Her Royal Bed (13 page)

Hope swelled within Jane and she nodded. “Right.”

“Now,” Mariah began with a tough smile. “With that said, if Bobby Callahan ever hurts you, Sakir and Zayad will have to climb over me to get to him.”

Jane couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing.

“Let's get that ice cream,” said Mariah, making for the doors. “If this child doesn't get a nutritious meal soon, he or she is going to kick me into oblivion.”

T
he days leading up to little Daya's Welcome to the World party rolled over on each other like a carpet. By Friday, Jane thought her head might explode with all the information, recipes, times and worries she had crammed into her brain. Her body felt slightly drained from so much prepping, cooking and discussions/arguments with the decorator. But it looked as though the party would go off without a hitch and, though tired, Jane felt very pleased with herself.

Her relationship with Sakir, however, was not doing nearly as well. Jane had wondered if she and her brother would have some time to talk, maybe settle a few matters, since she worked under his roof nearly every day. But Sakir stayed in his office most of the time, and when he did emerge, all he offered her was a quick
hello as they passed each other in the house. Even as she was immersed in party planning, she missed their talks, his funny, starchy ways and his brotherly presence.

As she drove away from his home the night before the party, she wondered if they'd ever be friends again, if he'd ever welcome her into his home as his family.

The weathered KC Ranch sign gave her a dusty, encouraging smile as she passed through the gates. If she were to be honest with herself, she'd admit that Sakir's house would only be a place to visit now anyway. How she viewed “home” had changed the moment she'd moved into Bobby's house. Against her better judgment, she'd been referring to the ranch as her home for some time now, and actually felt a thrill when she pulled up and saw the lights flicker in the open windows.

She didn't even bother heading over to the cabin. Three days ago, when Tara and Abel had returned from their night under the stars with looks of total adoration on their happy faces, they'd all made a silent agreement. Tara and Abel would have the cabin and Jane and Bobby would have the house. Sometimes they took meals together, sometimes not. It was smooth and easy and Jane had never seen her mother so happy.

Jane pulled back the screen door and sighed as she entered the house. “Do I smell pizza?”

“You do.”

The sight before her was like something out of a dream. Looking thoroughly pleased with himself, Bobby stood beside the couch, big and sexy and rough in his faded jeans and pale-green T-shirt, a delicious smile on his lips. And in front of him, on the coffee table,
was a hot mushroom and pepperoni pizza, a bottle of wine and a few videos stacked up on top of each other.

“Oh, I love you!” she said in a rush, then glanced up sheepishly.

Bobby raised an eyebrow and grinned.

“You know what I mean,” Jane said, forcing a casual tone to her voice.

“No. What do you mean?”

Acting coy, she strolled over the kitchen table and dropped her things on the rough wood surface. “A starving woman will say anything. She's got a mental block that only nourishment will banish.”

“Only nourishment?”

She grinned as she watched him move toward her, take her hand in his. “I didn't say what I was hungry for.”

“Yes, you did, darlin'. It's in your eyes.” He guided her over to the couch and motioned for her to have a seat. “Haven't eaten a thing all day, have you?”

“I think I had some peanuts around ten,” said Jane, dropping onto the soft cushion.

“Pathetic.”

“They were organic.”

He chuckled, opened the pizza box, took out a slice and slipped it onto a plate. “Here.” He handed her the plate, then filled a glass with wine.

As she ate her slice with gusto, she said, “You better be careful, Callahan.”

“Why's that?”

“I could get used to this.”

With an easy grin, he handed her the glass of wine. “Drink up.”

The slow, delicate currant flavor of the merlot went to work in a hurry. Feeling relaxed and happy, Jane fell back against the couch cushions and eyed her hunky cowboy. “I want to ask you something, and I want you to promise to think about it before you fly off the handle.”

He snorted. “I don't fly off the handle.”

“On this subject you do.”

“You want me to teach one of your brothers to ride?” he asked, his eyes filled with grim amusement.

“Something easier than that.” She grinned, her eyebrows rising hopefully. “Come to the party tomorrow night.”

“No,” said Bobby succinctly. He smiled brightly. “See, no flying off the handle.”

“There was also none of the suggested thinking, either.”

“C'mon, Jane,” said Bobby, tossing a second slice of pizza onto his plate. “Why would you want another batch of stress added to your night?”

