by Jane Toombs
“I’ll see you safely to your room,” he told her.
As though the hall to her bedroom was filled with myriad dangers. She smiled wryly at the thought, perfectly aware the only peril facing her was Talal himself.
At her ajar door he bent and brushed her lips with his, then murmured in Arabic. Maddamti was the only word she understood. My lady. His lady. Was she?
Shaking off her bemusement, she said, “Good night, Talal,” and left him in the hall.
Sleep claimed her almost as soon as she laid her head on her pillow....
She walked in a green meadow beside a wide and fast-running stream that muttered and grumbled its way over the rocks. On the other side of the churning water a man she knew was Talal stood with his back to her, focusing a telescope upward instead of looking at her. Though it was imperative to attract his attention, danger lay in calling out to him. Her only choice was to reach him by crossing the turbulent stream over the dilapidated wooden bridge ahead of her.
The bridge gave her a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, apprehension rather than fear, with another emotion akin to hate mixed with it. She wished she were nowhere near this spot, yet to reach Talal she must cross that bridge.
As she neared the span, she noticed that the grass in Talal’s meadow grew more lush and green than in the fields on her side. She belonged in his meadow, not alone over here. Gritting her teeth, she set her foot on the wooden boards of the bridge. One foot, then the other, her boot heels clicking against the planks.
She longed to run across, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quicken her slow pace. It took forever to reach the halfway mark As she did, a dark form suddenly vaulted over the railing, coming from beneath the bridge. She stopped abruptly, anger mingling with fear. How dare anything block her way to Talal!
Though she’d expected to see a monster, she realized a man stood before her. A man she knew. A man she’d hoped never to see again. She spat out his name.
“Malik..”
“No farther, ” he growled.
“You’re dead, you can’t stop me.”
He laughed, laughter that changed to a howl as his face shifted and changed, becoming monstrous. She cringed back, trying desperately to call to Talal, but no sound emerged; she remained mute.
Forcing herself to stop retreating, she confronted the repulsive half man, half monster. “Where is she?” she cried.“What have you done with her?”
“She’s mine, ” he growded. “Only mine. Mince!”
Linnea woke with a start, the word reverberating in her ears, the dream shards still holding her prisoner.
“Mama?” Yasmin’s sleepy voice shattered the spell of the dream, returning Linnea to reality.
“I’m here,” Linnea whispered to her. “Mama’s right here. I’ll always be here for you.”
Though in a way, she wouldn’t. For Yasmin’s own safety, she was temporarily leaving her behind to go off searching for the daughter Malik had taken to Kholi. But what else could she do? She couldn’t risk losing Yasmin.
Yasmin fell back to sleep quickly, but Linnea remained awake, her thoughts leading her back to the unpleasant dream, keeping her from relaxing. Caught again in the strands of that nightmare, she started at a sound from the hall. Footsteps. Karen or Zed checking on baby Erin or on Danny, she tried to tell herself. But somehow the noise seemed alien, not a normal household sound. A side effect of her bad dream, maybe, but she remained tense.
Disturbed, she slipped from her bed, aware she’d never sleep if she didn’t identify what she’d heard. Easing open her door, she stared into the hall, lit only by a night-light. A strange man stared back at her.
Before she had time to do more than gasp, he said in a low tone, “I’m Steve. Sorry to startle you. I hoped not to wake anyone while I tried to discover where Karen wanted me to sleep. Apparently in the annex, since these bedrooms are all taken.”
Her relief rendered her temporarily speechless, and all she could manage to say at first was “Oh.” Deciding she ought to act as proxy for her hostess, she reached in back of the door, unhooked her robe and slid into it. Stepping into the hall, she motioned to him to follow her, whispering that they risked waking everyone if they talked where they were.
In the kitchen, Steve turned on the desk lamp that illuminated no more than the low counter with the shelves where Karen kept her cookbooks. Evidently he was completely familiar with the house.
