Her Royal Bed Page 8

“I wanted to surprise you.”

  Sakir nodded deferentially. “And a very welcome surprise it is.”

  Rita smiled in agreement.

  Jane appreciated her brother and sister-in-law’s kind welcome. She’d expected Sakir to be aloof, like their brother Zayad, maybe even a little cynical upon meeting the woman who’d long ago had an affair with his father. But if he felt anything at all on that front, he masked it very well.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Jane said with undisguised passion.

  “And I’ve missed you,” Tara said, easing her daughter onto her lap. The blind woman let her fingers loose on Jane’s face. “You feel tense. What’s going on? Are you all right?”

  The fact that her mother could feel her mood always unnerved Jane. Even after her mother had lost her sight, Jane had never been able to get away with anything.

  Tara took Jane’s hand and squeezed it. “Mr. Al-Nayhal was just telling me that you were out with a man who might not be the best company.”

  Jane tossed Sakir a semi-irritated glare. “Don’t listen to my big brother, Mom. He’s just being over-protective.”

  Rita laughed. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to that, Jane.”

  An eyebrow lifted in Jane’s direction, Sakir shrugged lightly. “I merely was telling your mother the truth. And please, Tara, I wish for you to call me Sakir. We are family now.”

  Tara looked toward him, her unseeing eyes bright. “Thank you. It’s good to have family.”

  “Sometimes,” Jane said with a dry smile.

  Everyone laughed, except Sakir, who managed a tight grin. For the next forty-five minutes, they sipped wine and talked about Jane’s time in Emand, little Daya’s entrance into the world and her upcoming party. When the clock in Sakir’s library struck ten, Jane noticed her mother’s well-disguised yawn.

  “Are you tired?” Jane asked. “You had a long trip.”

  Tara nodded. “I am tired.”

  “I’ll take you up,” Rita offered kindly.

  But Jane was already helping her mother to her feet. “No, thanks, Rita. I’ll go with her.”

  “Your bags have been taken to your room,” Sakir said, then turned to Jane. “Tara is in the blue room, just down the hall from you, yes?”

  Jane nodded.

  “Goodnight, Tara,” Rita said warmly.

  Her arm through her mother’s, Jane guided the older woman upstairs. They walked several hallways chatting softly about the size of Rita and Sakir’s home, and how they could have fitted their entire house inside the main hall.

  The blue room was large and comfortable and, true to its name, had bed linens, pillows and walls done in different shades of blue. The first thing that Tara wanted to do was unpack, but, as Jane had expected, her clothes and personal effects had already been put away.

  With an easy sigh, Tara sat on the bed, her back resting against the headboard, and gestured for her daughter. “Come here, sweetie.”

  Feeling six years old, Jane crawled onto the bed and curled up beside her mother. She smelled like lavender and vanilla, and Jane let her head fall into the woman’s lap.

  “Now, tell me what’s going on,” Tara pressed gently.

  Jane told her mom about her dates with Bobby Callahan, naturally omitting the night they’d shared at the Turnbolts’ charity event. Then she went on to explain the situation between Sakir and Bobby.

  Tara took a moment before answering, but when she did her voice was soft and wise. “It seems that neither Sakir nor Bobby is in the wrong here.”

  “I know.”

  “Bobby’s story is a hard one. That’s a lot for one soul to bear in a lifetime.”

  “And he hides the pain well.”

  “Through bitterness and a good defense?”

  Jane looked up, surprised. “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s a natural response to happiness or pleasure or anything good that happens.”

  “Why?” Jane asked.

  Tara shook her head and said almost wistfully, “You feel guilty enjoying life when your other family members can’t.” Lovingly, she kissed Jane’s forehead. “Don’t you remember when we went to the beach for the first time after I’d lost my sight? Don’t you remember how you felt?”

