by Laura Wright
“Sure, but I won’t be asking your brother for permission.”
“No.” His shot of cold humor put a slight damper on her romantic feeling, but she brushed it away.
“See you in an hour?”
“I thought you said two.”
“I don’t want to wait that long. Do you?”
“No.” The excitement that ran a marathon through her blood mingled irritatingly with caution, brought on by last night, and her judgment and blind hope that he was trustworthy.
“Bye, darlin’”
“Bye.” As Jane hung up the phone, slipped out of her robe and headed for the bathroom, she wondered what she was in for downstairs. She wondered if her brother would raise holy hell when he found out what she was doing.
But as soon as she stepped under the hot spray of the shower, she let her mind fall to more appealing queries, such as what delights awaited her on her first real date with Bobby Callahan.
Forty minutes later, down in Sakir’s very masculine, very brown leather-and mahogany-paneled library, Jane got the answer to her first question.
Not holy hell, but definite displeasure.
“He is using you, Jane.”
Dressed in a white kaftan, her brother looked impenetrable and uncompromising sitting behind his desk.
Jane stood before him wearing a pale-green sweater, white jeans and a determined set to her chin. “I don’t think so, Sakir, but even if that were true, it’s my choice to make.”
“Rita has told me that she spoke to you regarding the history of Bobby Callahan and myself.”
“Yes.”
“The man will do anything to get back at me, including hurting the members of my family, I am certain of it.” He leaned forward, lifted his brows. “He despises me that much.”
“Does he have a right to?” The question fell from her mouth without thought, and she quickly added, “In the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I see a great man, an honorable, caring man. But we all do things that live in the gray. Was this deal with Callahan one of those moments?”
His mouth set in a thin line, Sakir uttered, “You ask your brother such a question?”
“I ask my brother for the truth, that’s all.” She sighed, sat in the chair opposite him and laid a hand over his. “I’m a big girl, Sakir. I can handle the truth. Whatever it is.”
The ire in his eyes and the tight expression of a businessman he wore, softened. “You will always receive the truth from me. Be assured of that.”
She offered him a gentle smile. “Thank you.”
He nodded, then exhaled heavily. “There was no maliciousness in the procurement of Bobby Callahan’s land. After the drilling company left, the land was in a bad state. They had dug and torn the soil and spilled oil everywhere. It was an environmental nightmare. The elder Callahan could not care for, or repair, the property, and the bank was foreclosing. If it had not been I who made the purchase, it would have been someone else. And I have no doubt that buyer would not have been as generous in the end.”
“You’re talking about how you allowed Bobby to buy back a few acres of the land?”
“Correct. I am sorry about his father’s death, but the anger he has for me is misplaced. And his unreasonable manner and quick anger make him dangerous.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Jane tossed out, but in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but wonder. Her stomach tightened with worry, and the reaction irritated her no end.
“You saw him last night,” Sakir continued. “He was acting like a madman.”
“He was angry, and he clearly holds a grudge the size of Texas against you. But a madman? No way.”
“I will not allow you to walk into that fire, Jane.”
She slipped her hand from his and laughed. “Allow me?”
It had been close to ten years since she’d heard words like that, and even then she’d rejected them. Most of the time. Coming from a man, a command such as this one really made her blood simmer. After all, she’d had no father, no male figure of authority in her life, and she wasn’t looking for one now.
Leaning back in his chair, Sakir stared at her, his eyebrows set. “You must understand. You are Al-Nayhal. You are my sister, and I—” He broke off, looking rather embarrassed, but continued at any rate. “I have come to care for you a great deal.”
An understanding smile nudged at the corner of her mouth. Clearly, it was far easier for her to show emotion than Sakir. “I love you, too, big brother.”
“I do not want to see you hurt. Can you not understand this?”
“Of course.”
“Then you will abide by my decision.”
“No.” She wasn’t about to roll over and play the “little sister,” no matter what judgments Sakir had made about Bobby’s motives in asking her out.
“You are as stubborn as my wife,” Sakir grumbled.
She laughed and stood. “Thank you. I take that as a compliment. Rita’s wonderful.”
“Yes.”
“Listen, I’ve been making my own choices for ten years now, and I’ve done a pretty good job of it.” She walked around his desk, leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Trust me, okay?”
His gaze found hers, and there was unabashed worry there. “It is Bobby Callahan I do not trust.”
The doorbell rang just then, and Jane offered Sakir one last, faith-inducing smile before she turned her back on him and left the room.
If it were possible, Jane looked even more beautiful in a pair of form-fitting white jeans than she had in all that finery she’d worn the first night they’d met. Course, that could be just his taste, Bobby thought, shoving his truck into third as he shot up Hollyhock Drive. Sure, he liked dresses on a woman, but nothing could beat denim on curves.
Forcing his gaze onto the road and away from her slim thighs, he asked, “Have you had breakfast?”
“You hardly gave me time,” she replied, a smile in her voice.
“Sorry about that.”
“No, you’re not.”
He turned to her, grinned sinfully. “No, I’m not. I wanted to see you.”
