by Laura Wright
Just as Jane was about to agree, Bobby took that particular moment to ride up. He slipped from the stallion’s back and joined them. “Who’s a fool?”
“I was saying this about our brother,” Zayad told Bobby, his chin lifted as though he was the only human being alive who was allowed to say so.
Leaning against the fence, Jane looked at the ground. “He’s no fool. He’s just being protective—in his own irritating way, of course.”
“Does he have reason to be protective?”
Jane’s head came up. Zayad was staring at her, then he turned to look at Bobby, one dark eyebrow raised.
Bobby’s mouth thinned with anger. “Your sister is more than capable of handling whatever’s thrown her way.”
Zayad nodded slowly. “Yes, I believe she is. She is Al-Nayhal, after all.”
“Yes, she is,” Bobby agreed.
A heavy weight sat on Jane’s shoulders, on her heart and soul, as well. Bobby had offered neither a yes nor a no to Zayad’s question about her needing to be protected. It was possible that Bobby thought the query insulting or maybe he was just too angry at the Al-Nayhals to give any of them a sign of his sincere feelings regarding their sister—Jane didn’t know. But that quick, jabbing fear she seemed to experience every time she thought about Sakir’s warning and Bobby’s feelings reared its unwelcome head once again.
“Mariah is downtown at a restaurant called the Willow Tree.” Zayad’s words broke through Jane’s uneasy fog. “Will you join us for a late lunch? Tara as well, if she is free.”
“My mother’s with a friend right now,” Jane explained, thinking of Tara around the small kitchen table smiling as Abel read her another chapter of Don Quixote. “And there isn’t much that’ll tear her away from him.”
Zayad gave a nod of understanding, then turned to look at Bobby. “Mr. Callahan, would you care to join us?”
“I don’t think so,” Bobby said, his face stoic.
“Yes, that would be wonderful,” Jane said, true excitement in her tone. She turned to Bobby. “C’mon, Bobby. Mariah’s my very best friend in the world. She’s beautiful and pregnant and funny and a great lawyer.” A wide grin split her features. “And if you’re real lucky, maybe she’ll tell you how she and Zayad met. He moved in next door to us in California and pretended to be just an average Joe. It’s a very funny story.”
With a quick roll of the eyes, Zayad explained, “Not one of my finer moments. But I received a most precious gift. My wife and a mother for my son, Redet, and our baby to come.”
“So deception brought you good fortune,” Bobby said, his voice threaded with a lighthearted antagonism that made Jane’s stomach churn.
Zayad’s face turned to stone. “Pardon me?”
Around them a breeze blew. It was neither cool nor hot, and was scented with aging hay. “Just remarking that deceit for profit seems to run in your family, that’s all.”
“Bobby!” Jane said sharply, shocked at his rudeness. But she was allowed nothing else as Zayad turned on the cowboy.
“You do not insult the family of Al-Nayhal.” Zayad warned.
With a cold frown, Bobby nodded. “Whenever I can.”
As Jane tried to think of what to say next, her belly as tight as a trap, the two men stared at each other. Both exceptionally tall, one all lean muscle, the other brawny and steeped in a bitterness he refused to climb out of.
“Bobby,” Jane began hesitantly, not exactly sure what to say or do to diffuse the situation. She hardly thought a good punch in the stomach would be appropriate, but she was so frustrated at his attitude, she wished she could.
But Bobby didn’t stay long enough for a word or a jab. “I have work to do,” he uttered, then turned away, led the stallion toward the other end of the ring, tossing a tart, “Enjoy your lunch,” over his shoulder.
Jane didn’t want to look at her brother. She knew what was coming, what he was about to say, and she didn’t blame him. When Zayad touched her shoulder, she found his gaze. “Jane, I do not wish to say this, but I think Sakir may be right.”
She shook her head. “No. You don’t understand. Bobby’s had a hard time of it, Zayad. He’s lost his land, his father, his sister. He’s lashing out at the family he thinks is responsible for his destruction.”
