Her Royal Bed

by Laura Wright

  For Jane, leaving her brother’s house had been an incredibly difficult move. Rita had been angry with her husband for his foolishness and had on several occasions that morning tried to make him see reason and retract his demands on Jane. But he was resolute. He believed Bobby was out to hurt Jane, and Sakir had made it clear that he wouldn’t stand by and watch it happen.

  For just a brief moment, Sakir’s resolve had caused Jane to wonder about the man she was falling in love with, had caused her heart to flip-flop with fear. But she’d forced herself to look at the reality of the past few weeks, and had come to the conclusion that her fear was just her insecurity talking.

  As she’d walked Jane to the rental car, Rita had made her promise that this move would be temporary. While Jane made her sister-in-law see that it was Sakir’s decision and fence to mend, Jane assured Rita that she would continue to plan little Daya’s party from Bobby’s place.

  Tara stayed relatively silent on the drive, though she kept her hand over Jane’s for most of the way in reassurance and support. After all, when it came down to it, they had been family forever, and nothing would divide them.

  Pulling into KC Ranch felt good, felt right. Jane had thought she might feel beholden to Bobby, but she didn’t. She was excited to see him and to be on the ranch where so much good was happening—where she felt of use to the world.

  Bobby and Abel met them when they came to a dusty halt in front of the house, and helped them both out of the car.

  “Welcome,” Bobby said, taking Jane’s hand and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Had breakfast yet?”

  “No,” said Jane, her heart warming at the endearing greeting. “I’m not all that hungry, though.”

  Abel took Tara’s hand as well and gave her a grin. “How ’bout I take you up to the house for some coffee and eggs?”

  Tara glanced in Jane’s direction, a wistful expression on her face. Jane recognized it at once. Whenever Tara had been away from her beloved pottery for too long, she wore that expression. “I should help Jane get unpacked.”

  “No, Mom,” Jane assured her. “You go.”

  “Don’t you worry, Tara,” said Bobby magnanimously, heading for the trunk of the car. “I’ll give her a hand.”

  “All right.” Tara walked up the front steps with Abel, looking very pleased.

  “Looks like my mother’s got one heck of a crush,” said Jane as she followed Bobby around the side of the house.

  Carrying all three suitcases as though they were nothing more than three matchboxes, Bobby chuckled. “She’s not the only one.”

  “Abel’s got it bad?”

  “Like a slap in the neck, darlin’.”

  They were still laughing when Bobby stopped in front of a sweet little cottage. Painted white with dark-green trim, the place was lovely. Big enough for two with lots of flowers and plants and trees, even a small vegetable garden along the side that was boasting two rows of ruby-red tomatoes.

  They walked up the porch steps and Jane eyed a white porch swing. “Abel lives here?” she asked, surprise evident in her voice.

  “I know. Ruddy old bachelor lives like a peacock.”

  “It’s so neat and clean.”

  “His former wife’s influence. Never been able to shed that thick skin.” Bobby set the bags down on stripped hardwood floor. “We gave it a good cleaning, put fresh linens and towels out.”

  “Thank you.” Feeling suddenly weary, Jane sat on the couch and rubbed her eyes.

  Bobby sat beside her. “Everything’ll be okay, Jane.”

  “You think so?”

  He didn’t answer her.

  “A few months ago, my life ran a perfectly straight track, and now it’s a damn mess. Found out about my real father, about this whole royalty thing…Emand…my brothers.” Through an open window, the faint scent of hay and earth wafted in on a breeze. Jane looked up at Bobby, her head heavy, her heart, too. “I feel lost. I thought if I came to Texas—if I left Emand and that life for a while—I’d gain some perspective, be able to see that clear path again. Maybe settle into a life.”

  “You will,” Bobby assured her, though his eyes were slow to echo that statement. “It’ll come. You have to give it time. You can’t expect things to jump into place minutes after they’re tossed around.”

  A grin tugged at her mouth. “Another one of your dad’s sayings?”

