He’d felt instant attraction for a few women in the past. Even for a guy who prided himself on self-control, it happened. But nothing like this. The feeling was hot, flowing through his veins in a thermal current.
Regret slid through him like a cold shower. He wasn’t going to act on his baser instincts. He wasn’t going to take advantage of a woman who thought she was a genie—or lied compulsively to get what she wanted. His sister, Marge, was the one who picked up strays. Not Parker.
But he wasn’t so noble that he would turn her in to immigration for illegal entry. It had been obvious all during dinner that the kids needed a woman around, someone sympathetic who knew a lot more about raising children than he did. He’d just have to learn to keep his hands to himself and a handle on his thoughts.
* * *
THE CHILDREN HAD GONE to bed and the house was quiet as Nesrin stood in the front yard, enjoying the warm velvet of a summer night caressing her cheeks. She tilted her head back. Frogs and crickets called from the trees and grasses that surrounded Parker’s house, setting up a chorus that masked the sounds of the restless horses in the corral. The air was tangy with the scent of pine and low-growing sage. After all the lonely years, she was finally in an oasis of tranquillity beneath a sky filled with stars.
She had all but forgotten how bright the dome of a night sky could be. No fear here of eternal darkness, only the wonder of the movement of the planets above the earth, and the quest for what those movements might foretell for her future.
Behind her she heard the squeak of the screen door and booted footsteps on the porch.
Parker. The name trembled through her awareness like a shimmering star.
He didn’t speak, though she knew he stood not far from her. His silence settled as warmly around her as the sweet-smelling air and she caught his musky aroma, leather and something very male. She absorbed his essence through her pores along with the vast grandeur of the land. Without knowing it, this was a place she had always wanted to be.
“You were good with the kids tonight.” His voice was low and oddly rough, so intimate it did not disturb the night.
“Even when weary from a long journey, they are easy children to love.”
“For you, maybe. I’m not used to having kids around.”
She turned at the sharp twist of bitterness in his words. “You have never married?”
“Yeah, I was married. She didn’t want to ruin her figure by getting pregnant.”
“That seems a strange thing for a woman to say.” Even more troubling to learn Parker had a wife whom Nesrin had not seen. “Your wife...the women’s quarters are somewhere nearby?”
“We’re divorced.”
“You set your wife aside?” she said, aghast at the cruelty of a man sending his wife away as though she were nothing more than an aging pack animal, easily discarded.
He laughed in a way that held no humor. “She married me thinking I’d be a general like my father and she’d have all the perks that went with the job. Some women thrive on having the wives of junior officers kowtowing to them. And I think Joyce pictured me as being Chief of Staff, dinners at the White House, that sort of thing. As soon as I shattered my ankle and had to resign from the army, she knew my career was over. So she called it quits for our marriage, too.”
Nesrin could scarcely imagine a woman leaving a man like Parker. Certainly, among her people, she knew he would have been a leader. He moved with authority and had already demonstrated bravery when he had raced to save little Amy from the runaway horse. That he had been injured surprised her for she had detected no weakness at all.
“The gods must have wondered at her foolishness,” Nesrin said, reproachful of the unseen woman.
She thought he smiled then, a slow curving of his mouth that crept up his face and stirred a fluttery warmth somewhere in her midsection, like the wings of invisible butterflies.
“I’ll tell her you said so next time she asks for an increase in her alimony check.”
She smiled back at him, though she doubted he could see her clearly. “You must not worry about the children. They already care for you. Kevin wants to please you so much he has begun to imitate how you walk and the way you sit at the table.”
“I don’t know. To me, with that darn ponytail of his and the sloppy way he dresses, he looks like the kind of kid who’d never make it through boot camp. He’s mischief on the way to happening.”
“He is only nine years old,” she observed.
