"Thank you again for seeing me back," Nikki smiled up at Hussein.

"We cannot have anything happen to our favourite Australian, can we?"

Nikki choked back laughter that tried to break free as they headed inside since Hussein insisted on seeing her back to her room. She wasn't so sure about his friend.

This Khayri only saw her as a nuisance, she was sure of it. Also came across as brooding. Or maybe it was just her. He didn't have time for the camel backpack, hugging it closer, after today's near mishap.

There were a few moves she knew because of the book Hussein. The other moves one had to work at. The martial arts, arm-to-arm combat, and using weapons, which she didn't do. Thumbs to eyes, the heel of the hand to the nose, things she could do to defend herself against an attack.

The incredible details in Sam Walker's books made her wonder if he was in the special forces like Ant Middleton. Just no one knew about the author's life. Had he spent some time in the Middle East? No photos, didn't do book signing, and kept to himself. No social media coverage.

The books spoke for themselves.

"There's no need to see me to my room."

Dark eyes twinkled at her. "I insist."

"Of course you do," she grinned back as they headed towards the elevators, where she unzipped her camel and hunted around for the room key that she needed for the elevator. Hussein reached forward to press the up button.

As out of nowhere, they were joined by others.

"Here, let me," he held up the pack, guiding her more in front of him, since she was struggling with the zip.

"It catches," she mumbles. The doors opened and Hussein guided her off to the side, while the others piled into the elevator, holding the door for them.

"Will we take the next one," Hussein said.

Reluctantly, the man who was holding the door open released it.

"Sorry," Nikki said, removing the pack from her shoulder, took out the book, unzipped fully then replaced the book, pushed in as far as possible and zipped, looking up to a surprised expression.

"You read Sam Walker?"

"More like devour," she beamed, eyes glowing. "Even name this fellow after him."

Hussein bit back laughter, swiping a hand over his mouth. "Not sure he would appreciate that."

"You know Hussein Abdul?"

"You could say that."

"That's why I came here, because of him."

This time, his eyes widened. "You do realise he is a book character?"

Nikki nodded, mouth pursing. "I do," she hugged the book and camel to her chest. "He made this place come so alive I just had to see it for myself, all the places in his adventures. Like the Khalifa, where Cobra para-glided off the top tower. How he even got up there, after seeing it, boggles the mind."

"You could say that," he smiled like he was holding a secret.

"What? You know something about Sam Walker?" she eyed him sideways.

"No, why should I?"

She pushed her mouth off to the side. "I always wondered if Sam Walker, a very western name, was even a Westerner. He could be Middle Eastern, hiding behind a pseudonym."

"Interesting. How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Let's take the stairs," she offered, and they headed for the stairs that would take them to the second floor. "Let's start with the facts, no photos ever. Why? Hiding the fact of who he is?"

"Or maybe he wanted to keep his privacy. Most writers use a pseudonym."

"True, apart from really famous people, like Middleton."

"Meh." He shrugged.

"Feel the same," she smiled at him. "So you've read Sam Walker's books?"

"You could say that. I didn't realise his newest one had been released as yet."

"I know. Found it in the airport bookshop, so out of the blue." Eyes wide, darting as she lowered her head and voice. "You have no idea how I screamed when I found out it was signed. Signed by Same Walker. Unheard off. There had been rumours for years. Now and then he sends out a signed book from the publishers, like one or two, that just pop up like a golden ticket."

"Worth a fortune?" he teased.

"Priceless," she corrected. "And mine," she hugged the camel.

He looked down at the way she hugged the bag. "Yes, I can see that. I pity anyone who tries to take that way from you."

She showed teeth with a growl, then laughed. "Cobra has taught me many things."

Shaking his head, Hussein gave her a warning look. "Never put your life at risk. It can be replaced. Your life cannot."

"I know, but why would anyone want Hussy?" A brow shot up. "Short for Hussein.

Brows pinched together as he gave her a strange glance, arms crossed. "Are you calling that a hussy?"

