He laughed uproariously. “My God! Can you imagine what the papers would be like if they knew the truth? “Billionaire Badir in Love Nest with Long-Lost Sister.” They’d put Elvis in the story before they were through. A ménage à trois.”

Jenna laughed, too. But she went to sleep that night missing Brad.

O

It was hard to keep track of time in the eternal balm of southern California.

Had another week gone by?

Jenna was edgy. Time to go home. She wasn’t really needed here. Laila was doing well; although she still tended to avoid others and to sleep a great deal, she hadn’t missed a single appointment with the psychiatrist in Los Angeles, Jabr driving her there and back. She had even asked Jenna’s opinion about writing a letter of apology to the banished boyfriend.

“Don’t apologize,” said Jenna. “Explain. Tell him how you felt then, and how you feel now. If he’s the man you think he is, he’ll understand.” The reunion with Malik was winding down, too. His business was reclaiming his attention— meetings, international phone calls and faxes, discussions with Farid late into the night. And there were his racehorses. Soon, too, Karim would be home, a new school year beginning.

And there was Brad. Surely, she could find a way to make him under- stand. Her words to Laila echoed in her thoughts.

O

Finally, on yet another hazy blue-and-gold desert afternoon, after dis- cussing her plans with her brother and Laila, she booked a flight to Logan for the following day.

Malik was on his way to the track, where his favorite three-year-old was entered in a major stakes race. “Come with me,” he invited. “We’ll make a little good-bye party for your last day.”

“No, thanks, Brother. I don’t want to end up on the front pages again. Go and enjoy yourself. I’ll relax by the pool. Who knows when I’ll get a chance like this back East?”

“You’re sure?”

“Will you please go?”

He departed with Farid, both of them still inviting her, even as the door closed.

She chose a bathing suit from among the dozen Malik had insisted on buying. Surely, she’d have the best collection in Boston. A call to the kitchen brought a cooler of lemonade and snacks. As a finishing touch, she found a novel with absolutely no redeeming value. Thus armed, she stretched out in the sun.

For a while, it was exactly the pure, mindless luxury she needed. But then the heroine of the novel had a terrible falling-out with the man who was obviously destined to be the love of her life. It was all a misunderstanding— totally contrived, thought Jenna disgustedly. But was it really any crazier than what was going on with Brad?