by Jane Toombs
He swallowed the bite and leaned toward her. “That’s not all I need to taste,” he said softly as his lips met hers.
Never mind that they’d argued, nevermind that she’d told herself she wasn’t going to succumb to any attempt at lovemaking. The reality of his mouth on hers banished everything else. He was what she needed to taste, to kiss, to hold. To love. Now.
Zed seethed with his need for her. He fought for enough control to keep from easing her to the floor and taking her without any preliminaries. Karen deserved the best he could give. Stubborn she might be, as well as irritatingly unreasonable—but that didn’t matter. Whatever Karen was, he wanted her to be his. Now.
She felt so soft against him, soft and warm and utterly desirable. He hadn’t consciously suggested this indoor picnic with making love in mind, but he couldn’t deny the idea might have been hidden somewhere in his mind. He also couldn’t deny it was a great idea.
Her skin was so much fairer than his, so white and delicate. Her eyes were the color the ocean sometimes took on, neither a true blue nor an absolute green—a beautiful shade. If he wasn’t driven by such intense need, he could gaze into those eyes for hours. Her body fit against him as though it was made for that purpose and her breasts were perfectly shaped to fit his hands. With Karen in his arms, the world faded away. She became the only thing that mattered.
After a time, caressing her through layers of cloth grew frustrating. Pushing aside the obstacle of her clothes, he put his mouth to her breast, taking in the pale pink nipple that hardened as his tongue flicked over it. Her soft moans of pleasure ignited him, driving him to more, intimate caresses.
With delirious pleasure he felt her hands undressing him; he was thrilled by the knowledge she wanted him as much as he wanted her, that she was driven by the same urgent need. All her emotions were genuine—passion, anger, affection. There was nothing fake about her. She was a woman to be trusted.
She was a woman to be loved. Or did he mean a woman to make love with? Which is what he was doing and would like to do forever if it were humanly possible. The more he held her, the more he wanted her.
When at last they lay flesh-to-flesh, the exquisite feel of her naked body drove him up and up until he reached the point of no return. Answering her whispered plea of “Please,” he rose over her. Settling himself between her thighs, he eased inside her and lost himself in their mutual journey to fulfillment.
As she lay contentedly in his arms afterward, Karen wished they didn’t have to move away from each other, not only physically but mentally, as well. Wonderful as their coming together had been, their lovemaking hadn’t resolved their differences of opinion. Not that she was angry or annoyed with him—how could she be after what had just happened- between them?
Eventually the floor grew uncomfortable and she began to be chilled by a cold draft. Forced out of her daze of happiness by physical discomfort, she suddenly realized that Mrs. Haven might arrive with the crib at any moment. Easing free of Zed’s embrace, Karen rose, gathered up her clothes and retreated to the bathroom.
Later, as they walked back to the hospital through the misty afternoon, holding hands, she said, “You seemed preoccupied after you spoke to your sister. Is something wrong?”
“Not with Jade,” he said. “There’s a problem at the ranch. I’ve had a long-term grazing agreement with the BLM—the federal government’s Bureau of Land Management—which apparently is being revoked without advance notice. When my foreman couldn’t locate me, he called Jade and she told me about it.”
Her heart sank. “That means you have to return to Nevada.”
“As soon as possible. I’ll wait for Danny to be discharged and then—”
“If it’s an emergency,” she interrupted, “you don’t have to wait. Go and take care of it. I’m perfectly capable of handling things here.”
He frowned at her. “I plan on taking you and Danny back to the ranch, with me.”
Karen shook her head. “You can’t. I mean, I have a job I can’t run out on. I’ve been gone too long as it is.”
“Don’t you get any time off for Christmas?”
“Naturally, but that’s ten days from now. I can’t ask the district to keep a substitute in my place all that time. Besides, Danny and I live in San Diego, not in Carson Valley.”
“But I thought we’d spend Christmas together at the ranch.”
Trying not to react to the tinge of irritation she heard in his voice, she said, “You’re welcome to visit us at Christmas.”
