Desert Fantasies(68)
Jalilah opened the door when she knocked.
“I’d like to see Sheikh al Harum,” Ella said, hoping she looked far more composed than she felt.
“He has someone visiting. Wait here.”
Ella stood in the foyer. Her vase was gone. She peered into the salon; it wasn’t there, either. Had something happened to it? Or had Khalid removed it once he’d learned she made it? That made her feel bad.
“Come.” The maid beckoned from the door to the study.
When Ella entered, she stopped in surprise. Two men looked at her. Except for their clothing, and the scar on Khalid’s cheek, they were identical.
“Twins?” she said.
Khalid frowned. “Did you want something?”
“Introduce us,” the other man said, crossing the room and offering his hand.
“My brother,” Khalid said.
“Well, that’s obvious.” Ella extended her hand and smiled. “I’m Ella Ponti.”
“I am Rashid al Harum. You’re the tenant, I take it.”
She nodded. “Unwanted to boot.”
“Only because I want to sell,” Khalid grumbled. “Rashid is trying to talk me out of it, too.”
“Good for you. I told him your grandmother wanted him to have the house. She could have left it to a charity or something if she hadn’t hoped he’d live here,” she said.
“It’s a too big for one man,” Khalid said.
“So—”
He raised his hand. “We’ve been over that. What do you want?”
Rashid glanced at his twin. “Am I in the way?”
Ella shook her head, bemused to see her vase in the center of Khalid’s desk.
“Not at all. I came to ask permission to photograph some of my work in the salon. Give it a proper showing—elegant and refined. The guest cottage just doesn’t have the same ambiance.”
“You want to take pictures of my house?” Khalid asked. “Out of the question.”
“Not the house, just some of my special pieces sitting on a table or something which would display them and give an idea of how they would look in another home. The background would be slightly blurred, the focus would be on my work.”
“Use the table in your workroom.”
“That’s elegant.”
He frowned. “I don’t see—”
“—any problem with it,” Rashid finished before his twin could finish. “I was admiring your vase when you arrived. Khalid explained how you made it. I’d like to see more of your work. I bet Bethanne would, as well.”
“She’d do anything you say,” Khalid grumbled.
“Bethanne?” Ella asked.
“My fiancée. She’s making some changes to my villa in preparation of our marriage and moving in there.”
“So the consumed one is getting married—wouldn’t my grandmother love to know that?” Khalid asked.
“What are you talking about?” Rashid asked, glancing at his twin.
“Nothing, only something your grandmother said to me once. I’m happy for you and your fiancée. You might tell your brother how happy you are so he could go find someone to make a life with and leave me alone,” Ella said hastily.
Rashid looked at her and then Khalid.
“Forget it. We’ve been over this before. I’m not marrying,” Khalid growled.
Rashid looked thoughtful as he again looked back and forth between the two others in the room.
“I, uh, have to be leaving. I’ll bring Bethanne by tomorrow if that suits you, Ella. She’d love to see the glass objects. Khalid, you have what you asked for. Let me know if you need more.” He nodded to both and left, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Ella hated to see him go. He was much easier to be around than his brother.
“So I can use the salon?” she asked. Rashid had indicated yes, but it was still Khalid’s place and his decision she needed.
“What if I say no?” he asked, leaning casually against the side of the desk.
“Then I’ll pester you until you say yes,” she replied daringly. “Maybe it’ll help sell some of my work earlier than originally planned and I could move away sooner.”
“How much sooner?”
“I don’t know, five days?”
A gleam of amusement lit his eyes. “For such an early move, how can I refuse?”
“Thank you. I’ll give credit in my brochure so everyone will know you helped.”
“No. No credit, no publicity.”
She started to protest but wisely agreed. “Okay. I’m cooling a couple of pieces now and once they are ready, I will begin taking pictures. I appreciate this.”
“You weren’t on the beach last night,” he said.
He had been, obviously.
“I, uh, needed to get to sleep early. Big day today.”
“Doing what?”
“Coming to ask you about the salon” sounded dumb. What else could she come up with?
He watched her. Ella fidgeted and looked around the room. “Just a big day. Why is my vase in here?”
“I was looking at it. I thought it was mine.”
“I guess. I should have said why is the vase I made in here instead of the foyer.”
“I wanted to look at it. I like it.”
She blinked in surprise. “You do?”
Amusement lurked in his eyes again. “You sound surprised. Isn’t it good?”
She nodded. “I just can’t imagine you—”
“Having an eye for beauty?”
“I wasn’t exactly going to say that.”
“You haven’t held back on anything else.”
“You are very exasperating, do you know that?” she asked.
“Makes a change from other names I’ve been called.”
If he drove the other people he knew as crazy as he did her, she wasn’t surprised.
Khalid stood and moved around to sit at the desk.
“So, you’ll be on the beach tonight?” he asked casually.
Ella shrugged. “Thanks for letting me use the salon for the photographs.”
“One caveat,” he said, glancing up.
She sighed. It had been too good to be true. “What?”
“I get to give final approval. I don’t want certain prize possessions to be part of your sales catalog. No need to give anyone the idea that more than your glass is available.”
“Done.” She nodded and turned. At the door she stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. “I do expect to take a walk tonight as it happens.”
She wasn’t sure, but she suspected the expression on his face was as close to a smile as she’d seen.
CHAPTER FOUR
ELLA and Khalid fell into a tentative friendship. Each night she went for a walk along the beach. Most evenings Khalid was already on the sand, as if waiting for her. They fell into an easy conversation walking in the dark at the water’s edge. Sometimes they spoke of what they’d done that day. Other times the walks were primarily silent. Ella noted he was quieter than other men she’d known. Was that his personality or a result of the accident? She gathered the courage to ask about it on the third evening after he said she could use the salon.
“How did you get burned?” she asked as they were turning to head for home. She hadn’t wanted to cut the walk short if he got snippy about her question.
“We were capping a fire in Egypt. Just as the dynamite went off, another part of the well exploded. The shrapnel shredded part of my suit, instant burn. Hurt like hell.”
“I can imagine. I’ve had enough burns to imagine how such a big area would be almost unbearable. Were you long in hospital?”
“A few months.”
And in pain for much of that time, she was sure. “Did you get full mobility back?”
“Yes. And other parts were unaffected.”
She smiled at his reminder of her attempt at being tactful when he said he wouldn’t marry. A burned patch of skin wouldn’t be enough to keep her from falling for a man. She suspected Khalid was too sensitive to the scar. There were many woman who would enjoy being with him.
“Good. What I don’t get is why you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Put your life at risk. You don’t even need to work, do you? Don’t you have enough money to live without risking life and limb?”
He was quiet a moment, then said, “I don’t have to work for money. I do want to do what I can to make oil production safe. Over the last fifty years or so many men have died because of faulty equipment or fires. Our company has reaped the benefit. But in doing that we have an obligation to make sure the men who have helped in our endeavors have as much safety guarding them as we can provide. If I can provide that, then it’s for the good.”
“An office job would be safer,” she murmured.
“Rashid has that covered. I like being in the field. I like the desert, the challenge of capturing the liquid crude beneath the land, or the sea. I like knowing I’m pitting my skills and experience against the capricious nature of drilling—and coming out on top more than not.”
“Still seems ridiculously dangerous. Get someone else to do it.”
“It’s my calling, you might say.”
Ella was silent at that. It still seemed too dangerous for him—witness the burn that had changed his life. But she was not someone to argue against a calling. She felt that with her art.