by Jane Toombs
She recalled looking through a small telescope at the moon when she was a teenager, but her knowledge of the heavens was limited to the Big Dipper and the North Star. She might be able to pick out Venus and maybe Mars, but that about covered her range.
“I’m an astronomy illiterate,” she admitted.
“When I was very young,” he said, “I would lie on a blanket under the stars in the courtyard and look up at them, holding Zeid’s red ball in my hand and wondering if my other half had somehow ascended into the heavens. Even then I knew better than to mention his name aloud.”
Impulsively, she reached over and covered his hand with hers for a moment. “I’ve heard identical twins share a special bond.”
“I never found him in the sky, even when I acquired my first telescope. As I grew older, my fascination was transferred to the stars and planets themselves. But now I have the stars and Zeid, too.” He turned toward her, the flash of his smile revealed by the dim light from the dash. “First sailing, then poetry, now astronomy. I’ve reached overload. There’s something about you that tempts me to reveal all my secrets.”
“I’m sure you still have a few tucked away where no one can get at them,” she said lightly.
“I hope so.” He spoke as casually as she had. “Still, it’s only fair you tell me one of your secrets in return.”
An image of Glinda, the Good Witch of Oz, sprang unbidden into her mind and she blurted, “When I was a little girl, more than anything I wanted to be a beautiful golden-haired princess. But after my best friend laughed at me, pointing out my dark hair and general scrawniness, I never did act out my fantasy, not even when I dressed up in costumes for Halloween.”
Talal didn’t comment right away, and she’d begun to feel foolish for revealing so trivial a childish secret when he said, “Wishes have a strange way of being granted, though often so disguised one misses the truth.”
Ambiguous but tactful. He really could be rather sweet. For a Kholi, anyway.
He braked, pulling to the side, and stopped the truck. “We’ve arrived at the perfect spot.” He switched off the headlights. “Don’t get out until your vision adjusts to the dark.”
Night had settled over the valley. Not the pitch black of midnight, but darkness, none the less. A crescent moon was just rising. Through the open window of the truck she heard a faraway half bark, half howl, soon echoed by another, then another. Her first thought was of a dog, but then something else occurred to her.
“Those can’t be coyotes!” she cried.
“Why not?”
“I’ve never heard a real, live coyote howl before.”
“Jaida says the Paiutes believe Coyote is laughing at humans. This boy she’s taken under her wing is a Paiute, and she seems to be studying to become an honorary one. Not that I belittle her accomplishments. She’s a sister to be proud of.”
“A beautiful mountain lake, an earthquake and coyotes all in one day,” she marveled. “What more does Nevada have to offer?”
“Perhaps a comet,” he said, easing from the truck. She opened her door and jumped out before he could come around to do the honors, then watched him untie and unwrap the telescope. “Bring the blanket,” he said. “I may need to put it underneath to level the telescope.”
Carrying the folded blanket, she followed him into an empty, unfenced field. He put down the telescope and fiddled with the legs. She offered him the blanket.
“No, I’ve got things under control,” he said, and proceeded to adjust the eyepiece. Standing back, he scanned the sky and then turned the lens toward the left. Her sense of direction was so completely skewed by now that she had no idea which quadrant of the sky he was aiming at.
He peered skyward through the eyepiece, continuing to focus it. Time passed. She unfolded the blanket, spread it on the ground and sat down, giving herself up to enjoying the brush of the wind through her hair from a breeze that carried the tang of sage.
“Ah!” Talal cried. “Come, look, Linnea.”
“I thought you were supposed to shout ‘Eureka!’” she commented as she rose. “Or is that just for inventors?” Obediently she put her eye to the telescope and magnified stars came into view.
“Near the top of the viewer,” he told her.
She focused there, saw what appeared to be a fuzzy blob and said so.
“That’s the comet you’re looking at. It’s not yet close enough to be more distinct.”
Despite the vagueness of the image, a thrill shot through her. A comet, she was actually staring at a comet, something she’d never seen before in the flesh, so to speak.