  Undeserving, guilty. Yes, Tara was right. “Well, I don’t know if it’s anger or guilt that he feels, but whatever it is, it drives him.” Jane sat up, took her mother’s hands. “I really like him, Mom, but I can’t help wondering if Sakir’s right. Is Bobby Callahan out for more than just a few dates?” With her thoughts running over the night’s events, Jane shrugged. “Maybe it’s better if I just stay away from him.”

  Tara smiled. “Only you can make that choice.”

  “What would you do?”

  “Oh, sweetie,” Tara said on a laugh. “I couldn’t make that call. I’m in the same boat as Bobby Callahan, still steeped in bitterness.”

  “What?” Jane stared at her mother. “That’s not true.”

  “Like your friend, I hide it well. Perhaps better than most.” Tara eased Jane’s head back down to her lap. “But unlike your friend, I think I’m too old to change that part of myself.”

  Her mother’s words settled over Jane, making her feel more confused and on edge than she had when she’d entered the house earlier that night. The admission from her mother was bizarre. Jane had never imagined Tara pining and wallowing over her affliction. Jane had only seen her strong, and spouting off wise words about survival and acceptance.

  Good Lord, if her mother could fool her so, what should she think about Bobby Callahan? Would he ever change? Could he let go of his bitterness and embrace life? Did he even want to?

  Jane couldn’t help but wonder if she was seeing things, people clearly anymore—or through some rosy filter of her own making.

  “Well,” Jane began to say tightly, “it seems that I’m falling hard for a man who I’m fairly convinced can never offer me a future.”

  “It’s strange,” said Tara in an emotional voice. “Strange that our lives should follow such a similar path.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I, too, fell in love with a man who couldn’t give me a future.

  Sakir and Zayad’s father. Yes, he’d been married, the leader of a country. Totally unavailable.

  “But I have no regrets,” Tara said, leaning down and giving her daughter another kiss on the forehead. “After all, he did give me you.”

  “You call that girl of yours. Tell her to get herself out here.”

  Bobby ignored Abel’s ridiculous demand as he helped Laura Parker with her riding helmet. It was close to eight o’clock in the morning, the sun was shining brightly, and Bobby had an excited group of riders ready and waiting. For the first time since he’d taken Jane home last night, his mind wasn’t on her.

  But thanks to Abel, she was back to the forefront.

  “Said she wanted to help, didn’t she?” Abel persisted.

  “She did,” Bobby muttered.

  “Well, we’re going to need it later on today. Twice as many students as usual.”

  “We can handle things just fine.”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  Bobby threw the older man a dangerous glare. “She wouldn’t come anyway. Something tells me she doesn’t want to see me today.”

  “Why’s that? What did you do?”

  “What I always do.” He’d found a reason to distance himself from any feeling that wasn’t productive. He could handle anger or irritation or despair—even plain and simple sexual pleasure—but forging a connection between his black heart and another’s strong, healthy one had him backing off to get his bearings, and once again reaffirm what he was doing with her. Damn, why couldn’t he and Jane have stopped this the night he’d found out who she was? Bobby cussed under his breath as the reason stabbed at him. He hadn’t stopped this tryst with Jane because he had payback on his mind.

  Thing was, he hadn’t bargained on liking the woman—wanting her, yes
, but liking her, no.

  The mare beside Abel shifted and stepped on the edge of the old man’s foot. Abel swore darkly, then looked sheepish as the teenager he was helping brush down the horse lifted his eyebrows. He lowered his voice and leaned into Bobby. “You’re going to end up a lonely old goat.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Bobby shot back.

  The teenage boy chuckled, then stopped when Abel sent him a testy glare. Again, he leaned into Bobby and whispered, “That wasn’t my choice and you damn well know it.”

  Bobby swatted at a fly. “Fine.”

  “But you do have a choice, boy.”

  Bobby looked Abel straight in the eye, prepared to utter some stay-out-of-my-business comment. The older man had been with Bobby for too long. He knew too much, spoke whatever was on his mind with little thought of the impact. But Abel also had been a good friend, so Bobby curbed the need to argue and muttered a quick, “I don’t have time for this. As you said, we have a big group today,” then walked away.

