by Jane Toombs
From somewhere in the direction of the barn, one of the ranch dogs, evidently sensing his presence, woofed twice and subsided. The night air, soft and warm as the hand of a woman, caressed his skin. Which reminded him of Linnea.
Why had he, against his better judgment, postponed flying to Kholi until he could arrange for her to come with him? He suspected his own motives. While it was true she was the key identification person where her daughter was concerned, he’d also been influenced by his desire to have her with him—even though he knew he’d be better off leaving her in Nevada.
Perhaps, for Yasmin’s sake, he still should do exactly that. With both of them gone, she might be frightened. Yet, she seemed to be adjusting here. Danny was already her friend. And while she didn’t confuse Zeid with him, it was clear she trusted his twin. Karen, of course, mothered every child.
At the pond, he saw the outline of the gazebo at its far end silhouetted against the night sky. The two white ducks had retired for the night to the small island at the pond center. How still it was, the quiet unbroken by any sound of civilization. Like his desert home in Kholi. He wouldn’t take Linnea there, she’d be better off staying in the city with his grandmother, who’d keep an eye on her during the times he was away.
Linnea might be honest, but American women were accustomed to making their own decisions rather than being guided by the men in their lives. In Kholi that wouldn’t, as she put it, wash.
Yes, Linnea would be a problem. Was a problem, right here and now. No matter how many times he banished her from his thoughts, she reappeared. Perhaps if he allowed himself to bed her, his ever-increasing desire for her would vanish like raindrops in the desert sand. After all, no woman had ever held his interest for long once he’d made love to her. How could it be any different with Linnea?
Talal tensed, sensing someone moving inside the gazebo. The dogs should have created an uproar if a stranger had entered the grounds, but they might have missed the intrusion. After all, he’d only rated two woofs. He moved warily toward the small open structure. He’d almost reached the gazebo when a woman spoke his name.
“Talal?”
Linnea. How, in this darkness, had she known it was him? “So I’m not the only one unable to sleep,” he said, advancing to climb the three steps to join her inside the gazebo.
“Jet lag,” she suggested, moving away from him and seating herself on one of the benches lining the interior walls.
“Perhaps.” He remained standing, unsure whether to stay or leave. Act on his impulses or be prudent and retreat?
When had a Zohir ever retreated?
“Smell the roses,” she said softly.
There was an American saying about stopping to smell the roses, one he was tempted to respond to. He eased down beside her and stretched out his left leg. “How did you know it was me?” he asked.
“By your walk.”
So she’d noticed the limp his doctors had assured him would lessen with time. What had he expected her to say—something romantic from an Arab poem about being able to sense his nearness?
“A boat accident,” he muttered, trying to dispel his unreasonable disappointment. “Never try to outguess ocean weather.”
“Sailboat?” she asked.
“Yes, a beauty. I miss her.”
“I haven’t sailed in ages. When I was a child we used to summer on Cape Cod and we practically lived on a sailboat. I miss those days.”
He pictured her on his sailboat, the new one he hadn’t yet bought. She’d be wearing a one-piece suit that both revealed and teased. Or, if the weather was warm and they lay at anchor in some secluded cove—nothing. Something Zeid had told him came to mind and he smiled, shifting position to lay his arm along the ledge behind her.
“My brother moors his sailboat at Lake Tahoe,” he said. “Just a few miles up the mountain. While we’re waiting for your visa, we might sail his boat to Emerald Bay. Zeid tells me it’s the most beautiful spot in the world.”
“I’m sure Yasmin would love sailing,” she enthused.
He had no intention of taking the child along. “I think she prefers being with Danny and Erin,” he said firmly. “Which is good. The more she bonds with those here before we leave, the better. To tell the truth, I was beginning to worry that she depended too much on me.”
The nape of her neck lay only inches from his fingers. If he moved them, he’d be caressing the silk of her hair, feeling the enticing warmth of her nape underneath. He’d turn her face toward him and cover the soft sweetness of her mouth with his...
