Jovar threw back his head and laughed. “No, madam, he will kill you!” He continued to chuckle, and then abruptly his laughter died. “Does your oh-so-dangerous husband know that you have a fondness for political discussion?”
Alex wet her lips. “I was bored. I did not understand what you were talking about. I thought there was a feast or some such other entertainment. I had no idea it would be a silly argument among men about stupid ships.”
Jovar’s mouth quirked. “Well done—little liar.” His eyes smoldered with hatred.
Alex shrank. Murad stepped forward, gripping her wrist. “We should go, Lilli Zohara.Now.”
Alex allowed him to propel her past Jovar, who did not move out of their path. Alex was forced to brush his body with her arms and hips. She felt ill at making such physical contact. She thought that he laughed. Alex flung a look at him over her shoulder. His eyes glinted as he stared after her very piercingly. And then she and Murad were almost running down the hall.
In her apartments, he slammed and bolted her chamber door closed. “I told you!” he shouted.
“Will Jovar tell Jebal that he found me eavesdropping?” Alex asked, very worried.
“I do not know,” Murad gritted. Then he threw his hands up in despair. “You are impossibly willful, Alex. He saw your face!”
But Alex was not listening. She could not undo what had happened, but she could try to do her duty. She had to try to warn the American navy of Tripoli’s plans. She moved to the large wooden chest, heavily engraved and encrusted with gems, that sat at the foot of her bed.
“Allah bless her, what are you doing?” Murad cried.
Alex flung open the chest, withdrawing the white robes and headdress of a bedouin man. She did not look up as she shed her bracelets, her earrings and necklace.
“No.” Murad came forward. His silver eyes blazed. “Absolutely not.”
But Alex had already shed both sleeveless vests, and now her floor-length tunic followed. His eyes widened, but not because she stood topless before him, for he had dressed, undressed, and bathed her hundreds of times. “Alex! You are insane!”
Alex sat, taking off both silver ankle bracelets, and then she shimmied out of her pale, flowing trousers and reached for the bedouin garments.
Murad stared, then his lashes flickered down. “He shall kill us both for this.”
“I don’t think so,” Alex said, donning the disguise.
“Iknowso.”
She smiled at him as she tossed him another set of bedouin clothes. “Then we shall just have to make sure we are very,verycareful not to be caught disguised as bedouins while outside the palace walls.”
“Moslem women are not free. They belong to their husbands. Jebal is your master, just as you are my mistress.”
Alex sighed as she and Murad hurried down one of Tripoli’s narrow, twisting streets. The odor of garbage was everywhere. “Murad, do not worry so. We are only going out for a walk, or so we shall maintain if we are discovered—which we shall not be.”
“Leaving the harem without an escort and bodyguard is a serious crime,” Murad returned, the faintest note of despair in his tone. “Your dressing as a man is far worse. Alex, you must forget your past. Forget being an American woman. It will be the death of you. Allah keeps only the faithful!” His glance shot heavenward.
“I cannot.” “Zoe is waiting to catch you doing something grievous and punishable like this.”
Alex almost stumbled. She thought of Jovar’s hate-filled eyes. “Let her. I can defend myself against her. Rais Jovar is far more dangerous.”
“At least we are in agreement on that.”
“I am growing tired of your harping, Murad,” Alex warned as they approached Neilsen’s house. It was high afternoon, siesta time for everyone who was anyone in Tripoli. Both Alex and Murad were disguised as simple bedouins, Alex’s headdress wrapped so thoroughly around her face that only her eyes and nose were visible to any passerby. Alex was hoping that the Danish consul could get word to the American navy.
“Your eyes are too green and too long lashed,” Murad returned. “Only from a distance can you fool anyone into believing that you are a man.”
“I am willing to take that chance. We must tell Neilsen what we know. Surely there is a way for him to signal the navy.” His house was set back from the road and surrounded by palm trees and a small orange grove. It was shimmering white limestone. The Danish flag flew from a pole on the terrace.
Murad muttered something in Arabic. The only word Alex understood was Allah.
Feeling a bit sorry for him, Alex touched his arm. “At least I am not boring.”
“You could never be boring, Alex.” He smiled back grudgingly. “You will be the death of me,” he warned.