  “Are you sure it’s all right if I tag along?”

  “Of course,” Jane assured her mother as she pulled one of Sakir’s cars into the driveway of KC Ranch. “Bobby’s foreman said he’d love another set of hands helping the kids with their gear and lining them up and things like that.”

  “Because I don’t want to be a burden.”

  The warm morning sun filtered through the passenger-side window, setting her mother’s pretty face in a flattering pale-yellow glow. “Mom, why are you talking like this? It’s not like you to be so—”

  “Self-pitying? I know.” Tara laughed weakly. “I’m feeling a little lonely lately.”

  “Even with all of your friends?” Jane asked as she parked the car in one of the vacant spots in front of Bobby’s house.

  Tara shrugged. “I suppose they’re not the kind of friends I want.”

  Realization dawned. “Oh.” In twenty-some years, Jane had never known Tara to be lonely, to want the comfort of a male “friend” in her life. She had always been so caught up in life, in her art and in Jane. But of course she’d want companionship, love.

  Really, who didn’t?

  Jane walked around the car and opened the door for her mother. Tara took her daughter’s hand and they walked up the path toward the house. “It’s been a long time since I put my oar in, so to speak.”

  “I don’t think much has changed. There still are sharks out there.” Jane grinned. “But every once in a while you snag a great catch.”

  Tara laughed. “I like this metaphor. Goes well with my Piscean nature.” She squeezed Jane’s hand, then said softly, “So you don’t mind? I have your blessing to date?”

  “Not that you need it, but of course you do. Go fishing, Mom.”

  “Fishing!” came a weathered, though highly masculine voice from the porch.

  Jane looked up and saw Abel Garret leaning against the railing. He smiled at them both. “You two have plans with a few horses today. No skipping out for trout, understand?”

  If he only knew to what they referred, Jane mused with a laugh. She turned to Tara, who looked a little flushed all of a sudden. “Mom, this is Abel Garret. Abel’s the foreman here at KC Ranch.”

  “Among other things.” Abel, aware that Tara was blind, shot down the stairs like a man half his age and took Tara’s hand in his own. “Pleasure, ma’am.”

  Tara groaned, then laughed.

  “What’d I say?” Abel asked Jane, perplexed.

  Jane grimaced. “Ma’am.”

  “Makes me feel very old, Mr. Garret,” Tara said, her face shining with humor and good health.

  “Ah, I see.” Abel’s gaze remained on Tara, smiling at her as if she could see him. “Don’t look a day over twenty-nine, but how bout this? How about I call you Tara and you can call me Abel?”

  Tara grinned. “Deal…Abel.”

  All of a sudden, Jane felt like a third wheel. She’d heard of such a feeling, but had never experienced it. Abel and Tara were standing close, seemingly unaware of her presence, talking quietly about the ranch and Abel’s job. They seemed not to even know that Jane was still there.

  Jane didn’t want to interrupt them, but she wanted to find Bobby. She was glad he’d had Abel call and invite her to the ranch today, glad that he’d let his wall and his pride crumble a little and admit that he wanted to see her again. Granted, she still wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen with them, but just the fact that he’d made this step gave her some hope.

  Turning to Abel she asked, “Is Bobby around?”

  Abel came out of his dream-like state long enough to nod, though his gaze remained on Tara. “At the paddock. Why don’t you head down there?”

  “Mom?” Jane said, touching her mother’s arm. “Ready?”

  “I got some lemonade up here on the porch,” Abel put in quickly. “Tara, if you’re interested…”

  “Fresh-squeezed?” Tara asked.

  Abel tried to look aghast. “This is the country, little lady. Is there anything else?”

  Tara shook her head, then said, “And by the way, I like ‘little lady.’ Much better than ma’am.”

  They both laughed, and it was Jane’s turn to shake her head. Her mother was actually flirting, full-on. Jane wasn’t sure if Abel was a shark or a good catch, but she’d definitely find out the answer from his boss.

