Her Kind of Trouble (24 page)

"A
corporate
attorney?"

"I was in a hurry," Lex pointed out.

"It really does read as I stated, Miss Sanger," Mr. Khalef assured me with a kindly smile. "You agree to let bygones be bygones, no more. Here—I will translate it for you."

And he actually did, pointing out areas of text as he went, using the kind of legalese that made it sound legitimate. I was glad both for the translation and the chance to get my bearings.

And the chance to stand there with Lex, practically a free woman, feeling… safe.
Safer
, anyway.

As I signed it, I said, "Perhaps, Mr. Khalef, you could do me the favor of recommending a good criminal defense attorney?"

"But the charges have been dropped."

"Not for me. For a girl I met in lockup. Her name is Samira, and from what I can tell she was arrested for no more than being a down-on-her-luck kid, so I'd like to—"

He turned away from me and beckoned a police officer.

"I can… pay… " I protested, completely ignored as the men conferred.

"Is that it?" asked Lex, after the
mukhbir
was sent back. "Shall we bail out the whole cell block?"

"Not bail," corrected Mr. Khalef solemnly as he returned my passport. "The charges of vulnerability to delinquency have also been dropped."

Just because he
asked
?

I took my familiar blue passport gratefully; I wanted to kiss it. But I was also wary of how easy this had been. How powerful was this guy, anyway?

And how powerful was Lex, that Mr. Khalef worked for him?

"What is this costing you?" I whispered to Lex, as soon as our lawyer turned away to sign more paperwork.

"Is that all you care about?" he asked, still taut with anger. At me. True, we were still holding hands. Nobody dared look at us askance for long, not with the glare Lex aimed at them. But we were as much holding each other captive as giving support.

"I'd rather not owe you for something this big."

"I hadn't realized we were keeping score." His attitude was getting old, real fast.

"I apologize for getting falsely arrested and making you come down here and—no, wait," I whispered back. "I didn't make you do a damned thing, did I?"

"No, you didn't."

"Then why are you so angry with me?"

"Why are you so set against asking me for help?"

"Because." Okay, it wasn't the most mature answer, but the real reason tasted bitter in my mouth as I forced it out. "Because I shouldn't need it. I shouldn't need anyone to come to my rescue, not even you."

Especially not him.

"You think accepting help diminishes a person?" He stared at me, incredulous. "Is
that
why you haven't slept with me since the knife attack?"

Ahmed Khalef looked over his shoulder, surprised. I thought I caught the quirk of a smile as he turned discreetly away.

Lex didn't give a damn who stared. He was waiting to hear what I had to say.

Oh, my… goddess. He thought I didn't find him manly enough? He'd fought off as many attackers as I had, that day!

"No!" I protested. "There are plenty of reasons I'm not sleeping with you, Lex Stuart, but not one of them has to do with—"

At which point the guard returned with a pale Samira in tow. So, to use Lex's usual phrase, we
tabled
it.

The sun was still high as we left the station. It felt like I'd been locked up a lot longer. Then again, the sun stayed up pretty late in
Egypt
during the summer. As soon as we made it to the street, Samira gave me a quick hug—and bolted.

"Samira!" I shouted, turning after her. I immediately saw the futility of trying to follow, the way she dodged expertly through the crowd. Her only acknowledgement was to pause on the corner for a quick wave.

"Rings for rings!" she shouted, gesturing to her own bare throat—and was gone.

My throat wasn't bare. I still wore my chalice-well pendant. Had she meant… ?

She
was a
Grailkeeper
?

Mr. Khalef shook his head, seeming amused by the whole thing. "Children."

"But she needs help," I told him, told Lex—was willing to tell anybody who would listen. "She'll just get arrested again."

"What else could you have done?" asked Lex, his tone gentler than before. He still hadn't let go of my hand.

"I could have…1 don't know. Gotten her settled at a boarding school, or convinced Tala Rachid to take her in, or… something. She shouldn't have left."

Lex said, "Isn't that Samira's choice?"

At least he didn't sound angry anymore.

I looked back to him. "I didn't even get the chance to leave her with any more money."

"I passed her a twenty," Lex admitted. "Look, Mag, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I need to talk with you. Today."

He'd passed her a twenty?

He didn't even know her. But he knew I cared.

"Yes," I said.