“You’re Linnea,” he said, offering his hand. His shake was quick, firm and no-nonsense. “I arrived earlier than I was expected. Since I knew where the hidden outdoor key was, I let myself in.”
“Karen did put you in the annex,” she said. “Talal’s the only one sleeping there. He’s in the room to the left as you go into the game room.”
“Thanks.” His smile came and went as quickly as his handshake had, making her believe he meant to say good-night and head for the annex. Instead he gestured to a kitchen chair, saying, “Mind spending a few more minutes with me?”
She shook her head and sat down, wondering what he wanted.
Steve lifted a chair and turned it around so that he sat facing the chair back, resting his arms on it as he gazed at her. “Not a good idea for you to go to Kholi,” he said.
Taken aback, she bristled. “Why not?”
“The country’s going through one of its periodic shifts where the ulema, the religious extremists, are allowed enough power to make it seem they’re in control. Actually, the Zohirs retain their tight grip on the government but, at the moment, find it politically expedient to throw a bone to the religious faction.”
“What does this have to do with me?” she demanded.
“During these religious alignments with the ulema, the muttawa are allowed much more freedom. You’ve never tangled with the Kholi religious police.”
His statement meant he knew she’d never been to Kholi before. She eyed him narrowly. They probably had a dossier on her somewhere in Washington, and whatever he did there must give him access to things like that. “I think the fact that I’ll be accompanied by a Zohir will offer sufficient protection,” she said tartly. “And I’ll be staying with Talal’s grandmother.”
Steve’s left eyebrow rose a fraction. “Good move. But you-are an American woman. While ordinarily that would offer you some immunity from the muttawa, I wouldn’t count on any during present conditions. Stay home.”
She gazed directly into his intent hazel eyes. “I can’t. I’m the only one who can positively identify my lost daughter.”
“You already have the daughter Talal brought you,” he said. “Be satisfied. The search for Malik Khaldun’s child may dig up buried feuds. If it’s expedient, a Kholi family can put revenge on a back burner for x number of years, but it keeps simmering there, never really cooling off completely.”
“She’s my daughter, too!” With effort Linnea kept herself from shouting the words at him. “I love little Yasmin and I’ll never give her up, but my lost daughter is still somewhere in Kholi and I can’t rest until she’s found, until I can hold her in my arms again.”
He shook his head without speaking.
A thought struck her. “Do you have any children?” she asked.
His “no” was clipped.
She nodded, her resentment at his unasked-for advice fading. If he’d never been a parent, how could she expect him to understand the way she felt? “I appreciate your willingness to help protect Yasmin,” she said, changing the slant of the conversation. “While I’m gone, I need to know she’s kept safe from harm—and the media—here in Nevada. Karen assures me that’s within your power. So thank you in advance.”
He gave her a wry smile. “In other words, shut up, Steve, and go to bed.”
With that, she decided she might be able to like him, after all. “More or less,” she admitted.
He rose. “I can see you’re going to keep Talal on the edge more often than not in the next few weeks. In more ways than one. Do him good. Bu
t watch yourself in Kholi—be very, very careful.”
“I intend to be,” she said grimly.
“We’ll see each other again tomorrow, but I’ll say Fi aman Allah rather than good-night. You’ll need it—and more.” He turned on his heel and left the kitchen.
Linnea rose slowly, the meaning of the Arabic words filtering through to her. Godspeed, he’d wished her. As she made her way toward her bedroom she wondered how much Arabic he knew. She’d do well to study her phrase book and memorize vital words she might need to have readily available once she arrived in Kholi. With Talal.
She carried his name with her into bed, once more reliving the intense pleasure of being in his arms. The mere thought of his kisses made her begin to tingle. She fell asleep in a warm flush of anticipatory desire.
The following day, Linnea had no chance to be alone with Talal for even a moment. Rather than directly helping with the barbecue, her assignment involved keeping track of Danny and Yasmin, corralling them when necessary, and that kept her busy. Jade arrived and took over Erin’s care, leaving Karen free to coordinate operations. The men were responsible for the actual cooking.
