Sally Wentworth - Duel In The Sun

‘Yes, well, Mr Rafiq, I’m sorry, I can’t work for you because I’m already committed to work at an excavation site.’

‘You are not a travel courier?’

‘No. I’m a textile expert. I came out here at short notice to take the place of someone who had to fly home for family reasons. I couldn’t possibly let them down.’ Even as she said it Catriona wondered if Dr Kane was at this moment on the telephone to England, furiously demanding to know where she was.

‘You would not find the house where you live at the excavation site pleasant,’ Rafiq told her. Adding imperiously, ‘It is much better here, so you will stay.’

Even if Catriona had wanted the job, she would have objected to the way he issued such peremptory orders. Her mouth had dropped open at his insolence, but now it hardened. ‘I’ve already said no. I’m sorry about the mix-up, but it was your driver who made the mistake, and I must ask you to take me to the excavation site straight away.’

He frowned angrily, but then shrugged and reached for a telephone on his desk. ‘Where is it?’

‘A place called Mem Habu. I believe it’s to the north-west of Luxor and...’ Her voice trailed off as she saw Omar Rafiq’s head come up in surprise and his eyes widen.

‘Are you talking of the excavation under the leadership of Lucas Kane?’

She nodded. ‘Dr Kane. That’s right. Do you know him?’

‘We have—met.’ He took his hand from the phone and leaned back in his chair. ‘So you are Kane’s new textile expert.’ And he suddenly began to laugh.

Catriona didn’t like the sound of that laughter. It had no humour in it, was more a triumphant peal. ‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded.

Rafiq stopped laughing but there was still a mocking twist to his lips as he said, ‘Just that you should be on your way there, of all places.’

She frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘It is no matter.’ Rafiq gave her a contemplative look, his eyes again running over her tall, slim figure, settling on her face. Catriona had seen that assessing look in men’s eyes a thousand times before, and it certainly wasn’t the way Rafiq had looked at her when he’d thought her to be his children’s tutor.

Her chin lifting, she said. ‘I’ll go and pack. Please tell your driver to take me to the site in half an hour.’

Again Rafiq looked amused. ‘You would not be happy there, Miss Fenton. The site house is very primitive. And Dr Kane...’ He spread his hands in a descriptive gesture and there was scarcely concealed dislike in his voice as he said, ‘He is a quick-tempered man. You would not find him sympathetic, especially after going to the wrong place. I assure you, you would be much happier here.’

‘No, thank you,’ Catriona replied firmly. ‘Will you tell your driver to take me or not?’

‘I’m afraid he is busy today.’

It was a lie and they both knew it. Catriona glared at him, but Rafiq merely gave her a mocking, arrogant look in return. Anger filled her, but Catriona merely said, ‘In that case I will take a taxi.’

He gave a sardonic smile. ‘By all means.’

‘Please call one for me.’

‘If you wish to take a taxi, Miss Fenton, you must telephone yourself. Here is the directory.’

He took a thick book from a drawer in his desk and passed it to her. Catriona took it, her eyes on his face, not liking his expression one bit. Glancing down at the phone book, she began to flip through the pages but soon came to an angry stop. The whole book was, of course, in Arabic script, the loops and whirls completely incomprehensible to her western eyes. ‘You know I can’t read this,’ she said shortly. ‘Just what are you trying to do?’

‘To keep you here, of course.’ Standing up, Rafiq came round the desk. His smile losing its mockery, he turned on the charm and said persuasively, ‘My children like you, Miss Fenton. And it would be a great inconvenience to send to England for another teacher for them. This house is, I think you’ll agree, very comfortable, and the pay is good. In fact I will increase the amount, if you will stay, to—’ again he looked at her contemplatively ‘—to twenty thousand pounds.’

Catriona had been short of money for so long that the offer was very tempting, but she had recognised that assessing glance and was pretty sure that the extra money was also a sweetener that might help to persuade her to become something more than just his children’s tutor. But she definitely wasn’t into that. She had the instinctive feeling that he was the kind of man who used women, who had no real respect for her sex and looked on them as there merely for his amusement or service. And besides, his overbearing arrogance, his calm assumption that she should just drop all her plans and do what he wanted, had aroused a stubborn anger in her that no amount of smooth charm could overcome, so she said firmly, ‘I’ve already said no. Please don’t ask me again. I’ve promised to work at the dig and I intend to keep that promise. So please phone for a taxi.’

But Rafiq merely gave a small smile. ‘Why don’t you think about it? Look round the house. There is a swimming-pool outside. The children will show you. And we will talk again over dinner.’

Becoming angry, Catriona said, ‘Mr Rafiq, will you please listen to me? I have to get to Mem Habu as soon as possible. Dr Kane will be worried about me. He will have phoned to England to see where I am.’

To her surprise he looked amused again, and she could only guess that there was some sort of enmity between the two men. ‘I am sure Dr Kane can wait.’

She went to argue again but he had pressed a bell on his desk and the children came back into the room. He spoke to them in Arabic and they laughed and caught Catriona’s hands, eagerly pulling her out with them. For a moment she tried to resist, turning to look at their father, but Rafiq came up behind them and closed the door, shutting her out with the children so the door received the fuming look that had been meant for him.

Allowing the children to lead her round the house, Catriona was shown the swimming-pool, the indoor tennis court and gymnasium, was taken round the courtyard garden, and finally up to a big sitting room on the first floor which had a wide veranda. From it there was the most marvellous view of the River Nile, only a couple of hundred yards away. It was her first glimpse of the famous river, and Catriona stood in fascination, watching a small fleet of feluccas, their sails bleached by the sun, sail slowly by.

Mrs Aziz came into the room and spoke to the children. Nadia turned to Catriona. ‘We go...’ She mimed washing her face and hands.

‘To wash,’ Catriona supplied.

The little girls repeated it after her and ran out of the room. Mrs Aziz went to follow but Catriona caught her arm. ‘Please. You speak English?’

The woman shrugged. ‘Little.’

There was a phone on a table by the wall. Gesturing to it, Catriona said, ‘You telephone for me. Ask for a taxi.’

But the housekeeper shook her head vigorously. ‘No. Pasha Omar, he say no taxi.’

‘Please,’ Catriona pleaded. ‘I shouldn’t be here. I must go.’

But the woman was obviously intimidated by her employer; she refused to be persuaded and pulled away, then hurried from the room.

Catriona bit her lip in vexation; this was starting to get out of hand. And she couldn’t understand why. She was sure that Rafiq had accepted her refusal and had been about to let her go, but then she’d mentioned Dr Kane and everything had changed. For a few minutes she felt helpless, a stranger lost in a strange land, but then her natural confidence returned to her; this was almost the twenty-first century, and there was no way anyone could keep her here against her will. Crossing to the phone, she picked up the receiver, then realised she didn’t know what number to dial to get the operator, but she tried various combinations and at last got a ringing tone. A voice came on the line and Catriona said quickly, ‘Please, do you speak English?’