  “Nope. That one’s all me.”

  Her gaze ran over him, from knocked-around boots to weathered jeans and white T-shirt. He looked like the best thing she’d ever seen, and she hoped to God her brother was wrong. “Thanks, Bobby.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “Being a friend.”

  Something dark and undefined moved over his eyes and he looked away. The look unnerved her to her very bones. “Well, maybe I should unpack.”

  “Right.” He stood quickly. “I have a few chores to finish. You’ll be all right here?”

  “Sure.”

  After he left, Jane unpacked, refusing to think about what could be. Before she went to work on her own future, she had one important task to complete.

  With a steaming cup of tea in her hand, she sat at a little desk beside the open bay window and jumped into the party plans for the daughter of the man she wasn’t speaking to—but the man she had come to love as a brother.

  Eleven

  Bobby had never had a girl in his bed before.

  Sounded crazy for a man his age, but he’d always made it a practice to keep women away from his home. It had started out as a protection for his sister, but had continued as a protection for himself. And until Jane Hefner had come into his life, he’d succeeded with that practice. Hell, until Jane, he’d climbed in and out of women’s beds, between their starched sheets and beside their fancy pillows.

  Didn’t want that anymore. Didn’t want other women, and didn’t want to keep his bed cold.

  “So what do you think?”

  Lying on the mattress, head on a pillow, Bobby gazed at the woman who had stolen his heart. She sat, legs crossed, sheet tangled, on his bed, holding a pen and a pad of paper. Bobby hated the paper. It was one of those big, yellow legal pads that blocked his view of her pale breasts and pink nipples.

  He sighed, the heaviness of a day spent in lovemaking still clinging to his body. As Abel had taken Tara back to the cottage to get her settled and pack a picnic lunch, Jane had come to the main house to work on her menu for the party. But she’d only got as far as the wine and beer list before Bobby had asked her to his bed.

  “Read it over again,” he said, craning his neck to see over the yellow legal pad.

  Jane’s pen moved down the paper as she spoke. “Tender smoked brisket, cheese enchiladas, mesquite-grilled chicken, beef flautas with a red-pepper cream sauce. Beans and rice, of course, and Tara’s cloverleaf rolls.”

  “Don’t forget about the salads. Got to have a fancy coleslaw and potato salad. Those uppity types love potato salad, but they won’t admit it.” He took one of her soft feet in his hand and rubbed the instep. “They’re so tight in the hind-parts they won’t put it on their plate unless it’s gourmet—like with red or purple potatoes or some such nonsense.”

  “Got it. Nonsense potatoes.” She laughed as she wrote.

  “What about desserts?”

  “We’re having hot peach cobbler, vanilla buttermilk pie and chocolate fudge pecan pie.”

  “Oh, darlin’, my mouth’s watering.” Abandoning her foot, he reached for the yellow legal pad and pulled it down an inch or two so he could see her face, and the supple rise of her breasts. “Or maybe that’s just because I’m looking at you.”

  She grinned. “You know your flattery will get you everywhere?”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Hard as stone, Bobby flipped back the sheet and grinned. Jane laughed and held her notebook up as a shield. “I still have three staff members to hire.” She pointed at the ancient clock on the bedside table. “And I have to meet them
in one hour.”

  Bobby seized her ankles and pulled her to him. “Plenty of time.”

  The notebook slipped from Jane’s hand and landed with a dull thud on the rug as Bobby splayed her thighs, and with a wicked grin, lowered his head.

  Luck was with her.

  Out of the five people Jane had interviewed, she’d found three new fabulous staff members to hire. One young man who worked for his mother’s restaurant, but wanted some experience elsewhere was not only going to cook, but also was actually going to act as Jane’s buyer since he knew the best butchers, farmers and wholesale suppliers in town.

  Things were falling into place, and Daya was going to have a wonderful party, despite all the family craziness surrounding the festivities.

  “Jane?”