"A terrible flirt with everyone he meets."

"Hmm."

"We have to take the elevators from here." They stopped at the available elevator, stepped in when it arrived and headed for the fourth floor out of seven levels, stepping out into a long corridor with windows on one side and the other rows of doors, where Nikki led the way down the hall to the last door where she opened the door with a key-card.

About to release Hussy, she stopped dead in her room, jaw dropped. She couldn't believe her eyes, clutching at Hussy against her pounding tight chest.

Hussein eased around her and scanned the spotless room. Everything looked as it should. "What's wrong?" he asked, glancing back at her. She edged into the room shocked, as if the room had been ransacked. "Sorry, I don't understand. Is something missing?"

"Everything," she gulped in a tiny voice.

Frowning he walked through the room, a basic small room with a chair in the corner, a desk along the rest of the wall, a mirror above, next to the window with the view of the Khalifa in the distance, one double bed, bedside tables on each side, bed made, television on the wall.

Tiled floors, at the other end, behind the bathroom were the mini bar and provisions for tea and coffee, kettle. The wardrobes are on one side of the entrance of the room opposite the door to the bathroom. He went to the wardrobe, while Nikki stood there stunned, watching as he opened the door revealing her clothes hanging, suitcase underneath.

"No, no, not possible." She charged across and opened the door, where the sign of do-not-disturb was still hanging. "Someone had been through my stuff," she said dazed, her hold on Hussy tightening, turning towards Hussein with wide, troubled eyes.

First the bag, now this.

"I think you will find it was housekeeping."

Shaking her head, he had no clues she hadn't unpacked.

The bed was messy, clothes were scattered across the bed and a suitcase opened that she planned to clean up when she got back, not wanting the housemaids to do that.

They only made beds, cleaned bathrooms, and replaced towels, as far as she knew. Not that she had stayed in too many hotels, only when Vincent had no other choice but to bring her along. Something he preferred not to do.

Hussein looked down at her with concern. "Why not?" She pointed at the sign on the outside of the door. "They still could have cleaned it."

Her hold tightened around her camel more if possible, eyes wide she stared at the crease-less bed, where before it looked like it had been hit by a cyclone, then eyed off the area for the coffeemaker space that was cleared of her snacks she had brought from home, crossing over to open the bar fridge to find some of them, the others in drawers beside, gulping.

No staff would dare touch anything that belonged to the paying guests.

Someone had cleaned up her room and placed everything away. Touched her belongings, unless one had a personal maid or butler, or it was requested at the five-star hotels. Even that was rare.

"Let me see to this," Hussein reached for the house phone, calling reception, speaking in Arabic. Soon to have management in her room. Not something she had expected, and she wasn't one to cause a fuss.

After questioning the head housekeeper for the area, for this section of the hotel, no one had been in her room after it had been prepared for her arrival. "That's the problem. I hadn't hung any clothes, they were scattered over the bed. My treats were left on top mini bar, beside the coffee maker, leaving the do not disturb sign on the door. I was going to place it all away when I came back. I'm not the neatest person. I know they won't touch anyone's belongings, especially spread across the bed. They won't even make the bed. It's like someone had ransacked my room in reverse," she gulped, rubbing the nape of her neck with a trembling hand.

Even to her, it sounded strange.

Eyes darting around from one to another, not sure what they were thinking, both speaking in Arabic. Clutching at her arms, she turned around and headed towards the window, where she saw the Khalifa tower in the far distance.

Shuddering, her fingers dug in, hairs standing up on her arms.

This was supposed to be an adventure but not like this. If someone had been in her room, correction had been, unless the room fairies waved a magic wand. She had nothing of importance for this kind of interest. Her papers and passport were in the hotel safe.

Her credit card is kept with her in Hussy.

Book Hussein alert sensors would be in red. 

They probably think she is some crazy foreigner. Too much sun and hadn't realised she had cleaned up, which she hadn't. What she needed was a drink, heading for the fridge where she removed a small bottle of water that she twisted off the top, closed the door with her hip, opened a drawer and stared at a folded note, that she opened and closed, scrunching it up in her hand.