When she came outside with the children, Linnea kept an eye on Talal. While he didn’t actually lounge around watching Zed and Steve work, she noticed he had to be told what to do. It occurred to her that might be because he’d never in his life actually cooked a meal for himself, let alone for anyone else. Or even seen it done. The thought made her remember what she kept forgetting—he’d been raised as a prince of the royal family. He was royalty.
He wore blue shorts and a Nevada T-shirt Zed had given him. At the moment Talal looked every bit as American as Zed and Steve and certainly didn’t fit her conception of a Kholi prince.
Steve was slightly taller than the twins, not dark, with auburn hair. He was attractive enough, but, for her, he paled next to Talal. Even Zed, she felt, wasn’t quite as impressive as his twin brother. Perhaps it was because Talal had an air of command that Zed lacked. At least in her opinion.
What kind of musing was this for a woman who knew there’d be nothing permanent about her relationship with this man she found so impressive? A man she didn’t even want a permanent relationship with.
Belatedly she realized that Jade had joined her and was saying something about guitars. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” she apologized.
“I said I wish I could have persuaded Wyatt to come with me so we could show off with a guitar duet later on,” Jade said. “But he’s shy about strangers. Or maybe wary is a better word.”
Linnea had to search her mind for a clue as to who Wyatt could be. Oh, yes, the Paiute boy Jade was big-sistering. Before she could comment, Jade began talking again.
“Did you notice Yasmin is starting to call me “Tee” like Danny does? Comes from Auntie. She’s a quick little thing.”
Warmed by her words about Yasmin, Linnea smiled. “What do you think about Steve?” she asked.
“Likable despite his leanings toward being a control freak. I suspect his ex-wife may have bailed out of the marriage because of that tendency of his—though Karen has other ideas about what went wrong. If you mean will he keep Yasmin safe, not to worry. He’ll handle any problems from back East—Zed and Karen will do the rest right here. With a little help from me.” Jade paused for a moment, then added, “I hear you’ll be staying with Grandma Zohir. Take notes, because we’ll be picking your brains about her when you get back.”
On her return from Kholi she would, of course, be coming back to Nevada to collect Yasmin. She realized she hadn’t planned much beyond that, assuming the three of them—she and the two Yasmins—would live in New York. Now she wondered if that’s what she really wanted to do. Somehow, though, she couldn’t bring herself to plan further ahead than Kholi and finding her lost child.
Danny and Yasmin ran up. “Erin wants Tee,” Danny said.
“Ya, Tee, Erin cry,” Yasmin put in.
“I had a feeling she wouldn’t nap long,” Jade said. “I swear babies have a sixth sense about parties—they want to be part of the action. I’m off on my rescue mission.”
Danny tugged at Linnea’s hand. “Yasmin wants to see the kitties,” he said.
“Kitties,” Yasmin echoed. “See kitties.”
Since the children weren’t allowed to go in the barn without permission, Linnea offered a hand to each of them and set off in that direction. Before they reached the barn, Talal appeared.
“The kittens?” he asked.
She nodded, secretly pleased he’d been paying enough attention to notice what she was doing and take the chance to be with her, away from the other adults.
In the barn, once Danny and Yasmin were occupied with the kittens, he drew her off to one side. “Steve doesn’t think you should risk Kholi,” he said.
She’d been hoping Talal meant to say something a bit more intimate. “So he told me,” she said shortly.
“He made a good point about the—”
She cut him off. “It takes more than a threat of the religious police to stop me from going. I’ve already told you I’d put on the entire Kholi head-to-toe black outfit if I have to. What more can anyone ask?”
Talal frowned. Linnea acted like a mother cat ready to attack. Why she’d gotten her back up over a few innocuous words puzzled him. For more reasons than one, he wished he’d never agreed to let her go with him to Kholi. Steve had correctly diagnosed the present situation in Kholi, not actually dangerous but touchy, with all having to toe the religious line. But that didn’t worry him so much as his obsession with her did.
