The Lost City of Al-Sheerma - Rescued by the Sheikh - completed

Chapter Twelve

Just over one year later

Dressed in a traditional Arabic belly dancing outfit, draped in jewellery of gold and bronzed with matching long dangling earrings surrounded by fake desert sand, an open tent behind her, Olivia was ready to greet the fans of her best selling book. Once upon a time in a desert.

The scene was set; men in robes went to open the gates, allowing the buyers of her books in, and meeting the writer for the first time since her book had turned into a best seller worldwide.

The first rush went through, having their books signed, photos taken with her, asking nonstop questions about the book, and if any of it was true? 

Olivia laughed. "I can honestly say I'm nothing like the fiery redhead in the book."

"Who is this Khalaf, the one you dedicated the book to, and what did he do to make you find yourself?"

Olivia smiled gently, eyes warm. "A nice man, who is very wise, and intuitive. I was lucky to meet him."

"Well, do not go and tell him that, will you?" Startled, she looked up and blinked at the dark-headed man standing in front of her, dressed immaculately in a Hugo Boss designer suit. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Aaron?" she stood and hugged him to be hugged back. "It's good to see you. How are you? Come around here," she drew him to her side and waved at an organiser for a chair that was arrived and used as she went back to signing books. "Sorry, this is like a madhouse. I'll have a break in two hours. How about a coffee then?" she asked looking across sideways since she wasn't getting a break here.

"I think it might be wiser. I have do have business matters to see to then I'd come back."

"Okay," she smiled to have her cheek kissed, and he was gone, leaving her slightly stunned. She hadn't expected that. Of course, Khalaf wouldn't come, he was far too busy running his country and finding the lost city. She pushed it aside, concentrating on the event. She had come too far to wallow in self-pity and as Khalaf had pointed out to her on so many times, it was such a waste of time and energy. 

Look at her now, in England, signing her book, and she wasn't going to stop now.

When her break came, exhausted, Olivia went out front, discovering a waiting limousine and driver to be taken away dressed as she was, although wearing a long leather coat over her outfit and headed across town. She had a few hours to herself before her next signing. They were packing up and setting up at another spot in London. 

The car pulled up and she looked out the window and up.

The building looked familiar to have her heart racing. It was where she stayed with Khalaf to practically leap from the car as the valet opened the door of the stretch Limousine, which now made sense. Khalaf was here.

She fled inside, heading towards the elevator, and was taken to the top floor that opened into the penthouse. She knocked on the entrance door to be let in by a valet. She charged through throwing off her coat with Khalaf on her lips to come up empty.

"His highness would be joining you shortly." She spun around, hips jingling with coins. Perhaps she should have changed first, then again, she hadn't expected to see Khalaf. He was supposed to stay in his country. "Please make yourself at home."

"Thank you." She waited until she was alone before she headed out onto the balcony, looking across the city of London that brought back so many memories, closing her eyes, imagining she was back in his arms, swaying to the piped-in music.

"I didn't realise my brother had his own personal dancer," a soft voice drawled behind her. There had been disgust in her voice. Olivia slowly turned around, knowing who it was. Obviously, she hadn't recognised her by her shocked look. "Olivia? I just hope my brother doesn't see you like this," she noted. "He would have a fit."