A slight pink blush crept up her neck, matching the haze around the morning sun before them. Bobby thought it was just about the sexiest sight he’d ever seen, and he wondered if he’d be able to pull this off—stay unaffected with this woman.
“So,” she said, tugging him from his thoughts. “Where are we going?”
“A great place with real Texas ambiance and one helluva chef.”
“Sounds good.”
But when they turned into a driveway marked Private Property and drove through a set of weathered iron gates emblazoned with the letters KC Jane turned to him, her dark eyebrows raised. “What are the specials today, chef?”
He chuckled. “Bacon, eggs, maybe a slice or two of toast if I manage not to burn it.”
Her gaze shifted to the landscape around his home. The pasture land, grazing horses, miles of sky above. No matter what the size of his property now, Bobby thought with a deep sense of melancholy, it was still home and it always felt right to be there.
She turned back to him. “Breakfast at your house. That’s pretty intimate.” Her full lips curved up at the corners. “And I thought we were taking things slow.”
Bobby just grinned as he brought the truck to a dusty halt in front of his ranch house. The last thing he wanted with this woman was slow. Ever since they’d made love, he’d ached to touch her again, have her beneath him, on top of him, in front of him. But for his plan to come off, he needed to take his time, give her a little romance. Hell, he might even enjoy it.
He was quick to step out the driver’s side and walk around the truck. He helped Jane out, then took her hand. “Well, I suppose I’d better admit it. I didn’t bring you here just for breakfast.”
Mock shock settled over her features. “No kidding.”
“You implying I’m some kind of rogue cowboy?” Bobby asked lightly as they walked around the side of the house and do
wn the stone pathway.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Shifting the Stetson on his head, he laughed. “Well, it’d be the truth, on most days.”
“But not today?”
“Today, I brought you here so you could see who I was. After last night, I don’t think you got a pretty clear picture.”
The air around them cooled, and Jane’s voice dropped. “Maybe not.”
She had reservations about him, he knew. And rightly so. It was also clear as river water that she was confused, not sure what he was about and what he was after.
Dammit.
Every time he looked into those dark-jade eyes of hers, Bobby had the same problem. He needed to keep his cool, stay in control of the situation and himself if he was going to finish this mess with the Al-Nayhals and get his father’s ghost off his back once and for all.
“This.” They reached the corral then, and Bobby released her hand and pointed into the ring. “This is who I am. This is why I cling tight to this land, and its past. Here’s my passion, Jane.”
With curious eyes, Bobby watched her take in the sight before her, then turned to see what she was seeing. While three children waited atop their horses, Abel helped sixteen-year-old Eli Harrison up the ramp and out of his wheelchair, then onto the back of Sweet Grace, a gray mare. Eli laughed and patted his horse, and while the other kids whooped and clapped excitedly around him, one of the ranch assistants belted Eli securely into place.
With a deep inhale, Jane turned her gaze from the corral and gave him a brilliant smile. “I’d like to meet them.”
A shot of surprise registered in Bobby’s gut, and he returned her smile. He hadn’t expected her to say that. Maybe how wonderful the place was or what great work he was doing—the usual thing women said when they stopped by the ranch. But as he’d suspected from the first night they’d met, Jane Hefner Al-Nayhal was far from the usual.
“How about after breakfast?” he asked, taking her hand again. “And after they finish their lesson?”
She squeezed his hand. “Okay.”
With a wave to Abel, Bobby led Jane away from the corral, back down the path and through the yard. When they entered the house, Deacon, Abel’s ancient dog, was asleep on the rug in the large kitchen. The spotted brown mutt barely raised his lids when they walked in.
Bobby motioned for her to have a seat at the nicked wood table over by the bay window. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get to work in here.”
“Weren’t you the one who wanted the woman doing all the cooking in the kitchen?” Jane teased, sitting down at the table and smiling.
“That’s not what I said and you know it.”
Elbows on the table, chin resting on the back of her hand, she looked too comfortable in his house, at his kitchen table. “Okay, you said something like you appreciate it when a woman can cook.”
“Damn right.” He turned back to the counter and cracked a few eggs into a bowl, then grabbed a fork. “Just as you get to appreciate a man who can cook.”
“Only if he doesn’t burn the toast.”
He tossed her a wicked glare, and she laughed.
“You sure you don’t need any help?”
“I can make bacon and eggs with my eyes closed, darlin’.”
She gave a soft whistle. “Now, that’s something I’d like to see,” she said, easing herself out of her chair and onto the floor, where she hunkered down next to the dog.
With a grand yawn, Deacon opened his eyes and rolled to his back, ready for a few scratches from the pretty lady who was visiting his bit of rug. The scene was a nice one—easy conversation as Bobby stirred eggs, Jane kissing Deacon’s dusty face as she rubbed his pink belly. For just a moment, Bobby almost forgot the reason she was here.
Almost.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting across from each other at the table, eggs and bacon before them. Though she ate heartily, Jane kept glancing out the window at the yard and corral beyond. “Must be comforting to know your future.”
