Indira Jackson - Rayan - Son of the Desert

Her long, dark, blond hair was bound into a ponytail and she wore a light, linen headscarf. Along with that, she wore a dark green linen blouse, which emphasised the colour of her eyes well. With her 1.65 m she was rather short, but that had been seen as an advantage by her Arabian admirers so far.

Additionally, she was wearing cream-coloured trousers, which were ankle-length, and colour-matching sandals. The clothing fell softly around her body, not pointing out her slim, sporty figure too much. In Arabic countries it was better to wear more clothes than show too much skin for your own safety.

Of course the men liked less fabric (and naked skin), which some of the female tourists liked to show off, as for them that was just like an invitation. At first that could be exciting but the novelty tended to wear off very fast. However, much worse were the Arab women, especially the elderly ones; they would throw glances at you that could kill you. Carina had had that experience as she went naively through some bazaar in Egypt in hot-pants and a top with spaghetti straps at the age of 16. After a few minutes she had felt like she was running the gauntlet. Since then she has always carefully considered her clothing.

She thought about the Sheikh: why had he talked to her like that? Was it really only because of the article? She tried to remember his looks: he was tall – surely almost 1.90 m but additionally he was in perfect shape – those muscles!

And of course she had to picture again those impressive, dark-blue eyes. She just could not get away from the intensity of his gaze. Yet she pondered: why did an Arabian Sheikh have blue eyes? He had to have some foreign ancestors, surely that was the only logical explanation?

The black turtleneck had fitted perfectly to his dark jacket and had shown just enough for her to suspect that underneath lay a heavily trained body full of muscles. What would he look like naked? Just when she started to picture this in more detail, in the turmoil of the market someone bumped into her from behind, bringing her back to reality. She tried to concentrate more on her surrounding, after all there were more than enough thieves in any bazaar. Caution, therefore, was essential. However, the moment she paid more attention to the people around her she realised, suddenly, that some of them had been just about to talk to her in that famous and so typical way;, then they suddenly turned away to go on with other business, as if they had changed their minds.

Only when she reached the end of the long row of stands a jeweller solved the riddle for the woman from Munich: ”Young lady, wouldn’t you like to underline your beauty with one of these priceless pieces? Maybe a necklace? Or – but you already have one… - then perhaps these earrings? For sure they will fit perfectly? May I?“ And without waiting for an answer, he moved his hand to touch her new amulet. Right before she could phrase her usual protest that she had specifically ready for this kind of case, the hand of the merchant stopped dead where it was before even touching the gold. Then he suddenly drew back his fingers as if he was afraid of burning himself. His face had gone pale. “Excuse me Madam, that I have bothered you.” Then he bowed deeply in front of her and quickly disappeared into his store.

At that moment the pieces of the jigsaw-puzzle fell into place. She was still wearing the necklace with the emblem of the Sheikh around her neck. Exactly like the guy Mazin had told her, she did not remove it. Not so much because she had really been counting on the result, but rather more because she regarded it as a sign of good fate to help her on her search. She could hardly believe that the Sheikh’s influence reached that far: yet she had just witnessed it. Happily she decided that this was going to be helpful. Some way further away from the market she got herself a taxi and told to the driver the address of the lawyer’s office.

Carina soon realised that the driver was steering the taxi into the noble part of the city. The streets were getting even wider, cleaner and emptier.

With few exceptions, exclusive cars could be seen on the side of the road. Others were overtaking the taxi with far too much speed. Organising competitions with high-priced cars seemed to be one type of leisure activity around here.

The taxi stopped at a big building with huge mirrored-glass windows, dark glass doors and golden door handles.

She paid the driver and got out. The surroundings were impressive: you could almost smell the luxury all around.

On the outside of the building, in front of which she was standing, she could read the name of the lawyer’s office on a black marble panel, which was written in golden letters – of course.

"They are not even going to let me through that door!", Carina thought, feeling intimidated. Although to give up now, without even trying was not on her list. As she had just arrived here she was not going to back-out or turn around. At least she would try.

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Much to her surprise, an access manager in an impressive uniform just smiled politely at her, asked her to put her name in the visitors’ book and after that let her pass to the elevator without hindrance. She went to the upper level, which obviously was completely occupied by the lawyer’s office, which she could guess from a building plan inside the elevator’s cabin.

As she exited the elevator, the first thing she noticed was the comfortable temperature and then the deep plush floor carpets, which seemed to be fairly expensive and also swallowed every sound. The walls were lined with what seemed like priceless paintings, which simply served to emphasise the office's expensive and impressive luxury. Carina did not know the artist and therefore had no means to estimate their value. Additionally, she had to admit, she did not know much about art in the first place to even dare a guess.

A lady dressed in European clothing immediately came to Carina and greeted her in English: "How can I help you? Do you have an appointment with one of our lawyers?”

"No, I do not have any appointment, sorry. But I would like to speak to Mister Taib Riad, if that would be possible? I have a message for him. “

"I see – just a moment please.“ She went back to her desk and picked up the phone.

After talking briefly she said: “I am really sorry, but Mister Riad is just on his way to a meeting. He asked if you could leave the message with me.”

Carina had no intention at all to let the letter get out of her hands. Therefore she replied: “I am afraid that is not possible. Then she quickly added: “because it is a personal message for his eyes only”. When hearing this, the lady sceptically lifted her eyebrows but still she remained extremely polite. “Would it be possible then, that you at least tell me the name of the person that gave you the message for my superior?”

"That would be His Excellency Sheikh Rayan Suekran al Medina y Nayran - personally“, Carina replied somewhat proudly.

The face of the lady reflected her surprise when hearing the name, but she quickly got herself under control and returned once again to her over-friendly smile.

"Just another moment please“ – and again she picked up the receiver. This time she spoke for a little bit longer. When putting the phone down again, she said: "Mister Riad is going to receive you now. Please come with me.”

Carina could hardly believe her good luck and hurried to follow the assistant. They went along the hallway to her right until the end, around the corner and then again until the end. The names on the office doors they passed told her that several lawyers were obviously working here for this company.