Her desert knight(20)

"Like you?"

"I actually think I'm probably nicer than both of my brothers. They're a  little scary, at least when there's business involved. Both of my  sisters-in-law are lovely, though. They'll put you at ease."

"Even though they have no idea I'm coming! What if they're busy?"

"They're not. I know they're planning to spend the day relaxing on the beach with the kids. Everyone's on vacation right now."

"I'm not exactly dressed for the beach."

"Don't worry about that. They'll have everything you need in the hotel  shop. And don't try to pretend you wouldn't feel comfortable in a  swimsuit. I've seen your gorgeous body with my own eyes." The wolfish  look he gave her should have sent her fury into overdrive, but instead  it had the far more irritating effect of making her aroused.

"What if I don't want to meet your family?" His arrogance was almost  unbelievable. This whole escapade was further proof that he was all  wrong for her.

Quasar steered the car into a large circular driveway with a  spectacular fountain in the middle. She'd heard about this hotel before.  It was insanely expensive and very exclusive. It looked like a sultan's  palace. Further proof that Quasar Al Mansur was out of her league in  every possible way.

As well as being a total jerk.

He parked the car and took her hands in his. "Dani Hassan, I like you  very much. Getting to know you better is important to me, and I want you  to get to know me better as well. If you then decide that you hate me, I  can handle it." That familiar sparkle of amusement lit his eyes. His  hands warmed hers and softened the frigid wall of reserve she'd tried to  build around herself. "But please do me the honor of meeting my family.  It would mean a lot to me."

Her heart swelled when he spoke with such apparent sincerity. Of course  this was probably how he'd behaved with all those beautiful women in  the gossip column photos. But who was she to think she could resist him  any more than they could? If an A-list actress hadn't been able to say  no to Quasar, she didn't stand a chance. "Okay."

Before she could gather her thoughts, a bellhop-wearing a uniform the  exact same green as her own clothes-opened her door, and she stepped out  into the bright sunlight. Quasar immediately rounded the car and  threaded his arm though hers, as if hoping to forestall her escape. She  glanced around nervously. What if the family felt much more strongly  about the land dispute than Quasar, and considered her their enemy?

Even if they were friendly, what if one of her father's associates were  here? Or a neighbor? Or almost any ordinary citizen of Salalah who  might gossip at the souk about who they saw on Quasar Al Mansur's arm?

She tried to calm herself with the thought that she'd been in the  United States since she was a teen so people weren't likely to recognize  her. And most of the guests looked foreign, judging from their scanty  attire.

"They're probably still having breakfast. That's where they were headed  when I left them less than half an hour ago. Things tend to move very  slowly when the whole family is gathered together." He led the way into a  grand lobby with tall arches and rich mosaics on the walls, and through  it to a series of sunlit dining rooms. In the farthest one, a veranda  with a view over the beach, she saw a group of people laughing around a  large round table. The two blonde women must be his American  sisters-in-law. They both glowed with good cheer and the effects of the  Omani sunshine. Four children, ranging in age from two to about six,  wriggled in seats next to them, finishing the remains of pastries and  scrambled eggs. Two tall and handsome men sipped their coffee and looked  with calm indulgence over their rather messy offspring.

"I'm so glad you're all gathered in one place." Quasar's deep voice  immediately commanded the attention of the group. "I have someone very  important for you to meet."

Dani blanched as he said her name, wondering if they'd react with  hostility or disdain. Their warm smiles and greetings soon put her at  ease, though, as Quasar made his way around the table introducing each  one. The taller blonde was Celia, the landscape designer, who was  married to his oldest brother, Salim. Her husband looked more than a  little forbidding in his dark pinstriped suit, but he made her promise  to make herself at home at the hotel. She was relieved that he didn't  even mention the lawsuit.                       
       
           



       

Muscular Elan looked much more casual in jeans and a white T-shirt. He  laughed when Quasar apologized for dragging her here, and consoled Dani  that the Al Mansur men do need some retraining at first. Elan's wife,  Sara, was sweet and welcoming and said that she was just getting to know  the vast hotel complex herself and still got lost here sometimes.

A waiter brought two new seats and baskets of fresh pastries and fruit,  as well as another pot of coffee, and to her surprise she soon found  herself and Quasar making easy conversation with them about life in  America versus life in Oman. She relaxed a bit as it became clear they  did not consider her to be their enemy simply because of her father's  lawsuit.

"Quasar pretends he lives in the States but lately he spends as much  time here as he does there," teased Salim. "He even has a house out in  the desert because staying at my hotels isn't homey enough for him."

Dani froze. They obviously had no idea she'd seen his house in the desert and tested the firmness of the mattress.

"I like to enjoy the best of both worlds. I come here to relax and  unwind and step back to a simpler time. Now if only I could find someone  trustworthy enough to look after a falcon for me when I'm in the  States, my life would be complete."

"You should have seen him hunting with the falcon he had as a kid."  Elan leaned forward and looked warmly at Dani. "He caught and trained it  himself and he would spend all day out there in the middle of nowhere  in pursuit of some imaginary quarry."

"You'd be surprised how many rabbits we brought home for Mom's cooking pot. All it takes is patience."

"Most people don't have that kind of patience. To look at your life  now, I wouldn't have guessed you did, either," said Salim. "I can't  believe you just sold another promising business that you could have  taken to the next level."

"It was time to move on." Quasar sipped a glass of berry-colored juice.

"See? You're always looking for the next big thing."

Quasar frowned. "Maybe that's what I've been doing wrong lately. Too  much rushing, not enough waiting." He looked at Dani and the expression  in his eyes made her breath catch. "It's possible that I got off track  and now I'm finding my way back. I can be as patient, steady and  persistent as the Al Hajar Mountains themselves when I need to be."

She blinked and swallowed, then looked away. Did his whole family know  about their relationship? She couldn't believe he was speaking so  intimately in front of them. She felt as if he were trying to convince  her he could be the kind of reliable, steady man she could count on. On  the other hand, maybe he was just talking about falconry.

"Lately Salim's taken up sailing," said Celia. "He said it's both  humbling and awe-inspiring learning to work with such powerful forces as  the wind and the currents."

"Yes." Salim raised a brow. "I don't think I would have been ready for  it if Celia and Kira hadn't already quietly demonstrated to me that the  world doesn't revolve around me, I'm simply part of a much bigger  picture."

Sarah laughed. "I think the Al Mansur men attract energy like a vortex. You all have to learn to use it wisely."

"And perhaps that is best accomplished with the help of a good woman," said Quasar softly.

Everyone looked surprised, perhaps that he was speaking so frankly in  front of Dani. She wasn't sure he'd even mentioned her to them before.  She pretended to be busy tugging apart a croissant. Did Quasar really  have such strong feelings for her? It was a little intimidating. She  hadn't let herself dare to imagine that he might feel anything beyond  attraction and lust. They hadn't known each other long enough.

And her father hated the whole Al Mansur family with a fiery passion.

"Dani, is your father Mohammed Hassan?"

She felt her eyes widen at Salim's question. Apparently the time for  niceties had passed and he was going to bring up the lawsuit. "Yes."

"Our father paid for that land fair and square," Salim continued. "There's no written contract because..."

"Because my grandfather couldn't read or write." She'd heard the sob  stories about an illiterate fisherman being cheated out of his legacy.  And his brilliant, self-educated son-her father-devoting his life to  getting it back.

"Exactly. But that doesn't invalidate the deal. A handshake was as good  as an iron-clad legal document back then. Still is, to men of honor."