“Yes, I agree. And you, my girl, will no doubt get caught in the crossfire.”
“I don’t believe that,” said Jane, not thoroughly convinced. “But even if I do, it’s my choice to make.”
Zayad nodded at long last. “On this point, we agree.”
“I want to help him.”
“You love him that much?”
She nodded. “Will you wait for me in the car?” With a quick, grim smile Jane excused herself from Zayad and went after Bobby. She found him at the other end of the corral, lightly slapping a dusty pad against the horse’s side. She wasted no time, her anger now free to show itself.
“What was that?”
He didn’t look at her. “That was pissed off.”
“At what? Zayad’s done nothing to you.”
“It’s the attitude, Jane,” he said, glancing up, his blue eyes filled with the same ire she always saw when they spoke about the past. “It’s the belief that good things come to those who lie and cheat. If someone’s going to deceive someone else…” he paused, shook his head.
“What?” asked Jane uneasily. She felt desperate to understand him, help him, heal him. If only he’d let her. If only she could grasp the real Bobby, the one who cared for her, and stamp out the one who hated her family, maybe they’d have a chance.
“Well, they should only expect to get their ears boxed,” said Bobby, his fist tight around the pad. “Get what they deserve for hurting someone else.”
“When Zayad came to California to see me, he was only trying to find out who I was. He knew that deceiving us about his identity was wrong and immoral, and he asked Mariah and me to forgive him. He’s more than paid his debt to Mariah.”
Grabbing the rope that had been tossed over the fence, Bobby said sullenly, “The particulars are none of my business.”
“Maybe not, but when you make judgments—”
“They’re fair judgments, Jane,” said Bobby, turning on her, his gaze fierce. “A lie is a lie.”
“The world’s not that black and white,” said Jane in apple-crisp tones.
“It is to me.”
She stared at him, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. His conviction for the truth impressed her, but the solid sourness that resided in his eyes made her wince in frustration. “We’re obviously at an impasse,” she said finally, feeling a wave a gloom move through her gut. Did they even stand a chance of making it? “I’m going to go now.”
When she turned on her heel and started away from him, he reached out, grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. For several moments, he held her close, his breathing slow and steady. Jane closed her eyes and allowed herself to melt into him.
“Darlin’?”
The husky endearment caused the cold navy blue of Jane’s heart to warm into a soft pink. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Come back. After you see your friend.” He eased back, bent his head and nuzzled her mouth. “I’m an angry bastard, but I need you, Jane. I need you so damn much.”
The torture in his voice, the desperation in his tone, and the love she had for him in her heart made her weak. She let him hold her, let his mouth cover hers, let her weariness of spirit turn into a tumbling sense of desire. “I’ll be back.”
Twisted and confused, Jane pushed away from him. The walk from the corral to the driveway to the man waiting for her in his shiny, black Mercedes was one of the longest and, strangely, the loneliest, of her life.
“May I say it again?”
Jane laughed at her glowing best friend as they walked down Grand Avenue after their late lunch. The day was slowly turning into evening, but the warm sun filtered through the
trees lining the sidewalk with fierce determination. “Okay. Say it again if you feel you must.”
With a dramatic sigh, Mariah put a hand to her growing belly and said wistfully, “I miss your tapioca pudding something awful.”
Again, Jane laughed, and the sound moved through her like music. Ever since she’d found out that the man living next door to her and Mariah was not only the sultan of a foreign land, but her brother, ever since she’d left her home in California, Jane had been walking on a tenuous cloud. She’d missed the girlfriend banter with her childhood friend. It felt comfortable and familiar and it made her feel as though she could open up in ways she never could in Emand—or at Sakir’s home.
“So, no pudding in Emand?” Jane asked.
“Of course,” Mariah said as she proceeded to count off on her fingers. “Mango pudding, coconut pudding, the chef even managed a pretty fabulous chocolate pudding. But when he attempted tapioca…” She said no more, only rolled her lips under her teeth and shook her head.