“I suppose.” Parker lifted his hip to rest it on the split rail fence separating the yard from the rest of the ranch. Nesrin, he noted, had found a pair of Marge’s jeans. They were a size or two too big and she’d used a silken scarf for a belt. She created a very appealing picture in the starlight, the silhouetted flair of her hips, the swell of her breasts in a T-shirt that fit a lot snugger than the jeans and her dark hair so long it hung to her waist.
Curious why she should have been so anxious to get to the States, he asked, “Don’t you have family back in your country who will be worried about you?”
“No, I do not think so,” she said thoughtfully. “In a way, it was my father who sent me away. After all these years, he would not be expecting my return.”
A peculiar response but he let it slide. “No other family?”
“Two older brothers. Quite handsome and very clever. When I was young they watched over me much as Kevin cares for his sister. I think I caused them a great deal of trouble and embarrassment. They are well rid of me, I imagine.” She shrugged nonchalantly but Parker wondered if she cared more than she let on.
“There’s no husband?” he persisted.
“Oh, no. My father had not yet arranged a marriage for me. Perhaps because—” her voice caught “—I may not have been found acceptable by any man of my class.”
An anger swift and fierce swept over Parker. He held himself back from pulling her into his arms, from telling her she was damn acceptable for any man who had eyes and she should never settle for an arranged marriage. It ought to be her choice.
Instead he said roughly, “Some guys are fools, too.”
She turned away from him, leaning her hands on the rail fence, and gazed up into the sky, but he sensed she was pleased by what he had said. There’d been a time in his life when he’d have gone after a woman like Nesrin, quirky or not. He would have had her between his sheets before she knew what was happening. That no longer seemed fair. Over the years he’d begun to question what he really had to offer a woman. Sex was a fleeting thing and love seemed beyond his capacity. He’d certainly failed miserably with his ex, though he wasn’t entirely sure he carried the whole blame for that fiasco.
He cleared his throat. “Ranching starts early around here. It’s time we turned in.”
“Yes. I’ll go in soon. I want to enjoy the fresh air for a moment or two more.”
Nesrin listened while Parker retreated up the steps to the porch and entered the house through the squeaky front door. She had wanted so much to hug him for what he’d said—for how he had understood her anguish that no man had wanted her as his bride. After all, an inept genie was hardly the kind of woman a man would select for his life’s mate.
In contrast to the views of men of her village, Parker’s words had given her so much pleasure she doubted her legs would have carried her the distance to the house without making a fool of herself in his presence.
Gathering herself, she took one last glance at the glorious sky, then went inside.
The room she’d been assigned contained a wide bed so soft she sank into the mattress as though it were a fluffy cloud. Gratefully she gazed up at the light that had no wick, that glowed softly beside the bed even as her eyelids grew heavy. She dropped off to sleep with the comforting knowledge that whenever she woke there would be light in her room, and that Parker was nearby. For the first time in a very long while, she felt doubly blessed.
* * *
PARKER JAMMED HIS PILLOW into a tight wad of
stuffing and flopped over onto his stomach. He groaned.
How was a man supposed to sleep with a woman like Nesrin right down the hall? Ten steps to her door, he mentally calculated. Thirty feet, give or take a little. A few more strides and he’d be next to her bed.
And do what? he chided himself.
Less than twenty-four hours ago she’d appeared in the back of his pickup, and since then he’d imagined ravishing her about a dozen different times. So far.
Actually, it had been kind of a continuous exercise in self-control, with more moments of high-level arousal than not.
Dragging himself out of bed long before dawn, after a mostly sleepless night, he pulled on his jeans and work boots, and tugged on a shirt. Rolling up the sleeves to mid-forearm, he decided hard work was the best way to reduce his frustration. Lucifer ought to be a satisfactory distraction for a guy who didn’t want to take a cold shower this early in the morning.
He had to admit, by capturing the wild stallion, Nesrin had probably saved the ranch for him. Suddenly it looked as if he’d soon be rid of the horrendous bank loan he’d taken out to pay off his ex-wife, and the bank wouldn’t have a chance to sell this little bit of the Rockies to some uncaring conglomerate.
