When the phone rang, she jumped, but she did not roll over. She kissed Kadir more deeply, then drew her well-kissed lips away and whispered against his mouth, “They’ll call back.”
He made a sound much like her little moan, and answered, “Or else they will come here to the cottage to check on you. We don’t want that.” The phone had rung three times. Four. Five. Another kiss. Six. With a groan, Cassandra rolled over and snatched at the receiver.
“Hello!”
She scooted slightly farther away from Kadir. “Oh, hi, Mum.”
“Is everything all right?” The voice on the phone held all the concern of a woman for her daughter. More than anyone, Piper Klein understood how much Cassandra had come to care for Kadir. What timing. Almost-psychic Mum strikes again.
“Yes. I…you woke me up.” Cassandra sat up, not quite at ease to remain entangled with Kadir while she spoke to her mother.
“I’m sorry. You’re usually up so early, I just assumed you’d be awake by now. I know you had a late night, and…oh, honey, I’m so sorry. We can come up there to stay with you for a few days, or we can meet you in Silverton.”
She’d made the same offer last night, and Cassandra had declined. She did so again. “No, thank you. That’s not necessary. Ms. Dunn is urging me to get back to work as soon as possible. I think she believes staying busy will help. I might head back this afternoon and take her advice.” She hated lying to her mother, but what choice did she have? “I’m fine, Mum, truly I am.”
The bed creaked and undulated as Kadir rolled away and off the other side. He headed for the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Cassandra turned her back on the bathroom door. She wanted, so much, to tell her mother that Kadir was alive. But she couldn’t do that. Not only would it mean breaking her word to Kadir, it could very well put Piper Klein into a dangerous situation. In a lowered voice she said, “You were right when you said I’ve been too cautious. I should’ve thrown myself at Sheik Kadir the moment he walked off the plane and those flips and flutters appeared and surprised me. I should’ve told him the first night that I knew when I first saw him that he was the one for me.”
“You’ve always been prudent.”
“I’ve always been afraid,” Cassandra replied. She heard the shower begin to run. She could speak more loudly now, since Kadir was occupied and the shower would mask her words even more than the closed door, but she didn’t. Her voice remained soft. “I’ve always been afraid of being hurt the way Lexie has been, so many times. She was always so desperately heart-broken when an affair or a marriage ended, and seeing her that way scared me. I only want what you and Daddy have.”
“One day you’ll have it.” The promise sounded less than authentic, like a mother telling a small child that one day her Prince Charming will arrive on a white horse and after that there would be happily ever after.
“Maybe,” Cassandra answered. “But I won’t get it by being afraid all the time and not even allowing myself to try. I suppose I could take a few lessons from Lexie.”
“Let’s not take this to extremes!”
Cassandra laughed lightly at her mother’s hint of panic. “I’m still me, Mum. I’m just…” Different. Bolder. Less afraid. “God, I feel like I’m a hundred years older than I was this time yesterday.”
Piper Klein sighed into the phone. “That’s it. I’m coming to Leonia today.”
“Don’t do that. I might not even be here this afternoon. I really might decide to take Ms. Dunn up on her offer of burying myself in work.” She told her mother again that she was fine, and then she hung up the phone and fell back onto the bed, wishing Kadir was still here with her.
The shower continued to run on the other side of the bathroom door. Kadir was in there, naked. She knew he wanted her. He had always wanted her. She’d been the one who’d put on the brakes, time and time again. She’d been the one to insist that their relationship remain professional.
She walked toward the bathroom door, unbuttoning the pajama top as she went. These pajamas had been a Christmas gift from Mum, but apparently they were too conservative for Lexie, because until last night they’d never been worn. They still had that crisp fold of newness, and until last night the tag had still been on the pants. No, Lexie slept in sexy lingerie—or nothing at all. She knew how to seduce a man. Cassandra did not. Her mouth was dry with nervousness, and she was a woman who never allowed herself a moment of nervousness.
She opened the bathroom door without knocking. Kadir’s slightly distorted figure beyond the steamy shower glass was intriguing and arousing. He was tall and lean, but not too lean. He had nicely honed muscles and a pleasantly masculine shape, and what she’d felt in the bed had only been a hint of the possibilities that lay ahead. She allowed the unbuttoned pajama top to slip off and hit the floor.
Before she could take a step toward the shower and the naked man within it, a deep voice stopped her with a single word.
“Don’t.”
Puzzled, she stood in the middle of the bathroom, half-dressed. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t step into this shower with me,” Kadir said. His voice was just loud enough for her to be sure she heard every word clearly. “Don’t have sex with me simply because you’re relieved I’m not dead.”
“Kadir, I’m not…”
“And don’t lie. Not to me and not to yourself. It’s easy to get caught up in what I want when you’re kissing me, when your body is warm against mine, but stepping away gave me time to think. You have resisted me until now. What’s changed?”
She recognized that whatever might’ve happened if her mother hadn’t called likely wasn’t going to happen now. “Maybe you think too much,” she argued.