A complimentary note from management.

Maybe she got it wrong.

Removing a glass, she closed the door.

"Look, don't worry about it. Maybe some kind of neat freak saw my room when I departed and slipped in as I walked away."

Hussein glanced across. "Do you believe that?"

"To be on the safe side, we will move you to another room," the manager stepped in. "The thought of anyone getting into a room is disturbing."

Not unless you have the right equipment that overrides key cards. Or a duplicate card. Hers had never left her sight, placed in the slot to work the lights. She was beginning to doubt herself, apart from the fact that, as she looked around the room, taking a sip of water, she hadn't cleaned her room.

She was never this tidy, even when she packed away her belongings. Never put her treats away, always had them nearby, easy to grab one when she wanted. Small packets of chips, nuts and chocolates.

The suitcase always stayed in the room, open for her shoes and underwear that she could just grab in some corner, so as not to trip over, never in the wardrobe. Wandering over into the bathroom, her toiletry bag off to the side zipped up. No toothpaste or brush was placed on the vanity bench.

No, she hadn't placed her belongings away. If she didn't know better, she would say mind games. That didn't make sense. She knew no one. Her first trip away by herself, leaving the country. What if she had been followed?

How would she know?

Not something she would be looking out for, a tag.

Someone had, whoever had been in her room, one who wasn't staff, unless one who won't admit to it. To be honest, she didn't want to stay here, in this particular room, feeling violated.

Walking back out, took another sip, glancing across, ready to accept such an offer, apart from the fact that Hussein was on the phone, speaking rapidly in Arabic, she guessed by the foreign language and being in the Middle East.

Book Hussein spoke many languages fluidly. Maybe all this was her overactive imagination because of the book Hussein. Normally, she devoured a book. This time she planned to savour every word, pausing to ponder every moment, absorbing.

She was in his city, the country where he was based.

She had to stay focused.

This was happening to her unless they had the wrong person and room. That made sense, looking around the room with new eyes. Maybe it hadn't been about her, but the room?

Then why grab Hussy?

A girl barely looking like a woman on her own, carrying a camel backpack, an easy target. Surely a separate issue. Not like the book Hussein, who connected everything. She had to believe that. Surely not? He had promised her to give her time to follow her dream. This was it.

Decision made. "I'm fine. I'm staying here," she declared. Hussein stopped talking. The manager stared at her in shock. "No one is going to scare me away. I am sure I'm perfectly safe here and there has to be an explanation for this."

"Yes, yes," the manager agreed. "However, we will put you in our more inaccessible room for your protection."

"I can't afford it. This is what I could get at bargain prices. I don't want you out of pocket."

"We won't be," she was promised. "Your room would be packed up and taken upstairs if you would allow our staff to see to your needs?" she nodded because their jobs meant more than taking the risk of losing it. Most of the staff were foreigners themselves, working to send money home from poorer countries.

Most of the staff in Australia were barely making enough to live, as it was pointed out to her, getting a basic job with minimal wage, with her lack of skills and education.

Nope, it stops here.

She wasn't going to let this upset her trip, yet the book Hussein niggled her mind. He never believed in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason, especially when it happens to one person more than once.

Hussein spoke into the phone and shut down. "Please let me look over Miss Nikki's room," he offered.

"Of course. We will set up twenty-four-hour surveillance of the room." Her lips parted ready to protest when the book Hussein tapped her on the shoulder. Visual evidence was important.

"Thank you, that sounds wonderful. I hate causing such a fuss," she added because she did. "However, can I pack my bag?" That nagging feeling. Good girl, the book Hussein praised. "I need a few moments to myself," releasing a long breath.

"Do not answer the door to anyone. I will knock three times, then check the peephole." Nikki nodded, walking them to the door.

"Once you are packed, a porter will come and collect your belongings and will be escorted to the room."

"I will be with you as well," Hussein reassured.