No. Talal clamped down on his imaginings. Not tonight. Here, alone in this romantic gazebo, surrounded by the scent of roses, with only a small slice of moon lighting the sky, she expects you to kiss her and she may very well resist. Don’t be predictable. Surprise her.
He shook his head. His strategy was beginning to take on the outline of a battle campaign. Never before had he planned how he’d make love to a woman. It hadn’t been necessary—they usually fell into his arms. But then, none of those women had been Linnea.
“It’s so peaceful here by the pond,” she said. “I had no idea Nevada would be like this.”
“Your place in New York with the woods around it must have been peaceful.”
“Not like this. Malik never lived in that condo, but the possibility was always there that he might return to America and find me.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“At a friend’s party in Manhattan.” She sighed. “I wasn’t very good at looking underneath a charming surface then.”
“And now?”
“I’ve learned. You—” She paused.
Needing to touch her, he temporarily flung strategy aside. Taking her hand, he began playing with her fingers. “How many times do I have to insist I’m not Malik?”
“No, but you are Kholi.”
“My marriage also failed,” he said, surprising himself. He’d spoken to no one but his twin about that marriage. There was something about Linnea that invited his confidence.
“I understood you weren’t married to Karen’s cousin,” she said.
“I wasn’t. My wife was Kholi, a marriage arranged by our two families—not uncommon in my country.” The pretty dark-haired girl who’d been his bride had faded to a dim memory. He could no longer recall how she’d felt in his arms.
“You divorced her?” Linnea asked.
“She died, a victim of her own deception.” Bitterness laced his voice.
Linnea closed her fingers around his. “I know how painful it is to be betrayed by someone you thought you could trust.”
Talal took a deep breath. Malik had taught her that. But Malik had been a master of deceit while his wife had seemed so submissive and dutiful, obeying his every wish. He eased his breath out and said, “But merciful Allah granted me a son, Danny, thus freeing me from any reason to marry again.”
Linnea withdrew her hand abruptly. “Are you saying you married in the first place only to father a son?”
“In Kholi, it’s every man’s duty to father sons.”
He could sense her anger before she spoke. “What do you do with daughters—drown them?”
“Again, you speak nonsense. We cherish our daughters.”
“For themselves or because they will one day bear sons?” Her words quivered with hostility.
“Linnea, this discussion goes nowhere.”
She sprang to her feet and he rose to face her. “Malik made it very clear how furious he was with me because I didn’t bear him a son. That’s why I didn’t—” her voice broke but she went on “—why I didn’t realize my baby, my Yasmin, was in danger. He didn’t want a daughter, he took her from me for spite.” She began to sob. “For revenge.”
Talal pulled her to him, holding her loosely against him as he stroked her back, murmuring in Arabic because the words of comfort seemed more potent in his language. What a dog Malik had been. He’d died like one, too, shot down by an unknown assassin.
&nb
sp; Actually, not quite so unknown as the king gave out. Talal suspected one of his Zohir cousins had a hand in it. Rumor was Malik had been trifling with a Zohir daughter, one too young to beware of honeyed words.
“I’ll find your Yasmin.” He put his heart into his words. “I swear I will.” He didn’t add if she still lives, though in his mind he acknowledged the possibility he knew Linnea might not. He didn’t want to believe her daughter might not be alive and reassured himself by deciding Malik must have gone ahead with the baby’s surgery.
Linnea pulled away from him. “I believe you,” she told him. “I know you won’t disappoint me.”
Hearing the trust in her voice, he decided he’d rather die than fail to live up to his promise to her. More than his honor was involved. Much more. So much it frightened him.
In an effort to lighten the immediate situation, he said, “When I do, we’ll have two Yasmins on our hands.” Belatedly he realized he’d said we instead of you, but since her only response was a strained laugh, he decided she hadn’t noticed. Best to leave well enough alone, though he certainly hadn’t meant the we.
