Bahrain to meet with Mr. Al Makar."
"You're going to design Najib's house?"
"I haven't committed yet. If he's going to give me free rein with design and budget, I'll seriously consider it."
"He'll be a fantastic client. Though perhaps I shouldn't tell you that. I need a residence for myself, and I suspect you would be the perfect designer."
She paused in her stroking. "I really don't do many houses."
"This is more of a palace. As you already know, I inherited a third of my father's kingdom, and in his wisdom he saw fit to give me the emptiest, most desolate tract.
There's not a single building on it, not even a shed."
"A blank canvas." She stroked again, trying to distract herself from thoughts of building a palace. Palaces lasted hundreds of years-if no one killed the monarch and destroyed it, of course.
"Yes, and you'd find me a very tractable client. I have no idea what I want except that it needs to fit the desert setting and have the smallest carbon footprint possible. You must give me your card."
She laughed. "You sound like I'm about to get off this plane and walk away."
His shoulders shook with laughter. "If only. What's your last name?"
"Baxter, Veronica Baxter. Please call me Ronnie."
"I'd love to pretend I've heard of you, but I'll plead ignorance."
"I'll admit your plea. I won an American Institute of Architects award last year."
"I'm impressed. And I need a palace."
"At least you hope you do. We have to get out of here first." She stroked the back of his neck, disturbing the strands of dark hair there. They'd both cooled down enough to stop sweating, but her core temperate kept rising due to proximity to this breathtakingly handsome man-who'd saved her life.
He reached around and took hold of her wrist gently but firmly. "We're going to be fine. You do believe that, don't you, Ronnie?"
She drew in an unsteady breath. "I think so."
"They'll send out a search party." He still held her wrist. She thought that maybe she should try to tug it back, but she didn't. "We'll be drinking champagne by tomorrow afternoon, probably."
"Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Stay here." He rose, and again his brusque command made her raise a brow, but she took the opportunity to rub a cool cloth over her own neck and shoulders, under her blouse. Zadir retrieved their Evian bottles from the no doubt rapidly warming fridge and handed hers to her. She took a sip. "That tastes better than the most expensive champagne right now."
He grinned, revealing that cute dimple. "I guess adversity makes you appreciate the important things."