  With a start, Jane turned. Walking up Delano Street, baby Daya in tow, was Rita. Dressed in a pale-pink track suit, the woman smiled warmly and gave Jane a big hug when they met.

  Her lips tucked under her teeth contemplatively, Rita asked, “Everything okay?”

  “Fine. Great, in fact.” For the next several minutes, Jane filled Rita in on the new staff and the menu she’d concocted that morning in Bobby’s bed. “We’ll be ready to go on Saturday. I’ll probably need to come over on Friday to set up.”

  Rita cocked her head to the side. “You’re welcome anytime, you know that.”

  As people milled up and down the street, gazing in shop windows, laughing or scolding their children, Jane looked directly at her sister-in-law with a sad smile. “How’s my brother?”

  “Doesn’t show his feelings much, but I can tell that he’s very upset.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “He won’t budge.”

  “He’s stubborn.”

  Rita gave a melancholy laugh and nodded. “Yes. Please don’t hate him, Jane.”

  “Oh, God.” Shaking her head, Jane tried to explain what was so heavy on her heart. “I don’t hate him. I’m not even mad at him. I just won’t be dictated to. Even if this relationship with Bobby turns out exactly the way Sakir believes it will, it’ll be my doing, my choice.”

  A proud gleam twinkled in Rita’s blue eyes. “He had to get used to one strong woman in his life, and he’ll do it again.” She smiled at her baby. “And again, no doubt.”

  Jane laughed. “No doubt.”

  “So, how are things with Bobby?” asked Rita gingerly, her eyes twinkling once again.

  Jane knew she was beaming, but she didn’t care. “Wonderful.”

  Rita smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” Little Daya started to fuss and the three of them walked down the street toward Market Place. The question that weighed heavily on Jane’s heart finally inched its way to her lips. “Do you think it’s possible to heal this rift between Sakir and Bobby?”

  With a shrug, Rita said, “I don’t know. Over time, maybe.”

  “I hope so.”

  A full minute passed as they crossed the street. Once at the other side, Rita paused and gave Jane a knowing smile. “So, when did you realize you were in love with him?”

  Jane actually pretended to look confused for a moment, which made Rita break out into a fit of laughter. “Oh, c’mon, sis.”

  Tucking her arm through Rita’s, Jane sighed as they walked up Grand Avenue. “Well, I guess it was the night he sneaked into your house and into my bed.”

  When Abel Garret had something serious on his mind, he stood stock-still, his legs splayed, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes fixed into two narrow slits. It was a look Bobby normally paid attention to, maybe even questioned if he had the time. But today, he had a feeling Abel’s mood wasn’t related to troubles with KC Ranch.

  “Something to say?” asked Bobby in a dry voice.

  A sound close to a grunt echoed from Abel’s throat. “What’s going on between you two?

  With a glare, Bobby pointed to himself, then the animal beside him. “Trainer, horse.”

  Abel scowled. “I’m talking about you and Jane.”

  “Right. That makes more sense.”

  “Callahan, you answer me.”

  Bobby gave the mare beside him a pat and faced his foreman. The man wore his troubled fatherly expression—the one that made Bobby experience equal parts of frustration and fondness. “I like the girl, okay?”

  “I think it’s far more than that, and so does her mama.”

  Bobby pulled off his Stetson. He felt damn hot for a relatively cool fall day. “Hasn’t Jane made it clear? She doesn’t want anyone interfering in this…this…whatever we got going here—and neither do I.”

  “Tough,” said Abel brusquely.

  Bobby cursed and walked away from him, toward the corral gate.

  Abel followed him. “Family’s always involved. May not like it, but there it is.”

  Swatting at an irritating pair of flies, Bobby whirled on Abel. “I don’t have any family.”

  Abel looked as if he’d been punched, and the sight made Bobby’s insides kick. He had this angry streak in him, born out of a promise he’d made to a man whose vow for vengeance wasn’t altogether sure he believed in anymore, and fed by a vile bag of revenge he was about to dump on the woman who had made his life livable again.

