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me…Monsieur Souverain,” he said in a deep, soft tone.
    â€œDo you have a first name, or is that some heavily guarded secret?” she teased.
    He chuckled. “Philippe,” he said smoothly.
    â€œPhilippe.” She smiled.
    The twinkle in his eyes became more pronounced. He pursed his lips. “Come along,” he said, turning. “We can go on to Asilah, if you like?”
    â€œI’d like that very much,” she said honestly and then hesitated. “I’m not taking you away from any important business, am I?” she asked, concerned.
    He laughed. “I have no important business after today and tomorrow,” he assured her. “Perhaps, like you, I am having a holiday.”
    â€œI’ll bet you don’t have many,” she said, watching her step as they climbed the narrow, rocky path up to the parking lot.
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œYou act like the consummate businessman,” she told him without looking up. “I expect you’re in town on some huge project that involves all sorts of important people.”
    â€œI was,” he said. “But the deal rather fell through before I got off the plane. I am working on another, however, which I expect will be even more successful.”
    She didn’t notice that he was watching her covertly as he spoke, and that his eyes were brimming over with humor.
    She looked around as they started to get back into the hotel’s car, and she caught her breath. “It’s nothing like I expected when we left Texas,” she confided. “It’s so exciting, and the people are all friendly and courteous—it’s almost like being at home, except for the way people dress and the sound of Arabic and Berber being spoken.” She turned to him with the car door standing open.
    â€œDon’t you know anything about Morocco?” he asked gently.
    She laughed. “All our television reporters talk about are scandals and political issues and the latest tragedy. They don’t tell us one thing about other countries unless somebody important is murdered in one.”
    â€œSo I have seen,” he mused.
    She grinned. “That’s why Maggie and I came to Morocco, to see what it was really like. And now that we’ve been properly introduced,” she added, smiling as she extended her hand, “I’m very pleased to meet you, Monsieur Souverain.”
    â€œI can return the compliment, Gretchen.” He brought her hand, palm up, to his hard mouth and looked straight into her eyes as his lips brushed it with a strangely sensuous motion. He made her name sound foreign, mysterious, exciting. The feel of his mouth on her skin made her uneasy, although not in any bad way. Faintly unnerved by the sensations the caress caused in her body, she pulled her fingers away a little too quickly, laughing nervously to cover the action.
    He didn’t say a word until they were comfortably seated and the car was moving again, but his eyes were even more curious. She looked hunted for a moment, and that would never do. He smiled carelessly. “Would you like to hear something of the history of Tangier?” he asked.
    â€œI’d love to,” she replied.
    He crossed his long legs. “The Berbers were the first to arrive here,” he began, warming to his subject.
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    They passed cork factories and olive groves along the highway that led down the coast to Asilah, and Gretchen laughed as she watched camels playing in the surf at the ocean’s edge.
    â€œThey like to swim and sun themselves,” Philippe told her pleasantly, “much like tourists on holiday.”
    â€œThey’re very soft, but they aren’t as big as I expected them to be. I guess they look different in movies.”
    â€œYou saw The Wind and the Lion with Sean Connery?” he asked at once.
    â€œWhy, yes, several times,” she confessed.
    â€œThe palace of the Raissouli is in