  “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll go and find Bobby.”

  They both waved at her as she walked away, then Abel took Tara’s hand and led her up the porch steps. Jane went around the side of the house and down the path.

  The ranch was quiet, and she wondered where all the children were. Abel had told her they were understaffed today with an extra-large group of kids. Come to think of it, she mused, there weren’t many cars parked in front of the house.

  As she headed down the path and toward the paddock, she ran smack into Bobby. Surprise registered on his face. So did discomfiture and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a desperate hunger.

  “Jane.”

  “Hi.”

  He stared at her, then said a little too caustically, “What are you doing here?”

  Eight

  Jane was like a breath of cool air on his hot and sweaty skin. She made the sun shine frustratingly brighter and made his gut tighten with a need he knew would only keep intensifying in her company.

  “Abel said you could use another pair of hands.” She studied his face, a slow disappointment settling deeper and deeper into her wide green eyes. “You didn’t do the inviting, did you?”

  His jaw worked. “No.”

  She said nothing, just nodded slowly, then turned around and walked away from him.

  Bobby followed her. “Jane, wait a minute.”

  Stumbling over a large rock, she righted herself and muttered a terse, “No.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the car,” she said, her chin lifted as she stalked down the path.

  “Why? You’re here now. Stay.” He cursed under his breath. “I want you to stay.”

  She whirled around and eyed him critically. “Look, I don’t play games. Never have. I think they’re a total waste of time. You either want to see me or you don’t. And after last night, I think I deserve an answer.”

  Frustration seeped into Bobby’s pores. He spotted the barn to his right and grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  But he wasn’t listening. She struggled to free her hand as he tugged her toward the barn, as he kicked open the door and as he pulled her inside. Once there, he eased her back against an empty stall door, his hands falling to either side of her shoulders as he gave her no way out and only one thing to look at.

  His eyes blazed into hers. “Just because I didn’t do the inviting, doesn’t mean I don’t want you here.”

  “Doesn’t it?” she tossed back at him.

  “Hell, Jane, I wanted you all night long. I just…”

  “You just what?”
she prompted brusquely, her eyes narrowed. “Because I’d really like to know why you took me home after what I thought was a really great night.”

  What did he say? That he was freaked out? That their conversation had traveled a road that made him wince, that he liked her, craved her, wanted nothing more than to kick his plans to the curb and jump on this idea of him and her, together…?

  Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “Either answer me or let me go.”

  Her green eyes sparked with anger, her tall, toned body was rigid, and her mouth—that sexy, full mouth—quirked. Bobby struggled with the tension that was building inside him, and lost. He didn’t think, just reacted. His mouth closed on hers, hard and demanding, as his hands left the stall door and curled around her waist and back.

  At first, Jane remained still under him, her lips tight and closed, then she seemed to crumple, her lips parting, her breath quickening as she gave in to the pressure of his mouth.

  Lightning fire shot up between his thighs at her response, and he tightened his hold on her. This was why he hadn’t asked her to come to KC Ranch today. This was why he’d taken her home far earlier than he’d wanted to last night. She did something to him, made him forget who he was and what he had to do.

  The ire inside him only fueled his desire further, and he opened his mouth, let his tongue explore the seam between her lips, so soft, so smooth, so tantalizing. She groaned with satisfaction and plunged her fingers into his hair, gripping his scalp.

  Just when he thought she was going to press his face closer, she did the opposite. She pulled his head away, and raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Was that an apology?” she asked, her breathing labored, her eyes liquid with the same desire that was running through his blood.

  “Could be.”

  “Better be.”

  The exchange amused him, and he grinned. “Did it work? Am I forgiven?”

  “I don’t know,” she said slowly, the pads of her thumbs caressing the tops of his cheekbones. “The punishment for being a closed-off jackass last night should be more than a little kiss.”

  “Little kiss?” he repeated arrogantly, his fingers gripping her back.