Afterward, he showed her Orion and other constellations, but the high point for her was the hazy blob of the comet and she eventually sat on the blanket again. Not long afterward he turned from the telescope, saw her on the ground and stretched out beside her on the blanket, staring up at the sky.
“What do you hope to find up there now that you’re reunited with your brother?” she asked.
“Perhaps I hope something will find me,” he said. “Tell me what you see in this Nevada sky.”
She craned her neck, trying to look up from a sitting position, found it uncomfortable and lay back next to him. Above her, stars glimmered and glittered. The moon had risen higher. Searching, she located Orion and was about to try to find the Big Dipper when a shooting star flashed across her vision. “Look!” she cried. “My aunt always said if you make a wish and then see a shooting star your wish will come true.”
He chuckled. “If that’s true and you viewed the night sky with any regularity, you’d have to be careful what you wished for because meteors are common. As it is, you’re stuck with becoming a golden-haired princess.”
She laughed. “Fat chance. What about you?”
“That was your shooting star, you saw it first, so my wish will have to wait.”
“You know, if you look long enough you get the illusion the stars are falling toward you,” she said. “Or maybe that you’re falling up into the stars.”
He rose onto one elbow and gazed down at her. “Climbing into Omar’s Seventh Heaven, maybe?”
Talal lay beside her. His nearness commanded all her senses, blotting out the moon and the stars. His scent mingled with the sage, making the Nevada night his. Wise or not, she yearned to touch him. To have him touch her.
He leaned toward her, not completely closing the gap between them, leaving it up to her to decide what came next. Heart pounding, unable to stop herself, she raised her hand until her fingers traced the curve of his lips, caressed his cheek and then slipped around to his nape, urging him gently toward her until his mouth met hers.
She savored his kisses as his lips teased and explored hers in a prelude to the passion she knew must be simmering inside him as it was within her. Her desire for him had been with her all day, had plagued her almost since the moment they met. She’d resisted as best she could.
Why? Distracted by the overwhelming pleasure of his caresses, she couldn’t recall a single reason to resist her own desires any longer. He was Talal, the man she wanted, and he was here beside her, making her heart sing.
His tongue urged her lips apart and she opened to him, tingling with anticipation and need.
Talal burned with need, fighting his impulse to rush into completion. He’d allowed her to make the first move, to show him she wanted to be kissed. Even though her tiny moans of pleasure kept fueling what was already a close-to-explosive desire, he forced himself to a slow pace, enjoying the sweetness of her mouth and the silken feel of her soft curves.
He was granting her what he’d offered no other woman before—this first time was hers to control. But Linnea was different from any other woman. He’d planned to seduce her on the boat but had temporarily given up after her caustic remark about numbers. So much for planning ahead. He hadn’t counted on so much as a kiss during this jaunt to see the comet. Then she’d spread out the blanket and sat on it, and she’d brought his lips to hers. Unplanned and all
the more precious.
If she wanted him to stop, she’d have to say so soon because she was driving him up so fast he felt like a comet flaming in the heat of her atmosphere. When she pressed herself tightly against him, he groaned. He needed her beneath him, flesh next to flesh, opening her velvet warmth to him, welcoming him, enclosing him.
He eased away far enough to remove her dress, then her bikini panties. He stripped off his shorts and she touched him.
Losing all sense of time and place, he caught her close again, murmuring to her in his language, telling her she was more beautiful, more alluring, more desirable than any woman to be found in paradise.
She whispered his name, a plea in her voice. Not for him to stop, he knew, but to bring them both up through the Seventh Gate to what awaited them beyond.
His intimate caresses confirmed what he already knew, that her passionate need for him matched his for her. This was meant to be, she was meant for him this night under the Nevada sky.
Despite his eagerness, he forced himself to take her slowly, savoring every moment as she began to move with him, sending him deeper and deeper into her enticing warmth until he could hold back no longer. His thrusts grew harder, stronger. As in a dream he heard her cry of completion and sensed her convulsion of pleasure.