“Why can’t the two of you come to the ranch?”
Why couldn’t they? Truth be told, she would like to. On the other hand, it might be best to put some time and distance between them. She needed to slow this headlong rush into a relationship that she feared might break her heart when it ended. Her heart and Danny’s, too. He was already attached to Zed.
“Don’t you think we need time to sort things out?” she asked. “First of all, the Talal problem isn’t resolved and I intend to follow through on that, even if I have to go through our ambassador in Kholi.”
“Time?” Zed exclaimed, “Why do we need time? If you want to give anyone time—Talal’s the one. Haven’t you been listening? I told you he’ll be back.”
“When pigs fly and hens crow,” she snapped, jerking her hand free of his and halting on the sidewalk to glare at him. “I’m not coming to Nevada, not now, nor at Christmas. All we’d do is argue, anyway.”
He half smiled. “That’s not all we’d do, and you know it.”
Not wanting to admit that was part of the problem—her fear of involving herself too deeply in the relationship—she simply shook her head and resumed walking.
“Stubborn woman,” Zed muttered, but she ignored him, trying to hold on to her anger so she wouldn’t feel so much pain when they did part.
At the hospital Dr. Nelson hadn’t yet been by to see Danny. When he did come, he briefly examined the boy. “Danny looks better every day,” he said. “Go ahead and take him home to San Diego, but be sure to have his own doctor follow him for a few weeks. I’ll sign his release.”
Once the doctor was gone and Karen had busied herself with dressing Danny in clean clothes, Zed said, “We’re taking him to Snug Haven for the night. No argument.”
Much as she would like to get into the rental car right now and head for San Diego, she knew that wasn’t rational. It was already four in the afternoon and she dare not do anything that might harm Danny. Yet she dreaded spending another night with Zed.
“Danny and I may have to stay overnight, but you don’t,” she told him.
“I’ll make my own decisions.”
“Just don’t base them on the fact there’s only one bed in the room,” she said tartly.
His scowl darkened his face, giving her the odd sensation she was looking at Talal, not Zed. “I’m perfectly aware Danny will be in the the same room we are. His voice was chilly. “Do you think I can’t control myself?”
I don’t know, she thought, but I’m more worried about myself than I am you. How can I sleep with you lying next to me? How can I keep from remembering how wonderful it feels when you kiss me and hold me close?
Danny, looking from one to the other of them, began to whimper. Zed gave her an angry look and said, speaking between his teeth, “Damn it, I’ll see if Mrs. Haven has another room.”
As it turned out, she did, and Zed moved into it. As Karen lay alone in the big brass bed that night, instead of being relieved he wasn’t there next to her, she felt bereft, as though she’d lost something precious that she might never recover.
Zed, alone in his room, forced himself to concentrate on what his alternatives might be if he couldn’t negotiate a compromise with the BLM. Pretty bleak, he decided. Which exactly described his present mood. Bleak.
He’d thought Karen felt as he did, that they were on the edge of something unique, something that deserved more exploration. Apparently he was wrong, because she wanted to end their relati
onship here and now.
Maybe she was right, maybe they would all be better off. He would see her and Danny safely off in the morning and that would be the end of it. Doing his best not to acknowledge the heavy weight that seemed to have lodged itself in his chest, he told himself that neither Karen nor Danny belonged to him—she was a free agent and Danny was another man’s son. Talal’s son.
Zed turned over in bed, wishing he could turn away from the puzzle of Talal as easily. How could he be so sure Talal hadn’t fled rather than face the situation? The answer came to him as quickly as the question had. Because I wouldn’t do it; therefore, neither would he. What kind of an answer was that?
When he woke the next morning and saw the sun was up, he shook his head. The day should be cloudy, should be gloomy, not bright and cheerful. He dressed and knocked on Karen’s door. She opened it immediately, inviting him in. Danny, in the crib, raised his arms to be picked up and Zed felt his heart contract as he lifted him.
