Читать книгу Familiar Oasis - Caroline Burnes - Страница 11

Chapter One

Оглавление

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.”

Familiar Oasis

Подняться наверх