Before he understood what was happening, Linnea put her hands to his face, rose on her toes and kissed him. Even as he told himself it was a kiss of gratitude, he gathered her close, unable to help himself, and deepened the kiss. She sighed and snuggled closer, her response triggering a rush of desire he struggled to control.
His hands slipped down to cup her against him, inhaling her faint feminine scent mixed with the perfume of the roses. She was so soft, so enticing, and she fit in his arms as though meant for him alone. He wanted, he needed...
“Talal,” she murmured against his lips, saying his name like a prayer.
He had to have her, he couldn’t wait, the need throbbed through him hot and urgent. But here? On the wooden floor of his brother’s gazebo? No, it would be wrong, not right for Linnea and an insult to his brother’s hospitality since she was a guest in Zeid’s home. Besides, he might well be taking advantage of her emotional state.
Summoning strength he didn’t know he possessed, he unwrapped her arms from his neck and stepped back, still holding her hands in his. He bent and kissed each palm before releasing her entirely.
He murmured an endearment, swung on his heel and strode toward the sliding door to his room.
Linnea stared after him, feeling both bereft and annoyed at herself. Part of her wished to be back in his arms, it had felt so right to be held next to him. So right that she’d come within an ace of letting go, of giving herself up to the passion surging through her. Of becoming another of what she suspected were his many conquests. And she couldn’t blame it on the sexiness of Kholi men this time. Malik hadn’t even come close to making her feel so utterly abandoned.
Why hadn’t she had the sense to pull away? She’d been wary enough of being alone with him when he first entered the gazebo, but the moment he took her hands in his, her wariness had vanished like smoke in the breeze. How galling that he’d been able to stop instead of her calling the halt.
Maybe he didn’t find her sexy enough. Linnea shook her head furiously. Now she was blaming herself for not being appealing. Damn the man. Never again, she vowed.
Late the next morning Karen took Linnea aside to share her plans for a barbecue on the following day. “Just family,” she said. “We want you and Yasmin to keep a low profile at present. Jade will be here and, surprise, surprise, my brother, Steve. Zed called him yesterday because he thought Steve could be of help in quashing any story about Yasmin that might leak out of Washington. Steve responded by telling us he was coming to meet you and Yasmin.”
Not sure how to take this, Linnea asked, “What does your brother do?”
Karen shrugged. “Something secret for the government—he tends to be fuzzy about what it is. If anyone can stop a leak, I’m sure he can. Zed did consult Talal before he called Steve.”
Reassured, Linnea said, “I’m sorry Yasmin and I are cluttering up your life.”
“Nonsense. Yasmin has totally enthralled Danny, while you—” She paused and smiled at Linnea. “I won’t tease you, but it’s clear you’ve shaken Talal to the soles of his feet.” She lowered her voice. “One minute he was telling Zed under no condition would he let you go with him to Kholi, and not two hours later he’s calling to get you a Kholi visa. This from a man who takes orders from no one—especially a woman. Jade and I are enjoying every minute of it.”
“The truth is he finally realized I was the only one who could positively identify my daughter.”
Karen shook her head. “Part of the truth, maybe.” She eyed Linnea assessingly. “I doubt he knows what’s hit him. I’m sure you’re able to handle things but—” She paused and gnawed on a fingernail, at last adding, “I keep remembering my cousin Erin. Even though I realize there were no deep feelings on either her side or Talal’s, her death haunts me. I’ve come to love my brother-in-law, but don’t let him hurt you.”
Danny and Yasmin interrupted with demands that Linnea come with them to see the barn kittens. “I’ll show you our darling Najla at the same time,” Karen said. “We’re still trying to pick a name for her colt.”
“Aziz,” Yasmin said, picking up her pink toy kitten.
“Do you know what that means?” Karen asked Linnea.
