Her Royal Bed (6 page)

“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.

S
ara, 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.

“Yes,” she said seriously. “I do have a date. With my sister-in-law and a shopping mall.”

His expression changed like quicksilver. Rigidity morphed into that lazy, roguish grin that made her knees buckle. He took her hand. “Let's go.”

Jane waved goodbye to Abel and the kids and headed toward the truck with Bobby. On the way back to Sakir and Rita's house, Jane reflected on her time at KC Ranch and how she'd felt so alive there surrounded by the kids, air and life that was being nurtured every day. And once again, she thought how lucky Bobby was to have made such a valuable choice.

“The kids liked you.”

Bobby's husky voice stole her from her thoughts, and she looked at him and smiled. “And I liked them. Maybe next time I can volunteer…maybe help out in the corral or make lunches or something.”

“We welcome any and all help,” he intoned seriously.

“You might regret saying that,” she said sardonically rolling down her window for a shot of the sweet, early-fall wind. “You just might be seeing me every day.”

“No regrets here,” he said, his voice oddly gentle.

The hungry expression in his blue eyes made Jane's throat tighten, made her feel as though she couldn't swallow properly. She cleared her throat. “I had a great time today.”

“Not disappointed in the humble surroundings?”

“Don't be silly,” she admonished halfheartedly. “I'm a simple girl. I don't need fancy, never have—just clean and comfortable and homey.”

His dark head tilted, his voice dropped. “Is that so?”

“That's so,” she insisted. “Except…”

He frowned. “Except what?”

“The next time,” she began as they turned into Sakir and Rita's long driveway, “why don't I make the toast?”

Bobby grinned suddenly. “I did warn you, darlin'.”

 

The mall was fifteen minutes outside of Paradise. The massive lump of concrete consisted of two department stores, ten specialty shops and a small food court. Not exactly the ideal place to shop for elegant linens, china and flatware. Jane had suggested they travel to Dallas or rent what they needed, but Rita had assured her that she wanted the party to be as warm and rustic as it was stylish, and rented settings might feel too impersonal.

Jane had been more than happy to hear that Rita didn't want a stuffy affair, but as she combed through
burgundy placemats that were made from a material she'd never heard of, she wondered if a happy medium were even possible here.

She tossed the items back onto the shelf and walked toward Rita, who was sitting on a bench holding Daya. Their faces were very close together and Rita was whispering something to her two-month old daughter. A combination of emotions swelled inside Jane—jealousy, affection, happiness, hope.

“How do you not eat her right up?” Jane said, coming to stand before them.

Rita kissed Daya. “I eat a large meal right before I pick her up to snuggle.”

Jane laughed. “Is having a baby the best thing in the world?”

“Definitely. Of course, it helps having a husband.”

“Yeah, and I bet Sakir changes her diapers,” Jane said sardonically.

“Actually he does. And in the middle of the night, too.”

“No way,” Jane said, aghast. She couldn't imagine her stoic brother changing poopy diapers at one in the morning.

“Men are funny, aren't they?” Rita stood up, cuddled the baby against her chest. “They only let you see one side of them until they trust you.”

As Jane helped her sister-in-law reorganize her stroller, shopping bags, diaper bag and blankets, she wondered if Bobby was only allowing her to see one side of him. She guessed he was. After all, they hadn't known each other very long. But that only led Jane to wonder what the other side of him looked like. Was it
the angry, bitter man she'd seen the other night or someone else?

“Let's walk, shall we?” Rita suggested.

“Sure. We could head over to Young's. I hear they have a wider selection and a china department. And on the way we can talk more about the menu.”

As the baby cooed and shoppers around them grabbed for the deals of the day, Rita explained, “I want something fun and interesting. Same as the food. Can that be any broader?” She laughed at herself. “My sister, Ava, has made me promise to have ribs, so we have to have those.”

Jane nodded. “I've never met your sister.”

“Nope, not yet. Ava and her husband, Jared and their little girl, Lily, have been away, in Florida. Disney-world, actually.” Ava rolled her eyes. “I can't even imagine Jared there, riding in teacups, standing next to Mickey for a photo op. Jared's great, but he's a pretty uptight guy.”

Jane laughed. “Can't wait to meet them.”

“You will. The whole gang will be at the party. Jared's grandmother, Muna, too. She's a trip.”

They were just crossing the threshold into Young's department store when Rita spotted something in the distance and gave a little gasp. She turned to Jane and grinned widely. “We're being followed.”

“What?”

“Well, actually, you're being followed.” Rita poked her finger in the direction of women's nightgowns and lingerie. “Over there.”

Jane looked in the direction that Rita indicated and
felt her heart drop into her shoes. That strange breathlessness she'd felt when she'd first seen him at the Turnbolts' party hit her again—and oddly just a few hours after she'd left him standing on her doorstep. Walking toward them, far too tall, dark and masculine to be shouldering through racks of white lace and silk, was Bobby Callahan. He was dressed in the same faded jeans, T-shirt, Stetson and boots, and he looked good enough to eat.

Bobby grinned at the two of them as he approached. “Afternoon, ladies.”

Jane smiled brilliantly at him. “Afternoon, Mr. Callahan.”

“How are you, Bobby?” Rita asked, a slight wariness threading her tone.

Bobby nodded. “Real good, thanks.”

“Shopping for undergarments?” Jane asked, eyeing the row of silk and cotton he'd just emerged from.

