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Last time she’d checked, Djeva was a free country. Or maybe not. Honestly, she felt so delirious she didn’t care anymore.
The imperious man across from her looked more annoyed by the second. The fact he also looked like he’d walked straight out of her wickedest Arabian Nights fantasies didn’t help either. Tall, dark, well-muscled beneath those flowing white robes of his—God. Laura swallowed hard and looked away. This was ridiculous. She needed to keep it together if she had any hope of getting back to her boss and her hotel anytime soon.
“I’m waiting,” the man said, his golden gaze narrowed. “Who are you and why have you trespassed here?”
“Trespassed?” Laura managed to creak out of her dry throat. She coughed and the man cocked his head toward one of the guards. A water bottle was handed to her and she drank half of it in one long gulp. Never had water tasted so good in her life. Afterward, she wiped the moisture off her chin and gazed around, heat prickling up her sunburned cheeks as she realized every eye in the room was watching her. Right. Diplomacy might be a better tack than snark in this situation. She cleared her throat and started again, struggling to keep her tone calm this time. “Um, I’m sorry. Can you please tell me exactly where I am again? I’m afraid I’ve gotten lost.”
Another guard stepped forward and held out her camera. Laura’s hopes soared. She’d thought she’d lost it in the desert and her production company would not have been happy. It was the latest model with all the fancy bells and whistles.
“We found this near where she was located, sir,” the guard said, handing the camera over.
The robe-bedecked man held it aloft by the strap with one finger, looking at it—then Laura—with the same level of distaste most people reserved for something icky stuck to the bottom of their shoe.
“Explain. Now.”
She blinked at his commanding tone. Laura couldn’t remember the last time someone had tried to intimidate her like this. Grade school perhaps? What she did know was that it hadn’t worked out well for the bully. She’d never taken well to being ordered about and she wasn’t going to start now.
Diplomacy vanished in the face of her rising temper. Laura squared her shoulders and stepped forward, her index finger pointed directly at the center of the man’s chest as her gaze narrowed.
“Look, buddy. I don’t know who you think you are or where you get off ordering people around like cattle, but I’m not having it, understand?” Gasps issued from the others in the tent and a guard attempted to grab her again, but she shook him off, keeping her attention focused on Sultan Bossypants in front of her. “And for your information, I was not out here trying to spy on you. I was out here for my job, trying to find this sand dune location for my boss so I don’t get fired. The camera was to take pictures for our locations team to use in pre-production. That’s it. Hate to break it to you,” she said, snatching back her camera. “but I don’t know who you are, nor do I care. All I want is to get back to my vehicle and get the hell out of this miserable desert.”
Silence reigned as she finished her impassioned speech and for a stomach-churning second, Laura feared she’d gone too far. She never talked back. She was always the smiling, helpful, affable one. Everyone said so. Her job performance evaluations were always stellar. People loved working with her. Helping people and seeking beauty were her main goals in life.
From the astonished, stony stare the Arabian hottie was giving her now, he found her tirade neither pretty nor helpful. Panic rose inside her, quickening her pulse and causing a cold sweat to break out on her heated skin. Did they still do beheadings in Djeva? If so, she’d most likely be losing hers momentarily. She took a step back and bumped into one of her guards, the sickening realization growing that she was trapped. No escape. Not now. She’d been warned by all those travel logs and YouTube videos she’d watched on the plane ride over here that men in Djavian society had a serious case of Alpha Male syndrome. Here, men were considered the leaders, the doers, the achievers, while women generally took a more submissive, supporting role. They weren’t as strict as some Middle Eastern countries, but there were still consequences for going against a powerful man’s direct orders. Or speaking up to him like she had.
Oh, God. I’m so dead.
Then the most alarming thing of all happened.
He laughed.
Mr. Gorgeous and Glowering cracked up and damn if that smile didn’t transform him from being merely handsome to the most beautiful man Laura had ever seen. She couldn’t look away as the deep, rich sound of his chuckles filled the air inside the tent. With his good humor, the fog of tension evaporated and the guards around her visibly relaxed. The others soon went back to their duties, leaving only Laura, the robed man, and the guard behind her standing in the middle of the room.
Finally, he stopped laughing and bowed slightly to Laura, his golden gaze catching hers and inciting a strange tingle throughout her nervous system. “Please excuse my rudeness. I am Sheikh Raheem bin Haik al Nazrani. You have wandered into a private family gathering of mine, Miss…?”
She was so stunned by the sudden change in him that it took her a moment to realize he’d asked her a question. “Uh, oh. Sorry. Laura Bliss. I’m here with Fierce Flea Productions, scouting locations for the upcoming film shoot.”
“Right.” The sheikh took her hand in his and tiny sparks of awareness sizzled up her arm from the point of contact. “I remember my brother Feraz mentioning a movie being shot here this summer. I did not realize that production would begin so soon, or that their crew would be so lovely.”
Her heart stumbled at that. Given that most of the time she ran around in jeans, T-shirts, no makeup, and hair twisted up in a messy knot, Laura wasn’t used to handsome men noticing her, let alone calling her lovely. Still, he seemed to be flirting with her and perhaps she could use his sudden goodwill to her advantage. After all, she’d still not found the exact place that her boss had tasked her with—some restricted area of untouched land near the northern border of the small country. Maybe this man could help her find the right channels to go through to secure the rights they needed to film there. And wouldn’t that just show her boss she was capable of great things? Hell, maybe she’d even get a promotion out of this whole mess in the end.
“An honor to meet you, Miss Bliss,” the sheikh said, releasing her hand at last. “I’m sorry to have reacted so badly at first seeing you, but my family has been under scrutiny by the paparazzi since my father’s death last year, and so we avoid the tabloids and their reporters as much as possible. I’m sure you can understand.”
“Yeah, sure. And please, call me Laura” The celebrities back home in California all seemed to have the same dim view of the media. Nothing new there. She didn’t know much about the power structure in Djeva, but a sheikh must have been like a minor celebrity here. “Are you famous then?”
He smiled that devastating smile again—all white teeth and charm—and Laura’s knees wobbled. “My family rules this country, so I suppose you could say that. And you must call me Raheem.”
Ruled the country? Yep. Definitely a celebrity then.
Laura felt like an idiot now for not recognizing who this man was immediately and for not treating him with honor, but it was too late now.
He bowed once more and gestured toward the entrance to the tent. “Please, won’t you accompany me to the family’s area of the camp. We have food and clean clothing and I’m sure we can find a phone for you to use to contact someone to retrieve you from this…what did you call it?”
Renewed heat charged up her cheeks at his raised brow. He was teasing her and damn if she didn’t like it. Way more than was wise, probably. Laura swallowed hard and glanced around once more at the guards in the tent. “I thought this was your camp.”
Raheem grinned. “This is only the security hub.”
He held open the flap of the tent for her. Outside, darkness had fallen and a warm breeze carried the scent of sand and the faint aroma of some exotic spice. After a deep breath, Laura followed him out, praying her evening would go a heck of a lot better than her afternoon.
