself into his arms.

      The man next to her in Arab dress smiled at her. He had to have noticed what had transpired while Rafi was assisting her.

      This was madness. Shame over her desire for him drove her to keep her eyes trained on the desert. The rotors whined. When liftoff occurred, she didn’t once look ahead to where she’d be able to see the back of his head.

      Instead she stared out her window and watched as the palace and finally the small green settlement of the Oasis itself disappeared. It was almost frightening to see nothing but sand below, an entirely different perspective from the air than on the ground.

      They flew on into a world of nothing but undulating sand dunes forming their own fantastically shaped hills and valleys, untouched except for scorching sun and air. Out in this vast expanse, you had no sense of direction but for the sun which was almost at its zenith, denoting noon.

      The pilot knew where

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