“Hey, there, Tiger,” he said huskily, “I’m going to miss you.”
“Da,” Danny said, patting his cheek. “Da, da.”
Zed took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be even tougher than he’d imagined. He looked at Karen and saw she was watching them. She turned her head before he could be quite sure whether or not he’d seen tears in her eyes.
It was her choice. She could always change her mind, he told himself. He’d stated his case—he was damned if he meant to plead with her.
Her rental car was parked behind his. By the time he had carried down her luggage and stowed it, numbness had replaced his mixed sadness and anger. He didn’t feel anything. Once Danny had been fastened into his new car seat, Zed watched Karen start to slide behind the wheel, hesitate and get out. She took several steps, closing the gap between them.
“Goodbye, Zed,” she said.
He’d made up his mind not to touch her or kiss her, but the quiver in her voice undid him. He lifted his hand to her cheek. When he touched her, Karen flung herself at him. His arms went around her automatically, holding her close for a long, poignant moment.
As soon as she made a motion to free herself, he released her and stepped back. Finding goodbye impossible to get out, he swallowed and said, “Good traveling, Karen.” Turning away, he slidinto his car, where he sat while she pulled from the curb. He didn’t start the engine until he could no longer see her car.
Before moving, he punched the steering wheel three times and swore. Because he couldn’t vent his frustration against Karen, he muttered, “Damn it, Talal, you’d better prove me right.”
As he said the words, a picture formed in his mind, so real he seemed to relive the moment. The red ball arcing up when he threw it. A young boy running to pick it off the sand when it fell. Not Talal, a boy he couldn’t put a name to. “Nisf!” the boy shouted tauntingly, grabbing the ball and running off with it. With the image still vivid in his mind, Zed suddenly realized that was the word he sometimes said when he was upset. Furthermore, for the first time he knew exactly what nisf meant. Half. The boy had insulted him by calling him half.
Zed blinked, shaking his head, orienting himself to the reality of his surroundings. There was no red ball, no sand, no taunting boy. He was parked in front of Snug Haven in Monterey. Shaken, he puzzled over what had happened. A memory, long suppressed?
If he thought about it, the image wasn’t as mysterious as it seemed. He’d been born in Los Angeles and moved to Nevada when he was four. Southern California had lots of sand—desert and beach sand—and there were innumerable red balls in the world. A boy of three or four might well remember another kid taking his ball. It all fit except for the word.
“Nisf,” he whispered. He’d bet a bundle that the word was Arabic for half.
What had Talal said? One, split in two by Allah’s will Making half.
Chapter Twelve
Zed’s first week back at hisranch wasn’t too bad. He plunged into the struggle to persuade the BLM to rethink the grazing-rights decision, meeting with other Carson Valley area ranchers, finally hiring a lawyer to represent the coalition they formed. Adding this extra activity to his regular ranch duties kept him tired enough to sleep at night. The problem was, he remembered his dreams when he woke up, and Karen was erotically featured in all of them.
Not until the second week did he begin to have worrisome dreams about Danny being in danger and needing rescue. These seminightmares roused him early in the morning, and he rarely was able to drop back to sleep. The dreams haunted him after he got up and, combined with a lack of sleep, made him jumpy and irritable.
Jade finally took him to task. “Why don’t you call Karen before you lose every friend you ever had? My patience is running low—keep this up and pretty soon you’ll have an estranged sister. If you don’t call Karen, I will.”
“No! This is none of your business.”
“Then for heaven’s sake, take care of it,” she snapped.
Still he held off. With Christmas hovering in the wings he didn’t want to hear Karen’s voice and know she was hundreds of miles away from him—by her own choice.
Three days before Christmas Jade appeared while he was brooding over his morning coffee, causing a hasty rush to the bedroom to grab his sweatpants.
“I decided you needed an early present,” she told him, handing him an envelope tied with a red ribbon. “Stop frowning and thank your kind and generous sister for driving through the snow just to offer you some badly needed preholiday cheer.”
“The roads are clear,” he observed grumpily, resuming his seat at the table.