****

Khayri's swim was ruined by such behaviour, he showered, changed and headed back to his apartment, yet still wasn't happy about what had transpired. One thing he won't tolerate is bullying in any form. That's exactly what took place today.

The more he thought about it, the angry he became that he rang management, and if they didn't do anything, he would go to the very top. Those women needed to learn there are consequences for their actions.

What they had done had been pure malice. Attacking an innocent like her, who wasn't hurting anyone, didn't even try to catch his attention or bother him like they had, boiled his blood.

He shouldn't get involved, and she wanted to let it go, probably even denied it had happened, yet a person should be able to look around, enjoy what was on offer, and not be seen as a sort of threat for attention.

It had happened so quickly, yet there had been no doubt that she had been tripped, even if she didn't realise it at the time, or wouldn't accept it, even apologised when it hadn't been her fault.

A pushover in so many ways, he was relieved that Hussein had taken her under his wing. Not that he would or could. Life declared to him a long time ago to stay away from such innocents.

They are the ones that got hurt, yet something was pulling at him. He needs to fix this and make sure those behind what happened today will not do so again.

With one call he knew everything he needed to know, they weren't guests, yet came from an influential family, and such behaviour wasn't acceptable, especially for a friend of his. Only management knew who he was and made sure he had all the privacy he needed. They had been banned for a month. That would ruffle a few feathers, he was sure, also a wake-up call.

Don't piss him off, exactly what they had done by their bad behaviour.

Thankfully, she hadn't been badly affected by such things, more worried about her camel backpack called Hussein, than anything else, not even her dignity.

****

By the time Hussein came back, her bag was packed. Nikki was ready to move on, yet Hussein had different ideas about that. "I could set up a more secure place for you. Far too many issues here."

"You believe me?" she asked, eyes widened. She struggled to believe it herself.

"Yes, I saw your fear." Fear, she hadn't expected that. Then again, she wasn't the bravest person. Yes, fear. Make it your strength forward. Fear kept one on their toes and aware. Book Hussein tugged at her ear. However, wouldn't be scared away.

She had so much to see. Once in a lifetime chance, winning a twenty-five thousand lottery ticket had allowed her to do this, also still on a budget. What she wanted to see wouldn't cost that much, places, souks, without the death-defying antics until now.

She had this, even if alone, she understood how the Middle East worked and would play by their rules. Not from the book Hussein, but from research on the dos and don'ts of the Middle East.

Also, she wasn't alone. She had Hussein in her corner. Someone she could call on when needed, hugging him. "Thank you for everything you have done for me." Then stepped back. "I know that's not allowed. I'm not trying to be forward. I appreciate what you have done for me, a stranger. It's what we do, we hug people. I didn't mean to insult your culture."

He smiled gently. "You did not. I understand. So what now?"

"New room, I guess." She took one last look around the room to make sure she hadn't left anything behind. With Hussein at her side, she felt much more relaxed and the room that had been replaced was much larger, even had chairs and a table, also a desk with a chair with the best views, water below and framed the Khalifa perfectly in the window in the far distance.

To be honest, she wanted to crawl into bed and sleep to be refreshed for the next day's adventure. To be on the water, heading off to the souks and mingling amongst the people, feeling the vibe that came so alive from the words on the page. 

She felt she had been there, apart from the smells.

All so new to her.

The minute she had entered the plane to fly solo, she had never felt so alive. Everyone had been friendly and nice, apart from those trying to pinch Hussy. And the one who decided to clean her room, taking nothing, was rather creepy, rubbing her arms.

Neither of them involved Hussein.

Believing she was safe in her new room, leaving her case untouched, she served coffee before Hussein went on his way, still not happy about events, yet reassured him that she was fine, and had the manager's number if anything went awry.

She didn't plan to leave her room for the rest of the day.

The day was finally catching up on her.

Now alone, Nikki sank onto the bed, looking around the room like a stunned mullet, her mind trying to cope with what had happened in one day. None of it was planned, apart from her trip to be at the Khalifa. Seeing the observatory had been a bonus, even the pool, apart from the unexpected swim, taking a deep breath.

