“And you made love to me, Lucy, knowing you distrusted me.” He shook his head. “What kind of woman are you?”
“Please.” She reached out again, found his arm and gripped it tight, as if the connection was everything.
He stood still. “What? What is it you want?”
“I want,” she swallowed hard. There were so many things she wanted, she needed, from Razeen. But none she could speak of because she had to put herself second. While Razeen might not know what happened to Maia, he was the only one who could help her find her. Because she knew, just knew, that Maia was in Sitra somewhere. “I want, I need, your help. I have to find Maia.”
He looked down at her hand on his arm. “And that’s all you want, is it?” He sighed at her brief nod. “I’ll help you find her. Of course I will. I don’t want people disappearing without trace in my country.” He closed his eyes, momentarily. “Rest assured, Lucy. I will help you. I have people working on it now. Go now. Eat. Rest. If she’s anywhere in Sitra I will find her easily enough. And if she’s in France, or wherever,” he shrugged, “well, that may take a little longer but I’ll get as much information for you as I can.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes were hard now, so different to how they’d been earlier.
“Now,” he pulled his arm away, “do whatever you wish but I must go.”
He turned and walked out the room without a backward glance. Lucy felt grief fill the pit of her stomach like cold stone: grief for her lost sister and grief for the loss of the spark that had filled Razeen’s eyes when he’d looked at her. Now, all she saw was disappointment and anger.
Lucy went inside her suite and lay on the bed. Her fingers sought the bookmark and she rubbed its smooth surface between her fingers, desperate for comfort.
I’m coming, Maia, I’m coming.
After an afternoon of pacing her rooms, Lucy was sitting on the bed, her head in her hands, there was a knock at the door. She leaped up to answer it and found a weary Razeen standing there, hands thrust in pockets, eyes guarded.
“Prepare yourself for a journey. I think I may have found her.”
“Where? Is she all right? Tell me!”
“I don’t know the details. Just a lead. Get your things.”
Lucy had already prepared her bag and within minutes she was following Razeen down to the garages. They were soon roaring across the desert in a four-wheel drive, followed by another vehicle containing his bodyguards.
Lucy glanced repeatedly at Razeen, willing him to speak. But his lips were clamped together in an expression of grim determination. She followed his gaze out to the flat desert—more a stony plain than the sand dunes she’d imagined—and the distant mountains that were a startling orange in the afternoon sun. There was nothing but emptiness for miles upon miles. Wherever they were going she could see it was going to be a long journey. She just prayed that Maia was all right, that Razeen was silent because of his anger with her, not because anything bad had happened to Maia.
The four-wheel drive revved and roared over the bumpy surface and she clung to the door handle. The air conditioning was on low and it was warm and dry in the vehicle. She drank from her water bottle but it did nothing to ease her discomfort. She couldn’t bear the tension any longer.
“Razeen, you may be disappointed in me, you may hate me, but you have to tell me. What do you know?” Her voice was cracked with emotion.
He didn’t answer immediately, merely focused on the dirt road ahead.
She took a deep breath. “Please. Give me something. Tell me she’d not dead.”
He glanced at her, but the expression in his eyes wasn’t reassuring. “She’s not dead.”
Lucy fell back against the seat with relief. “Thank God.”
“I have accounted for all of my party except for one of the domestic staff at the Lodge with whom Maia was friendly. The man is a Bedouin from the place we are going to. I’m hoping he may be able to tell us where she is.”
Panic filled her. “Why? Does he have a criminal record? What kind of man is he?”
“I would hardly employ someone at the Lodge if he had a criminal record.” Razeen shrugged. “By all accounts he is hard worker, an intelligent man, who returned to his home around the same time my party of friends left.”
“And you’re sure they left without her?”
“Positive. I checked with them all. My friends all confirm she arrived here with them, that she stayed at the Lodge with them, but she didn’t leave with them.”
“You contacted them! Why didn’t you tell me? What did they say?”