“Don't wear undergarments.” He winked at her, and when she blushed he laughed. He turned to Rita, saw her balancing the baby in one arm and a large shopping bag that hadn't been able to fit under the stroller in the other, and said immediately, “Let me help you with those, Mrs. Al-Nayhal.”

“Thanks,” Rita said, still sounding slightly uneasy, though she smiled pleasantly as he took the bag, then pushed the stroller through the store as they all walked along.

“So what are you shopping for?” Jane asked him, clearly wondering why he had come to search her out just hours after they'd seen each other.

“A new toaster.”

At his grin, Jane laughed.

Bobby felt like the back end of an ass right now. He hated lying, especially as he stared straight into those bright-green eyes of Jane's, but his vow demanded that he use whatever means necessary to accomplish his goal. He knew that Sakir hated him, which probably meant that his wife felt less than fine with Bobby dating Jane. And Bobby needed to see Jane without any chance of interference. If Rita approved of him, helped Jane to cast aside any doubts about his sincerity, then they would have the time it took for a woman to fall in love. Just the thought of having Rita Al-Nayhal on his side, thinking him a good man—even telling her husband so—made a warlike smile break on his face.

“You missed me, didn't you?”

Jane's query ripped him away from his thoughts. When he raised his eyebrows to her teasing smile, she added, “It's okay to admit. It won't crush your masculinity.”

Bobby chuckled. “I'm in a ladies' department store. I think my masculinity's already been compromised.”

Beside them, Rita cuddled Daya and sang softly to her as Bobby continued, though he felt the woman's gaze on him from time to time. “Truth is, darlin', after I dropped you off, I realized that we hadn't decided what we're doing tonight.”

“Doing tonight?” Jane repeated, rubbing her chin in mock thoughtfulness. “I don't recall—”

“Oh, c'mon, Jane,” Bobby interrupted with an arrogant smile. “You know as well as I do that we're spend
ing the night together.” He turned to Rita then, gave her a wicked grin. “Pardon me, ma'am.”

For a moment Bobby wondered if his take-what-you-want attitude offended Rita, but it didn't seem to. And after all, she
was
married to Sakir Al-Nayhal.

“No pardons necessary,” Rita said at last, a cautious, though far more friendly smile tugging at her mouth. “This old married woman with a baby is gonna take off for a little bit. Be over here if you need me.” She turned away from them and pushed the stroller over to the linens section.

A wave of triumph moved through Bobby. He'd made some headway here, made a few new and improved impressions that Rita would no doubt share with her husband. He turned back to Jane. She was smiling at him, familiar and open, with that touch of humor that made him want to kiss her and talk to her at the same time. Damn, why did he have to want her this way? Why couldn't she have been anybody but who she was?

“Something you wanna ask me, cowboy?” she teased.

“How about dinner tonight, maybe a moonlit ride?”

“I'm not the greatest horsewoman.”

“You'll be fine,” he insisted.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” he said, moving closer to her, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I'm going to teach you how to ride.”

Jane felt her skin turn hot with his blatant innuendo. Here they were, standing in the middle of a crowded store with sales people pushing half-price sweaters,
laughter and cries emerging from the many baby strollers around them, and all Jane could think about was lying horizontal on something moderately soft, with Bobby's mouth on hers.

“Come with me now,” he murmured, his eyes liquid and hot.

The push to say yes was almost torturous, but Jane forced herself to decline. “I can't,” she explained with a soft smile. “We're not finished here. I've got to work on this party. We have china and linens to buy today. This gathering is really important for my family, but most of all, it's important to my niece. It's her special day.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “I can wait.”

Those words curled inside her, and the wicked smile he shot her only added fuel to an already blazing fire. It was a good thing Rita walked over then, because Jane was tempted to forgo the soft place to fall and kiss him rather obscenely against a rack of maroon table runners.

Little Daya was fussing, scrunching her face up and squirming in Rita's arms. Rita shrugged. “She's a little cranky. I'm thinking maybe we should go.”

Jane glanced at Bobby. It would have been the perfect opportunity for him to get his wish. Baby crying, baby and mommy go home, Jane and Bobby start date right now.

But instead of waiting for the inevitable wail from Daya, Bobby said, “Let me try, Rita.”

Jane gaped at him, so did Rita. It was a pretty well-known fact that men normally ran from a fussing baby unless they were biologically linked to the child.

“Are you sure, Bobby?” Rita asked, looking totally convinced that he was wasting his time.

He nodded and reached for Daya. “Trust me,” he said confidently, wrapping the fussy little girl in his arms and tucking her against his massive chest. “I'll have her cooing in no time. Babies love me.”

For a moment, Jane actually thought Daya was going to smile, but the flicker she saw on either side of the baby's mouth was step one of a full-on freak-out. As Bobby rocked her gently, Daya began to cry. When he tried making “shushing” sounds, Daya's cries turned to wails. And when he stopped moving altogether, a sound so painful and pitiful exploded from the little girl that both Jane and Rita reached for her.

Bobby looked dumbstruck as he handed the baby back to Rita. He kept on repeating the words, “I don't get it,” over and over.

“It's all right, Bobby,” Rita said over Daya's slowly deflating din, her gaze as concerned for him as for her daughter. “She's a little skittish with new people.” Rita turned to Jane and rolled her eyes. “Just like Sakir.”

Jane shifted her gaze to Bobby, who appeared a little detached, though he still had that crestfallen expression in his eyes. “Hey,” she began, tucking her arm through his. “We need a big strong man to help us to the car. You up for it?”