She had been tripped. Lucky for her, Hussein had caught the phone that she had tossed at him, followed by Hussy. Everything had happened in slow motion as she fell backwards into the water.

Even if Hussein's friend/boss, whoever he was, came across as aloof and unapproachable, he had saved her, looked after her, and even shared his space and private changing room. Something he didn't have to do, showing his true nature.

Not the cold customer he portrayed to the world.

The beauties who couldn't be ignored were.

Lying down, clutching at a pillow. She knew how women reacted if they felt threatened. She was no threat to anyone. There was nothing special about her that she learnt years ago and did everything in her power to be invisible.

She didn't want to be noticed, especially in a foreign country. She didn't know how she would've survived without Hussein, yet couldn't rely on him all the time.

For now, she just needed to recharge, eyes closing. Drifting off to sleep.

Tomorrow was another day.

Another adventure of Hussein Abdul's life.

****

Still not happy about the situation, Hussein saw the manager before he left, putting things into place, even organised room service for her later, changed to him before heading back to the Khalifa, straight to the apartment, where he discovered Khayri in his usual place on the sofa, tapping away.

A good sign. There had been a lot of silence lately.

Only if he knew, smiling to himself, leaving for his room where he changed into looser casual clothes, wandering back out, pausing to study Khayri, who was deep in thought, yet not his usual involvement.

Khayri rubbed the nape of his neck, head dropping back, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hussein had noticed the subtle in his writing, darker, missing his usual sense of humour. He had seen it also in his real life, not just the fictional one.

The heaviness of his shoulders, of his duty as ruler that he loved. He loved his people and country, yet was struggling. He had a feeling it was about his duty to marry and have an heir.

Having a family would never worry him.

It's about finding the right wife.

And Hussein Abdul suffered for it.

There had to be a reason behind it, not sure what. Surely not his past? That was years ago, yet it had been a betrayal. Then he thought of Nikki. Maybe she was just what he needed. His reaction at the pool was who he was, and cared about others, especially the innocents.

He went to his private area, saw to her needs, making sure she was safe, and even offered his changing room to shower as she waited for her freshly cleaned clothes.

All things he didn't have to do.

Pity he didn't see it.

Maybe it was time he did, in two minds, not sure of his reaction. Time to test the waters, heading in further as Khayri stretched and then back on the laptop, tapping again, hit by another idea by the looks of things.

"You should be nicer to her. It seems you have a..." he paused before saying fan. 

Not that would be in her favour.

"That's why I keep a distance from the public, out of my jurisdiction. As for the other, I have seen to that. I hope we don't have another such incident. Anyway, I'm sure our paths will not cross again."

"Are you sure you want to stay away from such an interesting muse?"

"You are growing tiresome, my friend."

"And you have turned me into a hussy." Khayri glanced across from the sofa, away from the laptop on his outstretched legs.

"Always thought you were," he teased, then frowned. "Why all these cryptic statements? Fan? Ahh, I see. A Sam Walker fan."

"No, a Hussein Abdul fan. The reason she's here and the camel is named after him. Hussy for short. Even thinks that Sam Walker isn't a Westerner, but one of us." Khayri's eyes widened, dread in his eyes.

"No, that cannot be."

"No us per se. As in our nationality. Just like your Middle Eastern hero. It had to happen one day," Hussein smiled, enjoying himself, much to Khayri's disgust.

"I will be moving out soon." Hussein's brows shot up.

"You're not running from one small girl with a camel bag?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he waved away. "I'm heading out into the desert to lose myself in the surroundings. Will you be joining me?"

"Um, no, there is something I have to look into." Khayri gave him a searching look. "Personal."

"Can I help?" No matter what, they were more like brothers.

"No, you need to finish the next Hussein Abdul book. Your number one fan is waiting."

"There is a new book out." He dismissed with a waving hand, head back down, frowning.

"I know," Hussein headed towards the kitchen with a knowing smile.