What might’ve been a rough, humorless laugh that didn’t last long rumbled from the shower. “I wish I didn’t have to think at all, but I have no choice. There is one man in the world I can trust, and I’ve not yet decided how I might get in touch with him without alerting others to my survival.” In a lower voice he added, “There is one woman in the world I can trust. If I sleep with her in her moment of weakness, if I take advantage of her obvious relief that I find myself still among the living, will she come to regret what should never be cause for regret?”
“I won’t…”
“You don’t know, not today. Not this morning, when it seems there’s no one else in the world but the two of us.” She heard his remorse, and it made her sad. “We’re not alone in the world, Cassandra, and before much longer it’s going to come crashing in on us with a vengeance. When that happens, will you still feel as you do now?”
“I could promise you I won’t have regrets, but you’re not going to believe me, are you?”
“Not today,” he said softly.
“All right.” Cassandra picked up the pajama top from the floor and carried it into the bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind her. She didn’t cry. Tears were for death and destruction and heartbreak, not simple failures. That’s what this was, after all. A failure. She was a failure at seduction.
She slipped on the pajama top and buttoned it as she left the bedroom. A large breakfast was called for, and she didn’t remember what Lexie had in her kitchen. Surely the makings for pancakes or muffins were in the cupboard.
No, she didn’t cry, and she didn’t get a little angry. Her mind whirled with possibilities and plans and scenarios. Maybe she was a failure as a seductress, but she hadn’t had any practice in the past so she had to start from scratch. Since she had no doubts that Kadir wanted her, she didn’t think the task would be too terribly difficult.
And even though she had failed, thus far, she wasn’t about to give up. What she’d wanted had changed, but her personality had not. She was still a sledgehammer, and she still went after everything she wanted with fierce determination.
A heavenly scent assaulted Kadir as he left the bedroom behind. Sweet and cinnamony, the smells of something baking filled the house. He’d been afraid that Cassandra wou
ld take offense at his refusal of her proposition, but that was a chance he had to take. A woman didn’t change her mind overnight. Well, sometimes she did, but it was never a well-thought-out change of intentions. It was nice that she was relieved to find him alive, but he didn’t want Cassandra to sleep with him this morning, and lament doing so by the time night fell once again.
But since he heard cheerful humming drifting from the kitchen, along with the heavenly smell, she had apparently survived his refusal quite well.
She still wore her pajamas, he saw as he stepped into the kitchen. He himself had found some clothes in the spare bedroom closet, which came very close to fitting him, as the fishing clothes had done yesterday. Worn blue jeans, a green cotton button-up shirt and worn deck shoes would do until he could buy something new.
With what, he did not know. He was wealthy man, but he had no cash on him and he was believed to be dead.
“Do you like muffins?” Cassandra asked as she peeked into the oven. “Hmmm. Almost done. Another three or four minutes, I’d guess.” She stood and turned, and when she saw his face her smile faded and he actually saw her twitch. “Good heavens, what have you done?”
Kadir laid a hand on his smooth cheek. “I shaved.” He did not tell her that the idea of shaving had originally come from glimpsing the redness of her cheeks and chin after they’d kissed. He did not want to hurt her, not even in that small way. “I would like those who believe me to be dead to continue in that belief. After we eat those muffins, I would like for you to cut my hair. With the physical changes and other certain precautions, no one will recognize me.”
Once her shock faded, she smiled in obvious approval. “I like it. You look younger without the beard, and—” she cocked her head slightly and studied him well “—different. The clothes make a big difference, too. Once we cut your hair, only someone who knows you very well will recognize you.”
He didn’t bother to tell Cassandra that it was likely someone who knew him very well who had been the one to betray him.
She walked toward him, still seeming not at all disturbed by what he had counted on as being a bone of contention. Most women did not take rejection so well. Maybe she’d recognized that he was right in calling an end to what had almost happened in her bed. That was always possible. Not likely, but possible. Cassandra Klein was a sensible woman, after all.
Upon reaching him, she lifted her hand and touched his cheek. “Nice.” And then she went up on her toes and laid her mouth over his.
She kissed him. Her arms did not go around him; his did not go around her. Still, his body responded. His very world tilted.
And then she dropped away, with a smile on her face. “No need to look at me that way, Kadir. I had to know what it was like to kiss you without the beard, now didn’t I?”
It sounded like a woman’s convoluted reasoning, but he didn’t dare to argue with her.
As if nothing had happened, she said, “The muffins are ready. I hope you’re hungry. A woman can’t just make two or three muffins, so we might as well eat hearty.”
If the kiss was Cassandra’s idea of revenge, if it was her way of tossing his well-meant refusal back in his face and making him taste regret all over again—then she was winning this particular battle.
So Kadir did the only thing he could think of. As he sat down at the small breakfast table with coffee and milk and a plate of muffins, he said, “Last night you had a gun.” He reached for a warm muffin. “I want it.”
Chapter 9
Kadir handled Lexie’s six-shooter in a way that assured Cassandra he was more familiar with weapons than she. He’d found the proper tools for cleaning the gun in a kit that was stored in the back of the hallway closet. Extra ammunition was stashed there, too, and he had gladly retrieved it. He’d very precisely and smoothly inspected and cleaned the six-shooter and loaded it. He was now examining the weapon once again.