“Cherished or beloved in Arabic, as I recall. It’s Yasmin’s name for her toy.”
“And not a bad name for our colt. Aziz. I like the sound of it as well as the meaning.” Karen ruffled Yasmin’s hair. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Yasmin favored her with a smile, and the four of them set off for the barn, Danny in the lead.
After lunch, both children settled in for a nap on Yasmin’s trundle bed because Danny refused to be parted from her. It eased Linnea’s worry over leaving the girl when she saw how attached the two children had become.
“Tell me what I can do to help prepare for the barbecue,” she asked Karen.
“Jade’s already organized everything,” Karen told her. “The guys will be bringing the supplies and doing the real work—at least Zed will. Talal has never had to do that kind of thing—in Kholi it would be considered menial work and the royal family is above all that. It’s not snobbishness, it’s simply a way of life that Talal absorbed as he grew up.”
Linnea was looking for a way to ask how it came about that the twins were brought up in different countries when Zed and Talal arrived.
“Everything’s under control,” Zed announced, “so Talal’s going to run up to the lake with Linnea and take Fancy Lady for a sail.”
“Great idea,” Karen said. “It’d be a shame for Linnea to miss seeing Lake Tahoe.” Before Linnea could think of any reason not to go, Karen was leading her down the hall to the master bedroom.
“The lake’s too cold to swim except in the shallows,” she said, “but a suit might come in handy. You didn’t bring one, did you?” At Linnea’s head shake, she pulled a gold-and-black one-piece from a drawer. “I’ve never worn this because after I bought it I realized the colors were wrong for me. But they’d suit you—take it along. There are cover-ups and towels and stuff like sunscreen on the boat.”
“I’m not sure I should run out on you. when you’re planning a—”
“Hey, grab the moment. I used to be a cautious Connie, but I learned—from Zed actually—that you’ll miss the boat if you hang too far back.” Her smile was secret, a personal smile.
Linnea was none too sure she wanted any more moments alone with Talal, but the idea of the sail did appeal to her and she knew enough about boats to understand that if it was a good-sized sailboat, as she expected it must be, they’d both be kept too busy for fooling around.
They set off with a picnic basket and drove along the valley floor until they came to a turnoff marked Kingsbury Grade. As the red sports car climbed the steep rise of the mountain, Linnea watched the rocky walls with their sparse growth of evergreens become more and more heavily forested. The aromatic scent of pi
ne and fir invaded the car, and she swallowed to clear her ears as the road rose up and up.
When they crested the summit and Lake Tahoe came into view, she drew in her breath. The pictures she’d seen of the lake didn’t begin to do justice to its sparkling magnificence.
“I’m glad I came,” she said impulsively.
“So am I.” Talal’s words were ambiguous. Did he mean he was glad he’d come or that he was glad she had?
Linnea smiled. Maybe both. And what did it matter? Perhaps the high altitude made her euphoric, but why not? They were heading for the most beautiful lake she’d ever seen, the water so blue as to be unbelievable. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. As a bonus, she loved to sail.
Fancy Lady was a fourteen-foot clipper, large enough to keep two people occupied until they got her away from shore. The wind caught the sails, and she scudded along briskly until at last they’d passed all the noisy powerboats and silence reigned.
“Take the rudder,” Talal suggested—at least she chose to interpret it as a suggestion and not an order. Mellow was the order of the day.
She slipped into his place and grinned with exhilaration when she felt the response of the boat under her hand. “This is the life,” she said. “Sailing’s like nothing else.”
He nodded agreeably, then pointed in the direction he wanted her to take. “We’re heading for Emerald Bay.”
She couldn’t imagine how the bay could possibly be more gorgeous than the lake itself. The surrounding mountains with their green canopy of evergreens were very different from the Cape Cod sand banks of her youth. Away from the shores there were far fewer boats on the lake than she’d expected. At times theirs seemed to be the only one.