He’d still have his dream.
Parker entered the corral making soft reassuring sounds to calm the mares that were bunched in one corner of the ring. His lariat dangled comfortably from his hand.
With a proud lift of his head, Lucifer snorted a challenge. He stood protectively in front of his harem.
“Easy boy. We’re just going to get acquainted for a while.”
Lucifer wasn’t interested in making friends. He pawed the ground and huffed his displeasure.
“Yeah, I know. You’re a tough guy. But I’ve met tougher.” The men who’d been under his command in Special Forces had been the same kind of uncompromising breed as Lucifer. Rugged, anxious to prove themselves and a little on the wild side. They didn’t tame easily. Parker could respect that in a man or a horse.
He cut Lucifer away from his mares. “How’d you ever let that little wisp of a woman have her way with you yesterday? Better not let that news get around, buddy. It’ll ruin your image.”
With a sound that was equal parts grunt and groan, Parker realized Nesrin had accomplished what no woman had since he’d been sixteen and filled with raging hormones—half a lifetime ago. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to keep his mind off her.
Parker worked with Lucifer, letting his lariat slide off the stallion’s rump, getting the animal used to his scent, until the pink promise of dawn lifted golden above the hills surrounding the valley. Usually by now his hired hands had put in an appearance.
Frowning, Parker ended Lucifer’s first lesson and went in search of them. As he headed for the back door, he noticed Kevin going out the front.
“Hey, Kevin, what’s up?”
He shrugged. “Nothin’.”
“You’ll stay out of trouble, won’t you?”
“Sure. I’m just looking around.”
Parker figured he couldn’t keep an eye on the boy twenty-four hours a day, and get his work done, so he let Kevin go, hoping he’d use common sense around the ranch. He supposed he was a bit edgy about the kid. After all, at that age Parker had been a magnet for trouble.
As he shoved through the back door, he realized Rusty, Pete and Buck were in the kitchen. As a rule they never came to the main house for breakfast. They ate in the bunkhouse, insisting they preferred to fix their own meals.
Now Parker discovered them crowding around in the kitchen looking like a bunch of aging hound dogs sniffing around a bitch in heat. Parker wondered why that made him so damn mad. It wasn’t as if he had any special agreement with Nesrin. She was, after all, an employee of sorts, free to talk to any man she darn well pleased. He simply wished she didn’t appear so thoroughly engrossed in the inane conversation.
Unnoticed, Parker folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. Either Nesrin was leading his hired hands around by the nose with her quick smile and the cute little shimmy of her behind, or she had lived in the remotest village in all of the MidEast. Which couldn’t be the case since she claimed she’d been part of Marge’s household. Parker knew darn well Marge hadn’t lived in a mud hut, but in a presentable house in a fair-size village.
“This here is how you get the water, ma’am,” Rusty said. He lifted the handle of the faucet and water splashed into the sink.
Startled, Nesrin jumped back. She was wearing a blue sundress tied at the waist with a silk scarf. Her quick movement started the skirt swaying, the hem brushing right at the curve of her calf, which Parker’s hand ached to palm. One dress strap slipped off her slender shoulder and unselfconsciously she lifted it back into place in a gesture another woman might have meant as a tease. Parker didn’t know what Nesrin had on her mind, but it sure as hell was grating on his imagination. He was glad the day hadn’t heated up yet, because he was already sweating.
Laughing in her clear, crystalline way, she said, “You mean I do not have to haul water from a well?”
“No, ma’am.” Rusty slid the coffeepot under the spigot. “We got ourselves a well, all right, but this here way is a whole bunch easier.”
“Oh, yes, I can see that.” She bestowed a brilliant smile on the aging cowhand.
Rusty continued explaining the fine art of coffee-making, then Pete took over to demonstrate the workings of an electric stove. Buck looked set to take on the dishwasher as his lesson in modern kitchen management when Parker called a halt to the classroom activities.
