CHAPTER ONE

      THE cry of the muezzin rose in the warm evening and hung trembling over the crowded streets of Casablanca. Joanna, listening from the balcony of her hotel suite, felt a tremor of excitement dance along her skin. Not that there was really anything to get excited about. While the hotel was Moroccan in décor, it was the same as hotels everywhere.

      Still, she thought as she put down her cup and leaned her crossed arms on the balcony railing, it was wonderful to be here. This part of the world was so mysteriously different from the life she knew. She felt as if she had stepped back in time.

      ‘Jo!’

      Joanna sighed. So much for stepping back in time. Her father’s angry bellow was enough to bring her back to the present with a bang.

      ‘Jo! Where in hell are you?’

      And so much for the mystery of Casablanca, she thought as she straightened and turned towards the doorway. She was used to Sam Bennett’s outbursts—who wouldn’t be, after twenty-six years?—but she felt a twinge of sympathy for whatever poor soul had made him this angry. Jim Ellington, probably; Sam had been on the phone with his second in command, which meant that Jim must have done or said something that displeased him.

      ‘It’s about time,’ he snapped when she reached the bedroom. ‘I’ve been calling and calling. Didn’t you hear me?’

      ‘Of course I heard you.’ Her father was glaring at her from the bed where he lay back against a clutch of squashed pillows, his ruddy face made even redder by the pain in his back and his bad temper. ‘Half the hotel must have heard you. I take it there’s a problem?’

      ‘You’re damned right there’s a problem! That stupid Ellington—he screwed things up completely!’

      ‘Well, that’s no surprise,’ Joanna said pleasantly. She plumped the pillows, then took a small vial from the nightstand and dumped two tablets into the palm of her hand. ‘I tried to tell you not to rely on him, that he was the wrong person to deal with this idiotic Eagle of the East.’

      ‘Hawk,’ Sam said grumpily as he took the tablets from her. ‘Prince Khalil is called the Hawk of the North.’

      ‘Hawk, eagle, east, north—what’s the difference? It’s a stupid title for a two-bit bandit.’

      Sam grimaced. ‘That “two-bit bandit” can end Bennettco’s mining deal with Abu Al Zouad before it starts!’

      ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Joanna said. She poured some orange juice into a glass and offered it to Sam. ‘Abu’s the Sultan of Jandara—’

      ‘And Khalil’s been harassing him for years, stirring up unrest and trouble whenever he can.’

      ‘Why doesn’t Abu stop him?’

      ‘He can’t catch him. Khalil’s as sly as a fox.’ Sam smiled grimly, then gulped down the juice and handed back the glass. ‘Or as swift as a hawk. He swoops down from the northern mountains—’

      ‘The mountains Bennettco wants to mine?’

      ‘Right. He swoops down, raises hell, then escapes back to his mountain stronghold, untouched.’

      ‘He’s more than a bandit, then,’ Joanna said with a little shudder. ‘He’s an outlaw!’

      ‘And he’s opposed to the deal we’ve struck with Abu.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Abu says it’s because he’s opposed to our bringing in Western ways.’

      ‘You mean, he’s opposed to our bringing in the twentieth century,’ Joanna said with a grimace.

      ‘Whatever. The point is, he’ll do everything he can to keep Bennettco out. Unless we can change his mind, we might as well pack up and go home.’

      ‘I still don’t understand. Why can’t Abu simply have Khalil arrested and—?’ Her brows lifted as her father began to chuckle. ‘Did I say something funny?’

      ‘Have him arrested!’ Sam’s laughter grew, even though he clutched at the small of his back. ‘Have pity, Jo! It hurts when I laugh.’

      ‘I’m not trying to amuse you, Father,’ Joanna said stiffly. ‘I’m just trying to understand why this man isn’t in prison if he’s an outlaw.’

      ‘I told you, they can’t catch him.’

      Joanna’s brows lifted. ‘In case you haven’t noticed,’ she said drily, ‘Khalil can be “caught” this very moment at a hotel on the other side of Casablanca.’

      ‘Yeah, yeah, I told that to Abu.’

      ‘Well, then—’

      ‘He doesn’t want to cause an international dispute with the Moroccan government. This is their turf, after all.’ Sam sighed and fell back against the pillows. ‘Which brings us back to square one and that dumb ass Ellington. If only I could get out of this bed long enough to make that dinner meeting—’

      ‘When we left New York, you made it sound as if this meeting were pro forma.’

      ‘Well, it is. I mean, it should have been—if I hadn’t pulled my back.’ Sam’s mouth turned down. ‘I know I could have finessed the hell out of Khalil—and now Ellington’s managed to make a bad situation worse.’

      ‘I’ll bet Ellington obeyed you to the letter, phoned your regrets about tonight’s meeting, and said he’d dine with Khalil in your place.’

      ‘You’re darned right he obeyed me.’ Sam glared at her. ‘If he wants to keep his job, he’d better!’

      ‘It’s what everybody who works for you does,’ Joanna said mildly, ‘even if your orders are wrong.’

      ‘Now, just a minute there, Joanna! What do you mean, my orders were wrong? I told Ellington to tell the Prince that something had come up that I couldn’t help and—’

      ‘You insulted him.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Come on, Father! Here’s this—this robber baron with an over-inflated