Jade raised her eyebrows. “Not up where I live. Is this all the thanks I get for trying to rescue you from what Grandma used to call the dismals?”
“Sorry,” he said, meaning it. Jade meant well, and he had no right to dump on her.
She plopped down in a chair across from him and gestured at the envelope he’d set on the table. “Go ahead—open it. I can’t stand the suspense.”
He untied the ribbon and slid a finger under the envelope flap, lifting it, then shook out the contents, finding, in a packet decorated with ornamented trees and Santa Clauses, the unmistakable tan-and-green oblongs of plane tickets. Glancing at them, he noted his name and the des-tination. San Diego.
“Well?” Jade asked when he didn’t immediately respond. “Where are your cries of joy? Your exclamations of eternal gratitude? I did, after all, provide you with a return trip, too—though it was a close call. The way you’ve been acting lately, I was tempted to get rid of you permanently by buying only a one-way ticket.”
“The flight’s Christmas Eve,” he said finally.
“Don’t think that didn’t take some doing! So I refuse to listen to any guff about not using those tickets. Any more complaints and I just may decide to disown you once and for all.”
Zed stared down at the tan-and-green oblongs lying on the table in front of him. “It’s not a good idea,” he muttered.
“Nonsense. It’s the best idea I’ve had so far this year. In case you’re going to come up with the excuse that Karen may not be home—forget it. I happen to know she will be.”
Zed’s head jerked up. “You called her!” he accused.
“Easy, brother mine. Don’t get hyper. ‘Twas merely a friendly woman-to-woman chat. I didn’t even mention your name. All I did was ask how she and Danny were and, in my usual subtle fashion, make sure she wasn’t going off somewhere for the holidays.”
“You haven’t been able to mind your own business since you were old enough to talk,” he grumbled.
Jade set her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, her green gaze reminding him of Danny’s. “No sister worth her salt sits by and lets her favorite brother go down the tubes,” she told him.
“I’m your only brother.”
“So far. Am I wrong or did you say Talal might be related to us?”
“Apparently he is.” He didn’t want to talk about Talal,
not even with Jade. “I appreciate the thought behind the tickets, sis, I really do. But if Karen wanted to see me she’d have given some sign of it.”
Jade sat back and rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious. If that’s true, why did she bother to ask me how you were? And don’t tell me she was merely being polite. Not when she bent over backward to make the question seem oh, so casual. Why in God’s name are the two of you making yourselves so miserable?”
Zed couldn’t hold back his questions any longer. “How is she?” he asked. “How is Danny? I’ve been having bad dreams about him.”
“Karen claims they’re both fine, but she did say Danny’s been waking up at night and crying—something he hadn’t done before unless he was cutting a tooth or had a fever. The doctor assured her there’s nothing wrong with him, but she worries about it.” Jade eyed Zed levelly. “Personally, my bet is he misses you.”
Zed felt as though his heart clenched like a fist in his chest. Could his sister be right? The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to make Danny unhappy.
“I asked Karen to come and live with me,” he said. “Her and Danny. She turned me down flat.”
“Sweeten the offer,” Jade advised, brushing back a lock of hair that had slipped over her eye.
He wasn’t about to plead. To anyone. For anything. “I don’t get on my knees to anyone,” he said stiffly.
“Too bad. If you tried that and said the magic words, it might just work.”
He blinked in confusion. Please and thank you were what Grandma had called the magic words, but Jade obviously wasn’t referring to them.
“Never mind, it’ll come to you,” she said. “Because you’re, my friend as well as my brother, I sometimes forget men tend to be far more literal minded than women.” She sprang up from her chair, came around the table and kissed him on the cheek. “I have to run. I warn you—use the tickets, or else!”
After she was gone he turned the tickets over in his hands. God knows he wanted to see Karen again. And Danny. He couldn’t be fonder of the boy if he really was the kid’s father. Remembering Danny’s word for him— Da—he sighed, almost feeling a tiny hand patting his face.
