Midnight in Arabia: Heart of a Desert Warrior / The Sheikh's Last Gamble / The Sheikh's Jewel

“Tomorrow I will show you the baths in the caves,” Genevieve said. “I’m sure my grandson showed proper decorum and skipped that part of his tour with you.”

Iris didn’t know about proper decorum, but the older woman was right. “Asad didn’t mention any baths.”

She had to admit to a feeling of relief at the thought that the next few weeks would not be spent without a proper soak.

“There are natural hot springs in the caves to the south of the encampment,” Asad said now.

“The women use the upper caves and the men the lower ones. I suppose they think they can handle the hotter water better,” Genevieve said with a loving smile for her husband of several decades. “Hanif discovered them when he was a boy and gifted the caves to the tribe upon our wedding.”

It was a romantic story and Iris found herself smiling, as well.

“It just goes to show that for the thousands of years our people have wandered these lands, they remain a mystery to us,” Hanif said. He turned to Russell. “Mr. Green, you will join me for coffee in the morning with the other men, yes?”

“Russell, please,” her field assistant said with a grin. “And I would be honored. I’ve been eager to try the real thing ever since I learned we were coming to Kadar.”

“Ah, so you understand that what comes out of an automatic drip maker is nothing like it?” Asad asked sardonically with a look at Iris that said he wasn’t talking only of coffee.

“I’m willing to be convinced of it,” Russell said unsurprisingly. The man was a caffeine addict with a particular fondness for coffee.

If Asad had researched Russell, he couldn’t have made a better ploy to get him otherwise occupied in the mornings.

Somehow, regardless of her best efforts, Asad managed to accompany Iris on her trek to her room when it came time to find her bed later that evening.

Which said something about his efforts versus hers, she supposed. Or, perhaps it was the level of determination she should be looking at. The possibility that Asad’s might be stronger than hers in this regard was disturbing on more than one level.

She liked the idea that she might not be wholly dedicated to minimizing their contact no better than the thought that he was far more determined to spend time with her than he should be.

“So, what do you think of my city of tents?” he asked just as she reached her doorway and thought to slip inside without incident.

Her hand on the edge of the curtain that covered the entrance to her apartment, Iris stopped. “It’s amazing.”

“You do not find the remoteness too disconcerting?” he asked with a certain level of disbelief.

A wry smile curved her lips and she met his dark brown gaze squarely. “Asad, last month I spent two weeks in the middle of the East Texas desert doing an updated geological assessment for an oil company. The truth is, your nomadic home is more sophisticated and busy than ninety percent of my assignments.”

“Do you enjoy being away from home for such long periods?”

Prepared to give the answer she always offered when asked that question, she was surprised when honesty spilled forth instead. “At least when I’m on assignment, there’s a reason for me spending so much time alone.”

“Your work.”

“Yes.”

“It’s very important to you.”

“It’s all I have.” She looked around them, noticing his grandparents had already made it into their chamber down the long corridor that ran the width of the tent.

Nawar and Fadwa had gone to bed hours earlier. But still, the sense of family permeated the impressive dwelling.

“We’re not all like you, with relations who miss us when we’re gone,” she added in an even tone.

“Your parents are still living.”

“The last time I saw them was Christmas two years ago. We took a winter cruise together.” She’d bought it for them as a gift with hopes of building something more of their relationship now that she was an adult.

It hadn’t worked. They’d been no more interested in getting to know the grown-up Iris than they had the child. And as much as it hurt to admit, looking at them through adult eyes, she realized her parents were not people she would particularly care to know well, either.

She’d finally given up hope of having anything resembling a real family and hadn’t bothered them with so much as an email since. Though now she realized that she’d begun to give up that particular dream when Asad had left.

She simply hadn’t been aware of it until her parents’ continued indifference pounded the final nail into the coffin that had been her hope.

“Two years ago? But that is criminal. Why would you neglect your parents so shamefully?”

His absolute inability to understand charmed her when she thought probably she should have been offended. But to discover the worldly sheikh so naive in even one area was rather captivating.

“When was the last time you saw your parents?” she asked curiously.

“Last month.” He cocked his head to the side, studying her like a specimen under glass. “I travel to Geneva three times a year.”

So the decision to allow his grandparents to raise Asad, and groom him to take over as sheikh, had not destroyed their relationship completely. He might resent it somewhat, but he still cared for his parents and she was certain they cared for him, as well.

“Your family is happy to see you when you do, I imagine.”

“But naturally.”

She nodded. Lucky him. Even after the barbaric bargain, he had parents and siblings who loved him and wanted to see him. And probably a lot more often than the three times a year he went to see them. “For your family, yes. We aren’t all so lucky, Asad.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “In the ten months of our liaison, you never mentioned a visit from or to your parents. I assumed it was because you saw no reason to introduce me to your family.”

It was a reasonable hypothesis, considering the fact Asad himself had not been thinking in terms of a future together. He’d no doubt assumed that while he’d returned home on winter and spring break to see his family, she’d been doing the same. Instead, she’d spent those weeks by herself on campus missing him more than she ever had her parents.

He’d never made any move toward introducing her to anyone in his family and because of her past, she hadn’t found that odd. Only later had she realized that a man did not introduce his relatives to a casual lover. Particularly not a man slated to one day become sheikh.

Silly her. Iris had thought he was waiting for the right time when the truth was, there was never going to be any such thing for them.

“Once again, I guess we were both guilty of making assumptions.” She shook her head, tired and in no mood to prevaricate. “I don’t have a family, Asad. I had an egg and sperm donor who were kind enough to financially support me until I graduated from university.”

He jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “That is a very cynical thing to say about the people responsible for giving you life.”

“I don’t expect you to understand. Your parents allowed your grandparents to raise you in the ways of the Bedouin and while I’m sure you felt abandoned by them, no matter how much you might deny it, the truth is, they never gave you up. Not really. My parents kept legal rights to me, but for all intents and purposes, I was their unwanted ward, not their daughter.”

“And you called my grandparents’ deal with my parents barbaric,” he said in a tone laced with a heavy dose of shocked disapproval.

She just shook her head. He was right. She was in no position to judge and certainly Asad had far more of a family than she did. Though she noticed he didn’t deny feeling abandoned by his parents.

He frowned, looking like he wanted to say something more.

She put her hand up in a silent bid for him to leave it. “Like I said, I don’t expect you to get it. Why should you? I never did, and they were supposed to be my family. I’m tired and I want to go to bed. All right?”