‘Dammit,’ Sam hissed, ‘get to the point! Is Khalil there, or isn’t he?’
‘Indeed,’ Hassan said pleasantly, ‘my Lord Khalil has always had a preference for this city.’
Joanna took a deep breath. Enough pleasantries. It was time to get down to business.
‘Mr Hassan,’ she said, ‘I should like to speak with the Prince.’
Hassan’s tone hardened. ‘I’m afraid that is out of the question, Miss Bennett. If you have a message for him, I shall be happy to deliver it.’
Joanna’s hand began to sweat on the phone. Her father was still giving her that same steadfast look and a self-satisfied smile was beginning to form on his lips.
‘Give it up, baby,’ he said quietly. ‘I told you you couldn’t pull it off.’
‘Mr Hassan,’ Joanna said evenly, ‘I’m afraid you don’t understand. I want to assure the Prince that the only reason for the change in plans is because my father is ill. As for Mr Ellington—I’m afraid he misunderstood my father’s instructions. The Prince will be dining with my father’s representative, whom he trusts completely and holds in the highest esteem.’ Joanna looked at Sam. ‘Vice-president Jo Bennett.’
‘One moment, please, Miss Bennett,’ Hassan said.
Joanna felt a rush of hope. She smiled sweetly at Sam. ‘He’s going to put the Prince on,’ she said, and hoped that her father couldn’t see her crossed fingers.
* * *
Across town, in the elegant royal suite of the Hotel Casablanca, Prince Khalil glared at his prime minister.
‘What sort of man is this Sam Bennett,’ he growled, ‘that he asks his daughter to telephone me and beg on his behalf?’ He folded his arms across his chest, his dark blue eyes glinting like sapphires in his tanned, handsome face. ‘Bennett is worried,’ he said with satisfaction as he leaned his hard, six-foot frame against the wall.
‘Precisely, my lord. He must be ready to bend to your will or he would not have ordered a woman to act as his agent.’
‘Only a fool would bring his daughter on such a trip,’ Khalil said with disdain. ‘The woman must have thought Casablanca would be an exotic playground in which to amuse herself.’
Hassan’s grizzled brows lifted. ‘Of course, my lord. She is, after all, of the West.’
Khalil grunted in assent. ‘What does she want?’
‘To speak with you.’ Khalil laughed and Hassan permitted himself a smile. ‘I told her, of course, that was not possible, and then she said Sam Bennett wishes tonight’s dinner meeting to take place.’
‘Ah.’ Khalil’s hard mouth curled with the shadowy beginnings of an answering smile. ‘Bennett has decided he wants to keep our appointment now?’
‘He is ill, sire, or so the woman claims, and wishes to send an emissary. I suspect it is an excuse he uses to save face.’
Khalil strode forward. ‘I do not meet with emissaries, Hassan.’
Hassan dipped his head in respect. ‘Of course, my lord. But her offer is interesting. The emissary is Joe Bennett, a vice-president of the company.’
Khalil’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who? I have never heard of such a person.’
Frowning, Hassan took his hand from the telephone and spoke into it. ‘We have no knowledge of this person who would meet with Prince Khalil, Miss Bennett. Is he related to your father?’
‘Mr Hassan, if I could just speak with the Prince—’
‘The Prince does not speak with underlings, and he surely does not meet with them,’ Hassan said coldly. ‘If you wish to answer my questions, I will transmit the information to my lord. Otherwise, our conversation is at an end.’
‘Jo,’ Sam said, ‘give it up. You’re not gonna get to first base with this guy.’
Joanna swung away from her father. ‘Jo Bennett is hardly an underling, Mr Hassan.’
‘Jo,’ Sam said, his voice gaining authority, ‘did you hear me? Give it up. You took a shot and you lost.’
‘Miss Bennett,’ the voice in her ear said sharply, ‘I asked you a question. Who is Joseph Bennett? Is he Sam Bennett’s son?’
Joanna swallowed, shut her eyes, then opened them. ‘Yes,’ she said into the telephone, praying that the Prince would forgive the deception after she convinced him that there’d be enough money in this deal to make him happy, ‘yes, that’s right, sir. He is.’
‘A moment, please.’ Hassan put his hand over the mouthpiece again and looked at the Prince. ‘The man you would dine with is the son of Sam Bennett.’