He gave himself up to his own pleasure, joining her on their journey together toward Saturn’s Throne to a heaven neither could reach alone.
Afterward he was surprised to find himself reluctant to let her go. Even with his desire temporarily sated, he wanted to keep holding her, to continue gently stroking her skin. How had it come about that he’d allowed this woman so much power over him? True, they’d be together for the trip to Kholi, but then they’d part. This could be, would be no more than a short liaison. As his affairs always were. He wanted, he needed nothing more from any woman.
One marriage had taught him not to walk that path again; he had no intention of acquiring another wife. No woman could be trusted not to betray. But his conviction that this was the truth didn’t help him to put Linnea aside. His arms still held her close, her scent surrounding him, her soft curves beginning to trigger another tickle of desire.
Linnea told herself she should move away from Talal, but his naked warmth held her in thrall. How wonderful to lie here without the urgency of need, to simply enjoy the feeling of being close to him, to savor the pleasure of his hand caressing her back. Not that she meant to allow this night to lead to anything permanent. The last thing in the world she intended to do was to become seriously involved with another Kholi male.
Apparently she needn’t worry about another night like this one—at least not while she was staying with his grandmother in Kholi. And after Kholi... Linnea sighed. Once they found her birth daughter she’d probably never see him again.
The idea of going to Kholi frightened her, but she was determined. Though she hated to leave Yasmin, she knew as long as the girl remained here in Nevada with Zed and Karen she’d be safe. Zed was a prince of the ruling family, after all, so if any attempt was made to take Yasmin back to Kholi in her absence, he had the ability to thwart it. In addition, Steve was connected with the powers-that-be in Washington.
So she needn’t worry about Yasmin. Or about herself, if she was to be protected by Talal while in Kholi. The idea of needing his protection unsettled her. She’d been on her own for enough years to be confident she could fend for herself—even in Kholi—if she were careful to obey their laws and customs. Which she meant to do. She was going there to find the daughter Malik had stolen from her and discover why another child had been substituted for that daughter. Whatever she must do to accomplish this, she would, even to wearing the black veil. Even to staying with his grandmother, whom she was certain wouldn’t approve of her.
His grandmother had already lost one grandson because his mother was an American. Wouldn’t she see Linnea as a threat? Wouldn’t she worry that Talal might disappoint her by taking an American wife? He wouldn’t, of course, any more than Linnea would marry him even if he asked her. His grandmother had nothing whatsoever to be apprehensive about where she was concerned.
There was no real reason to be frightened. Yet she shivered as the locked door in her mind cracked open. Was her birth daughter still alive? She must be. She had to be!
“Cold?” Talal murmured, holding her closer.
She started to tell him no, but his lips caught the word as he kissed her. The heat of his mouth on hers called up an answering warmth from deep inside her, and before she understood exactly what was happening, a renewed need for him wiped her mind free of all else.
Their second trip to Omar’s Seventh Heaven was slower, their initial driving urgency replaced by sensual exploration of each other, adding another dimension, an erotic sweetness to falling into the stars.
She clung to him in the afterglow, thrusting away the chilly thought that the law of gravity still held sway—what falls up must also fall down. If there was to be no future together for them she could still savor each glorious moment of the present Here and now was enough.
It had to be enough because there would be no more.
Chapter Eight
When Talal and Linnea returned to the ranch, a drowsy Yasmin cuddled next to Linnea. “Ya, Mama,” she murmured, “pizza good.” After Linnea put her into the trundle bed, Yasmin clung to her. “Story,” she begged.
Though amazed at the rapidity of the girl’s acquisition of English, Linnea knew she wouldn’t yet understand much of any story and tried to decide which one to choose.
“Goat,” Yasmin said. “Trip-trap.”
“You are one smart little girl,” Linnea said, hugging her close. “You’re mine, you’re my darling daughter.”
“Mama, mine.”