The statement had Bobby pausing, a slice of toast poised at his lips. “What do you mean?”
She gestured around the kitchen. “You have this place, and a clear purpose. You know who you are and what you want and where you’re going to be in ten years.”
Bobby bit into the charred toast. He’d never thought of himself as set in his life, sure of his future. Maybe because he was so damn obsessed with the past. He caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know what you want, Jane?”
“I thought I did.”
“You’re a member of a royal family now, you can probably do whatever you want.”
“If we’re talking about money, sure, but that’s never where true happiness and fulfillment lie, is it?”
True happiness? Christ, he didn’t know. He hadn’t known true happiness since he was a kid, hanging out with his family, back when they were whole and happy. Bobby probably wouldn’t know true happiness now if it rose up and bit him on the chin. And if it did, he’d push it away. He didn’t deserve to feel good—not yet.
Jane continued, “The thing is, money and situation can’t bring about purpose. That has to come from inside your gut.” She placed her fork on her plate and sighed. “I thought opening my own restaurant was the be-all and end-all for me, but now I’m not so sure. What gets to me is that I was so sure of it before, back in California. The restaurant of my own, a family of my own someday. That was my passion, what drove me. Then this man comes along and tells me he’s my brother—that back when my mother worked in politics, she met a man and had a short-term affair with him, and that this man was my father. Oh, and right, he also happened to be the Sultan of Emand—”
“What?” Bobby prompted, watching her mouth drop into a apprehensive frown before his eyes. The sight bothered him far more than it should.
“Well,” she said, shrugging. “I was sort of tossed into someone else’s life—a life that would probably thrill most people. I mean, Emand is beautiful and the people are great and I want to want to be a part of them. But I found myself only feeling discontented there, and then guilty because of all the wonderful things my brothers have given me, offered to me. But, honestly, that life—their life—makes me uncomfortable. I’ve never been out in front, you know? Celebrity holds no appeal for me. I like simple. I like being behind the scenes.”
“In the kitchen,” he said, following her thought, though the mutual joke made her smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I know the truth about where I come from, and having brothers is a gift, but my life doesn’t seem to be my own anymore.”
“Are your brothers making the decisions for you?” he said, his smile wavering as a thread of contempt lined his query.
Her large, almond-shaped eyes held understanding. “No, Bobby. There’s no forcing me to do what I don’t want to do. But I do feel obligated to try to be an Al-Nayhal. That’s why I went to Emand, to experience the life and the culture, to learn as much as I could about my father and his family. And it was wonderful. But I felt like a tourist. I felt like I wanted to go home.”
Bobby stared at her. Not since his parents were alive had there been such a conversation at his kitchen table. Most meals, he and Abel just talked about familiar things—the ranch, the food, the past, what had to be done the following day. On occasion a local politician’s name would be tossed around, dragged through the mud, but that was about it. Never were there feelings and hopes and flowery stuff like that mentioned.
“Maybe you just want what every woman wants,” Bobby pointed out, leaning back in his chair.
Her gaze moved over him in a slow, covetous way that made his chest and groin tighten simultaneously.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Security.”
“In love or money?”
“In life.”
She smiled then, a deep, warm smile that cut into his gut like a hot knife. “How did you get so insightful?” she asked.
“My sister probably,” he said without giving it much thought. “Despite her disability, that girl had wisdom beyond her years. She always knew what was really important.”
Kimmy had tried to make Bobby see what was important in life, too. But trying to teach a dead heart to beat again was an impossible task and he’d failed her time and time again in everything but the ranch.
Bobby stared into the green eyes of the woman who made his pulse shift erratically. In this, he wouldn’t fail his sister or his father. Jane Hefner Al-Nayhal had complimented him on the direction he’d taken with his choices and his future. Little did she know that Bobby was attempting to navigate her future as well, but in a direction not nearly as successful.
Five
Sara, Eli, Daniel and May.
They were four of the most wonderful children Jane had ever met. Talking with them and hearing how much they enjoyed coming to KC Ranch made her heart twist with admiration for the man who had made it all possible.
Bobby Callahan was a few feet away, saying goodbye to May and her parents. The bright and beautiful teenage girl, who had lost her sight just ten months ago, was a new student at the ranch. Bobby’s ranch foreman, Abel, had told Jane that the family traveled three hours each way to come to KC Ranch because of its reputation. He’d also told her that the girl had been completely closed down when she’d first arrived at the ranch. But the horses and the care of the staff had helped her crawl out of the dark place she was living in.
“Ready to go?” Bobby asked her.
Jane let her gaze travel over the sea of green and gravel, the trees and horses, and the sweet little ranch house that had felt warm and comfortable to a girl who regularly got lost in both the palace in Emand and Sakir’s home outside of Paradise. “Not really, but I do have plans this afternoon.”
“Another date?” Bobby asked casually, though the harsh grooves around his mouth hinted at his irritation at the thought.
A bolt of satisfaction knocked around in Jane’s belly, and she wondered if he was going to make good on his promise and give her a kiss. He’d already held her hand, a kiss was the natural progression—even for a man bent on slow moving.