Khalil glared at his minister. ‘A son,’ he snarled, ‘a young jackal instead of the old.’ He stalked across the elegant room, turned, and looked at Hassan. ‘Tell the woman you will accept a meeting with her brother. Perhaps my judgement is wrong. Perhaps the son has some influence on the father. At any rate, you can convey my message clearly: that I will not be ignored in this matter!’
Hassan smiled. ‘Excellent, my lord.’ His smile fell away as he tilted the phone to his lips. ‘Miss Bennett.’
Joanna blinked. ‘Yes?’
‘I, Adym Hassan, Special Minister to His Highness Prince Khalil, will meet with your brother tonight.’
Joanna clutched the cord tighter. ‘But—’
‘Eight o’clock, as planned, at the Oasis Restaurant. As they say in your world, take it or leave it, Miss Bennett.’
‘Jo?’ Sam’s voice rose. ‘Dammit, Jo, what’s he saying? He’s turning you down flat, isn’t he?’
Joanna hunched over the phone. ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘eight o’clock. That will be fine. Thank you, sir.’ She hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and turned to her father. ‘You see?’ she said briskly. ‘That wasn’t so hard after all.’
‘He’s meeting with you?’ Sam said doubtfully.
Joanna nodded. ‘Sure. I told you he would.’
Sam blew out his breath. ‘OK,’ he said, ‘OK. Now, let’s figure out how to get the most mileage we can out of tonight.’ He looked at his daughter and a grin spread over his face. ‘Not bad, kid,’ he said, ‘not bad at all.’
‘It’s not “kid”,’ Joanna said with an answering smile. ‘It’s Vice-President Jo Bennett, if you don’t mind.’
Vice-President Joseph Bennett, she thought, and gave a little shudder. Things were going to get interesting when Special Minister Adym Hassan found out he’d been lied to.
* * *
Halfway across the city, Special Minister Hassan was already thinking the same thing.
‘I am suspicious of Bennett’s motives, my lord,’ he said to Prince Khalil as he hung up the phone. ‘But we shall see what happens. The woman’s brother will meet with me tonight.’
Khalil nodded. ‘Good.’ He turned, walked slowly across the room, and stood gazing out the window as if he could see beyond the city to the hills that marked the boundary of his kingdom. Sam Bennett was a sly, tough opponent; it was more than likely his son would be the same. Too sly and too tough for Hassan, who was loyal and wise and obedient but no longer young. How could he let the old man meet with Bennett? If he’d learned one thing these past weeks, it was that dealing with anybody named Bennett was like putting a ferret in charge of the hen house.
Khalil spun away from the window. ‘Hassan!’
‘Yes, my lord?’
‘I have changed my mind. I will meet with Sam Bennett’s son myself.’
Hassan looked startled. ‘You, sir? But—’
‘There are no “buts”, Hassan,’ Khalil said sharply. ‘Call down for some coffee and lay out my clothing.’ He smiled tightly, the sort of smile that chilled those who knew him well. ‘I promise you this, old man. One way or another, tonight will change everything.’
* * *
It was Joanna’s thought, too, as she sat beside her father, only half listening as he droned on about tonight’s agenda.
One way or another, she knew in her bones that her life would not be the same after this night ended.
Afterwards, she would remember how right she’d been.
CHAPTER TWO
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WHAT did you wear to a dinner meeting with a Hawk of the North?
Not that she’d be dining with the great man himself, Joanna thought wryly as she peered into the wardrobe in her bedroom. Her appointment was with Hassan, Special Minister to Prince Khalil, although what a bandit needed with a minister was beyond her to understand. Their conversation had been brief but it had been enough to give her a good idea of what he’d be like.
He’d be tall and angular and as old as the hills that lay beyond the city. The skin would be drawn across his cheekbones like ivory papyrus. His eyes, pale and rheumy with age, would glitter with distaste when he saw her and realised that she was Joanna Bennett, for he lived in a world in which female equality was unheard of.
Joanna smiled tightly as she riffled through the clothing hanging inside the wardrobe.
How would she convince him to continue the meeting, once her deceit was obvious?
‘Surely, the great Khalil wishes prosperity for his people,’ she’d begin, ‘and would not wish you to refuse to meet with someone who can provide it.’ Then, as distasteful as the prospect was, she’d dig into her purse, take out the envelope with the numbered Swiss bank account her father had established, and slide it gently across the table.
After that, Hassan wouldn’t care if she were a man, a woman or a camel.