“Well, we’ll have to remedy that right now,” Jane told her, giving her a wry wink. “But first, butter pecan.”
“Oh, I thank you and my baby thanks you,” Mariah said with a greedy little giggle as she tucked her arm in Jane’s. There was a moment of silence as they headed toward the ice cream shop, then Mariah inhaled and said slowly, “Just so I know, when I do get my pudding, where do I need to pick it up?”
Shaking her head, Jane chuckled. “That was a smooth segue.”
“Thank you,” said Mariah proudly, flipping her blond hair. “I’m learning quite a bit from Redet, and from that old windbag of a P.R. man at the palace.”
“Not to mention the kids you represent in court, right?”
“Kids are the very best at changing the subject—but I have to say that you come in a close second.”
Jane gave her friend a wide grin. “All right. I’m staying with Bobby Callahan.”
“Yes, I’ve heard the reports. You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Nope.” The unease that had been running through Jane’s blood on a daily basis didn’t feel nearly as frightening to admit when she was with Mariah. “But I’m in love.”
“Yeah, that’ll pretty much wipe out all good sense.” Mariah wiggled her eyebrows. “And I only know this from personal experience.”
“The thing is, he’s a good man, Mariah. Loving and kind and sexy and, well…he makes me feel needed and desired. I’ve never felt like this about anyone in my life. I want to be his other half, share his life here…if he wants me.”
“Really? You think you might want to stay in Texas? No Emand with your best friend?”
“Tara is really starting to love it here, and…well,” A warm flush surged into Jane’s cheeks and belly. “Emand makes a great honeymoon destination.”
Mariah came to an abrupt halt in front of the ice-cream store. Totally unaware of the throngs of people herding in and out of the glass doors with their double scoops and banana splits, she asked, in all seriousness this time, “Do you think he’s going to ask you to marry him?”
Jane shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. It’s what I fantasize about, if that means anything. Bobby cares about me, I know that much. But he has a lot to work through, people to forgive—his father’s choices to come to terms with. But the way Sakir and Zayad talk, it’ll be a miracle if Bobby and I end up together.”
In all good friendships, there comes a point in time when one party needs to hear a word or two of encouragement, whether the other person believes what she’s saying or not. This was one of those times, and as always, Mariah curled around her friend in an emotionally indulgent way.
“I don’t care what anyone says, Jane—or what they believe to be true. I want you to be happy. If you love this man, then you have to fight for that love, right?”
Hope swelled within Jane and she nodded. “Right.”
“Now,” Mariah began with a tough smile. “With that said, if Bobby Callahan ever hurts you, Sakir and Zayad will have to climb over me to get to him.”
Jane couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing.
“Let’s get that ice cream,” said Mariah, making for the doors. “If this child doesn’t get a nutritious meal soon, he or she is going to kick me into oblivion.”
Thirteen
The days leading up to little Daya’s Welcome to the World party rolled over on each other like a carpet. By Friday, Jane thought her head might explode with all the information, recipes, times and worries she had crammed into her brain. Her body felt slightly drained from so much prepping, cooking and discussions/arguments with the decorator. But it looked as though the party would go off without a hitch and, though tired, Jane felt very pleased with herself.
Her relationship with Sakir, however, was not doing nearly as well. Jane had wondered if she and her brother would have some time to talk, maybe settle a few matters, since she worked under his roof nearly every day. But Sakir stayed in his office most of the time, and when he did emerge, all he offered her was a quick hello as they passed each other in the house. Even as she was immersed in party planning, she missed their talks, his funny, starchy ways and his brotherly presence.
As she drove away from his home the night before the party, she wondered if they’d ever be friends again, if he’d ever welcome her into his home as his family.
The weathered KC Ranch sign gave her a dusty, encouraging smile as she passed through the gates. If she were to be honest with herself, she’d admit that Sakir’s house would only be a place to visit now anyway. How she viewed “home” had changed the moment she’d moved into Bobby’s house. Against her better judgment, she’d been referring to the ranch as her home for some time now, and actually felt a thrill when she pulled up and saw the lights flicker in the open windows.