"If you don't want to come back to my hotel, then we can find some kind of neutral ground—"

I pressed my fingers to his lips and repeated, "Yes. We'll go to your hotel. We'll talk."

He blinked, only then realizing that I wasn't arguing. His lips softened under my fingers as his golden eyes warmed—and then narrowed in suspicion. But not at me.

I turned, following his gaze.

Right there, across the street, stood Hani Rachid, glaring at us. The only thing more disturbing was how he took one look at Ahmed Khalef and, blanching, sank back into the crowd.

I felt a shiver, despite the nearly unbearable heat.

If Hani Rachid was afraid of someone, that
couldn't
be good.

Chapter 15

"Look at it this way," insisted Lex, using his key card to unlock the door to his suite. "If Ahmed's so dangerous that this Rachid guy is scared of him, aren't you glad Ahmed is on our side?"

"I'm not sure someone who orders the police around and terrifies crime lords can legitimately be on
anybody's
side." I went ahead of him when he held the door open for me… and entered paradise.

Lex's suite was large and lush and tasteful. The floor shone an intricate design of highly polished, inlaid wood. A plush sofa and chair of fine brocade framed a marble cocktail table with a crystal obelisk. The air smelled of fresh flowers from numerous arrangements placed around the room.

"You're out of jail, aren't you?" Lex reminded me, closing the door behind us.

"I'm not saying Mr. Khalef didn't help me. Just… "

"That you're paranoid."

"Don't I have a reason to be?" I reminded him. "Since I got to
Egypt
I've been kidnapped, arrested and attacked with a sword. I'm being told repeatedly that I'm some kind of champion—a job, by the way, that I never applied for."

He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like, "Hah."

Oh. Whatever was going on with him and the Comitatus, he'd been born into it, hadn't he?

"And don't forget, my boyfriend turned out to be descended from a hallowed bloodline of ancient kings, making him the head of a ruthless and powerful secret society."

"No," he murmured, shrugging off his suit coat. "Not the head."

I went still, surprised to get even that big of an update. But it was clearly further than Lex had intended to go in breaking confidence.

"So," he said, more firmly. "Which do you want to partake of first—shower or food?"

I decided not to pursue it; he'd told me what I needed to know. Phil was still in charge of the Comitatus…and Lex still wasn't happy about it. That was their business, just like the goddess grails were mine.

"Food," I announced. "As long as I don't smell too bad. I didn't have any lunch—which is a good thing, considering. But first, would you mind… ?"

"That way." Lex pointed through a latticed archway. "I'll lay out some snacks in the dining room."

The bathroom was resplendent with silver marble, large mirrors, a sunken tub and a separate glass shower.

It had not only a toilet but a bidet, a built-in hair dryer and a telephone. A silver tray held scented oils, real rose water, perfumes. A large arrangement of fresh flowers perched on the granite countertop. The contrast to the hole I'd been in not an hour earlier seemed surreal.

This, I told myself, drying my hands on one-hundred-percent cotton towels, was why I had to be careful of how much I accepted from Lex. It would be too easy to confuse my values in a place tike this.

But oh heavens, the towel was soft. And when I went back into the sitting room, Lex had opened the drapes onto the marble-banistered balcony and, beyond it…

Pyramids.

I kid you not. Just beyond the double glass doors stretched a carpet of remarkably green treetops, and beyond
those
, the three Pyramids of Giza.

"There you are," said Lex, from the suite's formal dining room. "I put crackers and cheese out, and I ordered room service. I hope you don't mind, I just chose two dinners I thought you'd like and figured I'd take whichever one you didn't. Oh. Nice view, isn't it?"

Nice view?

It was a freaking
stupendous
view, and he damn well knew it. But when I tore my gaze away from it and back to him—he'd rolled the cuffs of his crisp linen shirt off his wrists—that view wasn't half-bad, either.

There was something golden about Lex. Always had been. Part of it was his warm coloring, the ginger-brown hair and the aged-whiskey eyes and the faint tan from golf and sailing. Part of it was his body, shoulders broad, waist narrow, every bit of him kept in determinedly good shape as if to make up for the sin of having once been a sickly child. Part of it was the way he wore those tailored trousers. But most of it was just…him. His regal posture. His easy confidence. His
presence
.

Lex wasn't movie-star gorgeous; I doubt I could ever have wholly trusted him if he were. Instead, he had the genuine good looks that seem to come more clearly into focus the longer you look at him.