“Seems to me we have a ranch to run, gentlemen,” he said, moving into the room the way an officer converges on enlisted men who have been negligent of their duty. “And a dozen mustangs to break. If we leave the lady to her own devices, I’m sure she’ll get along just fine.”
“Yes, boss,” they said in unison. The over-the-hill gang was far too old to have been caught ogling a woman. At least they had the good sense to look sheepish as they edged out the back door. Or maybe they were simply taking their time as they got one last good look at Nesrin.
“Your friends are very nice,” she said once the others had left. It was clear Parker was not pleased with her. His scowl deepened the lines across his forehead and narrowed his oasis green eyes. He seemed tightly coiled in his anger, like a desert falcon just before he dives toward his prey. She wished she could conjure up a magical spell that would make him smile.
In her mind’s eye she imagined a grin of delight creasing his cheeks and even heard him laugh, a rough raspy sound as though his sense of humor had grown rusty with disuse. The vision seemed so real it sent a wave of pleasure through her.
Then she blinked and the image was gone.
Parker cleared his throat and rubbed his palm over his face, as if he’d been aware of her vision, too. But, of course, Nesrin wasn’t capable of casting a spell that would make this man truly smile. At least she thought such a clever deed was beyond her powers.
“Rusty and the boys kind of came with the place when I bought it a couple of years ago,” he said hesitantly, shaking his head as though coming back from some sort of a reverie. “I’m lucky to get a half day’s work out of them between games of checkers and afternoon naps on the front porch of the bunkhouse.”
“And still you do not send them away?” she asked in surprise.
He shrugged, his fingertips jammed into his back pockets. “I’d fire them, but I don’t think they have anywhere else to go.”
As gruff as Parker might sometimes seem, Nesrin noted he was also kind. Among her people, an older worker was dismissed with little thought to what might become of him—even if it meant beggary, or worse, starvation. Perhaps Parker did not even recognize the generous spirit that dwelt within him.
“Did you wish me to prepare your morning meal?” she asked, feeling a sense of admiration for Parker sweep through her, which she firmly tried to squelch. She dared not allow
herself to become too attracted to a man who might be her downfall.
“How are you with pancakes?”
She searched her memory. She had heard the word spoken in his sister’s household, but did not know the ingredients or the method of cooking such a dish. If only she had been able to peer out through the lamp she would have been far better prepared for her release into a modern world.
From outside the house came the sound of a ruckus and a good deal of shouting. A horse whinnied in alarm.
“Get away from them dern things!”
“You’re riling the horses!”
“You’re a-gonna git yourself stung, boy!”
“Help!” a child wailed.
Nesrin met Parker’s eyes for a brief instant before realization struck home.
“Kevin!” they cried in unison, and raced toward the door.
Chapter Three
At the center of the swarm of wasps, Kevin gamely tried to escape, first by swatting at them, then by turning on his heel and running away as fast as he could. Like the tail of a comet, the wasps followed him.
“Uncle Parker!” he wailed.
“I’m coming, son.”
With a frenzied whinny, Lucifer reared and clubbed the corral fence with his forelegs, making a concerted effort to release himself and his mares from the trap of the enclosure.
Parker tossed his shirt over Kevin to give the boy some protection from the wasps, leaving his own back bare, a ready target for the crazed insects.
Panic and fear clawed at Nesrin. Without giving any thought to her inconsistent abilities to cast spells, she closed her eyes and wished the wasps away with all of her might.
“I’ll be derned!” Rusty shouted. “Where’d all them birds come from?”
Birds?
Nesrin opened her eyes. Black birds filled the sky. Big, hungry black birds. Hundreds of them. They swooped in on the horde of wasps like Mongol invaders attacking remote villages through secret mountain passes. The wasps scattered. Some were gobbled up in the air, while others were knocked to the ground where the birds turned them into a more leisurely snack.
The Cowboy & The Belly Dancer (Heartbeat) Page 3