“Why not come right out and say you don’t want me along?” she demanded. “It’s perfectly clear that you don’t.”
“Steve—” he began.
Again she interrupted. “Why blame it on him? You’re using his words as an excuse and you know it.”
Beautiful. Desirable. Intelligent. And too sharp for her own good. Or his. Women could be such maddening creatures, Linnea in particular. Didn’t she realize what he really wanted to do at this moment was carry her up into the loft, fling her down on the hay and make love to her for the rest of the day?
“Well?” she snapped. “Have you nothing to say?”
He wanted her with him in Kholi so much that it made him uneasy. They’d be better apart, with an ocean between them until he cooled off. Because he would in time, he always had. No woman intrigued him for long. She was a woman, how could she be that much different?
“What is there left to say?” he asked.
She stared at him, her amber eyes narrowing. “I’m going to Kholi, one way or another.”
“You’re going with me. Tomorrow. You will stay with my grandmother and will do as she advises at all times. End of discussion.” Because he couldn’t trust himself not to grab her and kiss her into submission, he turned and strode from the barn.
Once with the men again, he began to relax. How much easier men were to deal with than women. Easier companions, easier to understand, easier to get along with. He and Zed shared something more than most brothers; they usually knew exactly, without words, how the other felt. Steve was good to be with, too, a man to be trusted.
While women... He sighed. Unfortunately, men couldn’t live without women—he certainly wouldn’t want to.
The meal was perfect. Once the hot Nevada sun settled behind the mountains, the evening quickly cooled to a comfortable temperature, great for dining al fresco. Zeid’s special barbecue sauce turned the beef into a rare delicacy and Karen’s beans were the best he’d ever tasted.
After the unsurpassable homemade strawberry ice cream, Jade fetched her guitar from her truck and played American folk songs while they sang along. He remembered many of the songs from his days at Princeton and was able to join in, making him feel one with the group.
He was startled when his sister began playing a minor-key melody, one he recognized as a familiar old Kholi song. She evidently noticed his surprise because she chuckled.
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“I learned the melody,” she said, “but the words are beyond me. Do you know them, Talal?”
He did and, momentarily taken back to his childhood in Kholi, began to sing in Arabic. Yasmin rose from Linnea’s side and trotted over to him, cuddling close. After a bit she sang with him, her small voice sweet and true.
There was silence when they finished, then the others applauded. Yasmin climbed into his lap and put her arms around his neck, whispering into his ear that she loved him. Tears pricked his eyes as he told her he loved her, too. Here was someone he would always regret leaving.
Much later, after Jade had left and everyone else was in bed, Talal stood outside by the gazebo, gazing up at the waxing moon. He couldn’t see the comet with his naked eye, but he knew it was there, sailing along on its fixed course. Perhaps one day a meteor or some other cataclysmic cause would deflect the comet from its course and Earth would never see it again.
Last night he’d viewed the comet through a telescope, first with Linnea, then with Zeid. Much as he loved his brother, the second time had been a definite anticlimax. This comet he would always associate with Linnea. With the first time they’d made love. First and last time?
Talal shook his head. He was nowhere near ready to give her up. And that was the problem.
Linnea lay sleepless in her bed. If she didn’t fear Talal might be looking at the stars, she’d get up and go outside. She didn’t want to take the chance of encountering him, because he’d believe she was deliberately looking for him.
So Jade thought Steve had leanings toward being a control freak? She ought to take a good look at her Kholi brother. Talal was a you’ll-do-as-I-say-or-else type if ever she met one, and she suspected he’d be even more so in Kholi. She was sure she’d eventually begin to hate him.
And yet she’d almost come undone when he began singing in Arabic and Yasmin had joined him. How tender he could be, how loving. As he’d been with her the night before.