Linnea’s breath caught. If Yasmin truly understood the meaning of the word she’d obviously picked up from Danny, it meant that her little girl knew Linnea belonged to her as much as she belonged to Linnea. She hated to leave Yasmin behind. Yet she must.
Blinking back tears, she tucked Yasmin under the sheet and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “Once upon a time,” she began, “there were three billy goats.” Holding up three fingers, she repeated the number, then went on with the story.
Yasmin fell asleep even before the first and smallest goat trip-trapped over the troll’s bridge.
When Linnea returned to the living room, Zed and Talal were nowhere in sight. “They’ve gone to view the comet,” Karen said. “Isn’t it amazing that they both have this fascination with astronomy?”
“And sailing, I gather,” Linnea said.
Karen nodded. “At first I didn’t think they were much alike, outside of their physical resemblance. But the more I see of Talal, the more I find other similarities to Zed.”
“Talal...” Linnea began, intending to point out that he was raised in another culture. Instead, she found herself saying dreamily, “Talal certainly improves on acquaintance.”
Karen eyed her assessingly. “If that secret smile means what I think it does, be careful. I speak from experience—with Zed. Those twins wield a fatal attraction where women are concerned.”
“You and Zed seem happy together.”
Karen smiled. “We are. Now. When we first met, would you believe I called him a conniving weasel, convinced I was speaking the truth. I fell in love with him despite myself. So, be warned.”
Linnea didn’t need to be warned, she already knew her relationship with Talal had led her into earthquake country, with her feet on shaky ground. “He likes Omar Khayyám,” she said, needing to talk about him but resisting the impulse to share her uncertain feelings with Karen.
Karen rolled her eyes. “Poetry, already. I see my warning comes too late.”
“Omar was an Arab astronomer,” Linnea protested. “Talal told me that while we were looking at the comet. And I assure you I have no intention of getting in over my head.”
“Neither did I,” Karen said dryly.
“In any case, Talal and I won’t be seeing each other once we find my kidnapped daughter in Kholi and I bring her back to America with me. Apparently I won’t be with him that much in Kholi, either, since I’ll be staying with his grandmother.” Linnea sighed. “I expected to be an active partner in the search for my daughter, but he’s doing his best to discourage that. In a way, I understand because I know there are many places in Kholi where women aren’t allowed. So I suppose it’s true I might hamper his search, but he needn’t think I’m going to spend all my time sitting around drinking tea with his grandmother.”
“Do they? Drink a lot of tea, I mean?”
Linnea nodded. “Tea and coffee, both. Usually sweetened. I learned from my ex-husband that it would be an offense to the host or hostess to refuse any refreshments offered in Kholi. And he told me for the most part the women are segregated in separate quarters.”
“You’re not too fond of Kholi, I take it.”
“Part of my dislike may have been because my husband and I didn’t get along. But from what he told me, Kholi is a difficult country for an American woman to get used to. I’d never marry another Kholi.”
“You sound like Talal.” Karen said. “He’s sworn never to marry again, not a Kholi woman or any other.”
Linnea started to ask what had happened to his wife but broke off the question when she heard Talal’s voice. A moment later the twins came in from the annex. Talal’s dark gaze caught hers, making her pulse pound as he crossed to her.
“Is Yasmin sleeping?” he asked.
“I didn’t even come close to finishing the goats and troll story before she dropped off,” she told him.
“It’s good she’s grown confident enough not to need me with her all the time.” His wistful tone belied his words. Maybe he was more attached to Yasmin than she realized. Or he realized.
“I’m getting sleepy myself,” Linnea admitted.
“A day on the water’ll do that to you,” Zed commented, dropping onto the couch next to his wife and putting an arm around her shoulders.
Talal’s glance at Linnea hinted that he knew of another reason for her sleepiness. He reached a hand to her, a silent offer to help her up from her chair. With no thought other than wanting to touch him, she placed her hand in his, vaguely aware of Zed and Karen exchanging a meaningful look.