“No Hassad. For tonight.”
“But, your Highness, it can not be done...” he protested, but Rashid stopped him with a look. “Very well. It will be done, with God’s help.”
“You do not have to pack up the whole palace, Hassad, just enough for a romantic dinner for two.” Seeing the look on his servant’s face, added with a chuckle, “Do not look so, Hassad. I have faith in your abilities, even if you do not.”
Hassad shook his head in bewilderment. His master had never been so impulsive, or so agitated over a woman before. And Hassad had seen Rashid go through plenty of women, but never before had one touch his heart. This worried Hassad, he feared the golden haired American would only bring his master pain.
At that moment, Sara was sitting in front of the mirrored vanity, brushing her long silken tresses. She was in a funk. Her mind was in such a jumble that she just couldn’t think straight, and was relieved when Yasmine came into the room to distract her.
The young girl was fairly bursting with excitement. “The palace is all in an uproar.” she announced.
Sara smiled. “What’s going on?”
“I am not sure, no one will stop long enough to tell me, but I think it has something to do with the desert.”
“The desert?” asked Sara, intrigued.
“Yes, Rashid sometimes goes out into the desert to sleep as our ancestors once did.” answered Yasmine.
Sara felt her insides grow cold. She had chased him away. But wasn’t that what she wanted ... or was it? She didn’t know what she wanted, and was thankful to Yasmine for suggesting a swim so she didn’t have to think about it any longer.
While Sara and Yasmine prepared for their swim, Rashid worked, sitting at his big ebony desk. His study/office was a big bright room, with long, arched windows looking out onto the garden courtyard, directly across from Sara’s suite. The wall opposite the windows was a solid bookcase, filled with quite a collection, from leather bound first editions of the classics to books on almost every religion in the world to the most popular American best sellers. Rashid had proudly shown off his collection to Sara, who he’d learned loved to read.
He was working intently, papers and ledgers were strewn about, obscuring the inlaid Mother-of-Pearl desktop, until the sound of feminine laughter distracted him. The sound came from the pool in the garden where Sara and Yasmine were frolicking in the water. Their laughter drew him to the large arched doorway leading to the garden that had been filled with such enchantment only last night. He stepped outside.