She didn’t even bother heading over to the cabin. Three days ago, when Tara and Abel had returned from their night under the stars with looks of total adoration on their happy faces, they’d all made a silent agreement. Tara and Abel would have the cabin and Jane and Bobby would have the house. Sometimes they took meals together, sometimes not. It was smooth and easy and Jane had never seen her mother so happy.
Jane pulled back the screen door and sighed as she entered the house. “Do I smell pizza?”
“You do.”
The sight before her was like something out of a dream. Looking thoroughly pleased with himself, Bobby stood beside the couch, big and sexy and rough in his faded jeans and pale-green T-shirt, a delicious smile on his lips. And in front of him, on the coffee table, was a hot mushroom and pepperoni pizza, a bottle of wine and a few videos stacked up on top of each other.
“Oh, I love you!” she said in a rush, then glanced up sheepishly.
Bobby raised an eyebrow and grinned.
“You know what I mean,” Jane said, forcing a casual tone to her voice.
“No. What do you mean?”
Acting coy, she strolled over the kitchen table and dropped her things on the rough wood surface. “A starving woman will say anything. She’s got a mental block that only nourishment will banish.”
“Only nourishment?”
She grinned as she watched him move toward her, take her hand in his. “I didn’t say what I was hungry for.”
“Yes, you did, darlin’. It’s in your eyes.” He guided her over to the couch and motioned for her to have a seat. “Haven’t eaten a thing all day, have you?”
“I think I had some peanuts around ten,” said Jane, dropping onto the soft cushion.
“Pathetic.”
“They were organic.”
He chuckled, opened the pizza box, took out a slice and slipped it onto a plate. “Here.” He handed her the plate, then filled a glass with wine.
As she ate her slice with gusto, she said, “You better be careful, Callahan.”
“Why’s that?”
“I could get used to this.”
With an easy grin, he handed her the glass of
wine. “Drink up.”
The slow, delicate currant flavor of the merlot went to work in a hurry. Feeling relaxed and happy, Jane fell back against the couch cushions and eyed her hunky cowboy. “I want to ask you something, and I want you to promise to think about it before you fly off the handle.”
He snorted. “I don’t fly off the handle.”
“On this subject you do.”
“You want me to teach one of your brothers to ride?” he asked, his eyes filled with grim amusement.
“Something easier than that.” She grinned, her eyebrows rising hopefully. “Come to the party tomorrow night.”
“No,” said Bobby succinctly. He smiled brightly. “See, no flying off the handle.”
“There was also none of the suggested thinking, either.”
“C’mon, Jane,” said Bobby, tossing a second slice of pizza onto his plate. “Why would you want another batch of stress added to your night?”
“I don’t. I want you.” The limb she was going out on felt shaky, but she pressed on. “I want you there, supporting me.”
He sighed.
“All-you-can-eat desserts,” she tempted, grinning.
“Even if I did agree, I wouldn’t be welcome there.”
“You’re my guest,” said Jane, sliding her plate back on the coffee table and inching closer to him. “All that needs to be said, okay?”
His gaze bored into her, a struggle going on behind his eyes. One she couldn’t name. But when she smiled at him, he returned it and shook his head. “All right. One condition.”
She gave him a quick kiss, then eased back. “Anything.”
He took the glass of wine from her and placed it on the table, then took her in his arms. “The dessert sampling starts tonight.”
He had her shirt unbuttoned, bra around her waist and his tongue circling her nipple before she could say another word.
The pearly-gray light outside his bedroom window signaled the dawn of a day he’d both anticipated and dreaded for some time. Until now, Bobby hadn’t decided when the day of reckoning—the day he destroyed the woman beside him—would come, but Jane’s invitation, her plea for his support last night, had offered him the opportunity on a cold, calculating platter.