As if he felt her gaze, Kadir lifted his head and looked squarely at her. She still wasn’t accustomed to the smooth cheeks and chin, but she liked the look. Losing the beard changed his appearance drastically. Once his hair was cut, no one would recognize him.
Well, he’d likely need dark sunglasses to make the disguise complete. She’d recognize those eyes anywhere.
“You’re staring,” he said, only slightly accusing.
“Sorry. I’ve never before seen a diplomat who was so comfortable and capable with guns.”
He shrugged and finished putting the weapon together. “I wasn’t always a diplomat.”
To be sure. Kadir was unlike any other ambassador she’d ever met, and since she had decided he was the one man in the world for her, should she ask for more details? On the one hand, he might feel such questions were too personal, not proper for a diplomat and his aide. He remained leery of her this morning, suspicious of her motives. If she pushed too hard, he was very likely to go off and handle this alone. She wanted to help; she needed to be involved.
But on the other hand, she wanted to know Kadir as deeply and completely as possible, and she didn’t know how much time they had for such luxuries.
“You were a soldier?”
“Yes,” he answered briefly.
“What made you decide to become an ambassador?”
The gun was reassembled, cleaned and readied to Kadir’s satisfaction. He placed it on the table before him, and studied her with eyes that sometimes seemed to see too much. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you while you cut my hair.”
They went into the hallway bathroom, which was slightly larger than the one off the master bedroom, and Kadir sat on the edge of the tub. Cassandra ordered him to remove his shirt, and he did. When that was done, she tossed a towel over his shoulders and began to cut. Cautiously, carefully, she cut his curling hair.
Just as she was about to prompt him to begin, he spoke.
“I had a sister,” he said. “Her name was Amala, and she was three years older than I.”
Kadir spoke of his sister in the past tense. That, and the tone of Kadir’s voice, told Cassandra that Amala was dead. She thought of how hard it would be to lose one of her sisters. There was no need to tell him she was sorry, that she felt his pain. He knew.
“At the age of twenty Amala fell in love, but my father refused to give his permission for the marriage she desired. He arranged a marriage with a more suitable man, a wealthier, more powerful, more influential man. Amala didn’t care for this man who was chosen by our father, but she had no choice but to do as was directed. That was the custom.”
It was a barbaric custom, but she didn’t point that out. Again, Kadir knew.
“Amala was a good daughter, so she married the man our father chose, and for a while she seemed content enough. Not happy. I don’t believe I ever saw happiness in her after she was wed, but neither did I believe her to be unhappy. If I had known…” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “But I did not, and it does no good to wish to step into the past and correct our mistakes. We can only move forward.”
“That’s true,” Cassandra said gently.
“He killed her.”
The news came without warning, and Cassandra flinched.
“Her husband caught her communicating with the man she had once desired to take as her husband, and he murdered her. He wrapped his hands around her neck and choked the life out of her, and crammed the letter she’d been writing down her throat. When that was done, he claimed that the taking of life was his due as husband to an unfaithful wife. As if to write a letter to an old friend was infidelity. As if Amala belonged to him, and it was his right to extinguish her life.”
“I’m so sorry.” Cassandra stopped cutting and laid her hands on Kadir’s shoulders. Yes, he knew, but still she wanted to say the words to comfort him. He laid a hand over hers, briefly, and then dropped that hand as if it were not a good idea to touch her in even such a simple way. “That must have been very difficult for your family.”
“Yes, it was. We wanted just
ice, but there was no justice for Amala. The taking of her life by a wronged husband was considered appropriate in the eyes of the law.”
“What happened to him?”
For a moment Kadir was silent, and Cassandra cut a longish strand of hair. Her fingers brushed his scalp, ruffling newly cut curls and offering a bit of silent comfort.
“Nothing,” he said softly as her fingers raked across the back of his head. “My father became ill and never recovered. He died a year later. My mother, whose joy died with her only daughter, passed away less than six months later. But Zahid went on as if nothing had changed. For him, I suppose nothing had changed.”
“Zahid Bin-Asfour, the man who’s trying to kill you?”
“Yes. There have been so many times when I’ve wished that I’d followed my first instinct and put a bullet in his brain when I heard the news. He left Kahani a few months after he murdered my sister, even though he had broken no law. I almost followed him. It would not have been easy, but I could have tracked Zahid down and killed him in such a way that no one would ever have known I did it. I was twenty-one years old, a soldier who believed that such vengeance was not only possible but just.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.” For a moment he was silent, and Cassandra suspected he was finished, at least for now. And then he continued. “I wanted Zahid dead, but more than that I wanted the country I call home to be a place where such things don’t happen. To transform the very customs of a people takes a long time. It takes handshakes and compromise and perseverance. Big changes don’t occur with the pulling of a trigger…but there are days when I wish I had made that choice, instead of the one that brought me to this place in time.” He squirmed a little, obviously uncomfortable. “It is no longer acceptable in Kahani for a man to take his wife’s life as if she were a possession of no importance to be done away with on a whim.”
“And you did that,” she said in a lowered voice. “You brought about that change.”
The Sheik and I Page 10