  “Listen, Abel—” he began, but the older man was having none of it.

  Through gritted teeth, Abel said, “Say whatever you want to me, but I’m serious about this girl. She’s in love with you, Bobby. Sure as a shot.”

  Bobby’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to hear it, yet he already knew that what Abel said was true.

  “Just take care,” Abel added with a shrug, opening the gate.

  Noncommittally, Bobby nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I think you’d be feeling something strong for her, too, but you’ll stamp that out, won’t you?”

  “None of your business.” Abel didn’t know about the vow Bobby had made to his father, but he was sure acting like he knew something.

  “Fine. Fine.” The older man waved him off and went down the path toward the house.

  “Hey.” Bobby called after him. “Where you going?”

  Abel stopped, glanced over his shoulder. “Tara and I are camping out by the lake tonight. She wants to lie on her back and see the stars.”

  “See the stars…”

  Abel smiled a little sadly. “Through me. You know, that woman may be blind, but she sees a helluva lot more than the rest of us.”

  Tipping his Stetson, Abel turned and headed toward the house. Leaning against the fence, Bobby reached into his pocket, took out the watch his father had given him, the one with the old man’s picture inside. Bobby stared into the rugged face and felt as though the weight of his stallion leaned heavily on his back. Felt a powerful struggle deep within his heart.

  What was he doing? His life, once simple and uncomplicated, had turned into a web of lies and lust and, more than possibly, love. He didn’t want to look at that last part, didn’t want to admit that he was going to bring down the woman he needed above all others for a man who no longer walked the earth.

  But the promise—that goddamn vow—couldn’t be laid to rest without acting on it.

  The sound of tires on gravel had him looking up. Someone was coming up the drive. He headed in that direction, arriving just in time to see a long, black car come to an easy, money-soft stop in front of the ranch house.

  At first, Bobby thought it was Sakir, and he was glad. He was ready for a war of words, maybe a few punches. He felt wired as hell.

  But the man who stepped out of the Mercedes wasn’t Sakir, though he sure had the look of him.

  “Bobby Callahan?”

  Bobby nodded. “That’s right.”

  “I am Zayad Al-Nayhal. I wish to see my sister.”

  Twelve

  The first thing Jane saw when she got back to KC Ranch that afternoon was Bobby, sweaty and serious out in the ring, training a particularly lovely jet-black stallion.

  The second was Zay
ad Al-Nayhal.

  Her eldest brother, the reigning Sultan of Emand, stood regally beside the steel fence in a stark-white kaftan, his chin hard, and his dark gaze intent on the animal and rider before him.

  Jane’s heart gave a nervous lurch, which irritated the heck out of her. She hated feeling anxious. But even though her best friend, Mariah, had softened Zayad a little, he was still an intimidating presence. Jane knew that if Zayad had come to Bobby’s ranch to try to force the royal Al-Nayhal will on her, she was going to need every ounce of strength she possessed to stand up to him.

  She watched him watch Bobby, an air of superiority affixed to his handsome countenance—or was it interest? She couldn’t tell. But the former would no doubt be the surest guess. Zayad could not help his attitude. After all, he’d grown up in a palace with an armload of servants to do his every bidding.

  What was he doing here? Jane wondered, biting her lip thoughtfully. He wasn’t supposed to have arrived in Texas until Friday. Sakir must have called him, told him what had happened and asked him to come and take control of their little sister.

  With a forced smile that slowly morphed into a real one, she walked up to her brother and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Well, what do we have here?”

  Rarely startled, Zayad turned easily. “Hello, Jane,” he said, his dark eyes intent, his tone warm. “Mr. Callahan was kind enough to allow me to watch his training session, and show me a few of his stallions. This one is a particularly beautiful beast.”

  He wrapped her in his arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “My brother has told me what transpired between you.”

  So, Sakir had called him. Not much of a shock there. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the house to greet you, but my mother and I—”

  “Yes, I know,” interrupted Zayad before releasing a weighty breath. “Sakir is acting the fool.”