“I don't. I want you.” The limb she was going out on felt shaky, but she pressed on. “I want you there, supporting me.”

He sighed.

“All-you-can-eat desserts,” she tempted, grinning.

“Even if I did agree, I wouldn't be welcome there.”

“You're my guest,” said Jane, sliding her plate back on the coffee table and inching closer to him. “All that needs to be said, okay?”

His gaze bored into her, a struggle going on behind his eyes. One she couldn't name. But when she smiled at him, he returned it and shook his head. “All right. One condition.”

She gave him a quick kiss, then eased back. “Anything.”

He took the glass of wine from her and placed it on the table, then took her in his arms. “The dessert sampling starts tonight.”

He had her shirt unbuttoned, bra around her waist and his tongue circling her nipple before she could say another word.

 

The pearly-gray light outside his bedroom window signaled the dawn of a day he'd both anticipated and dreaded for some time. Until now, Bobby hadn't decided when the day of reckoning—the day he destroyed the woman beside him—would come, but Jane's invitation, her plea for his support last night, had offered him the opportunity on a cold, calculating platter.

Bobby shifted under the sheets, Jane following his movement without waking, her arms tightening around him, making him feel claustrophobic and beloved all at the same time.

He was a monster.

A cold-blooded, unfeeling asshole, and yet he knew he would close all passageways to his heart and follow through with his plan.

He owed it to his father. The final payback. Then maybe he'd be free, be able to breathe again—let go of all the anger that fisted around him.

“It's barely morning,” said Jane in a husky whisper against his chest.

“I know.” He cuddled her deep into his chest and kissed the top of her dark head. It would be the last time
he would feel her beside him. Her warmth, her scent. “Go back to sleep, darlin'.”

She was quiet for a moment and he thought she'd fallen asleep, but once again she stirred. “Bobby?”

“Yes?”

“I really do love you, you know.”

Bobby died inside.

His gut twisted in pain, a sick, shallow feeling moved through every vein, every bone, every muscle. He wanted to pull away from her, or push her off him before she branded him with her words of love.

But he lay there, listening to her breathing turn slow and shallow as she crept back into sleep.

The mattress felt soft, too soft, ready to swallow him whole, and all he could think about was taking her with him, escaping his burden together.

He stared at the ceiling, at the morning light as it turned from gray to the color of sun-bleached hay. Not only was this the last time he would hold Jane, but also it was the last time she'd ever speak to him with love in her voice. The thought cut him deep.

He never would have believed it.

From one wild night at the Turnbolts' to this, this…something real. He'd just never counted on how much it would hurt to lose her.

“B
eautiful.” “Elegant”. “Delicious.” “Outstanding.”

These were the comments that Jane heard as she walked the ancient Armenian carpets scattered over the hardwood floors of the Al-Nayhals' massive living room. Three crystal chandeliers blazed a lovely light throughout the room, making the bronze statues, Italian and Spanish artwork and the beautiful photograph of Daya and Rita catch the eye.

A young man held out a glass of Cristal to her and smiled. She took it and thanked him. Her staff was exceeding her expectations. With wall-to-wall guests, the servers seemed to be moving at the speed of sound to take care of everyone's drink requests. They were even caring for the children, though the little ones had their own party going on in the corner of the room. Anticipating the
needs of the guests' children, Jane had set up a kiddie table, with every yummy treat imaginable, all surrounded by toys, puzzles, crayons and miniature sofas.

Jane glanced over at the extra-long table overflowing with flowers, food and candles set up in the adjoining room and smiled. The room was still packed with people who were going for seconds. The party was a success.

She was a success.

She knew now that her dream of opening a restaurant had been with her all along, had been a part of her, but alas, it had just taken her a while to rediscover that passion. It was hard to see clearly through a fog of sudden insecurity, which was what she had suffered from the moment Zayad had revealed who she was. But now her confidence had returned in a marvelous rush. Now she recognized her future once again. Only one question remained—where would she unlock that dream? Where would she open her restaurant?

With a quick glance in the direction of the entryway, Jane bit her lip. Bobby was supposed to have been here over an hour ago. She'd called the ranch, but there had been no answer. He was not the kind of guy to go back on his word, and she didn't believe he'd come to any harm on his way over here.

Looking gorgeous in a pale-blue silk dress, Rita strolled over to her, baby in her arms and someone Jane could only assume was Rita's sister by her side. “Jane, I'd like you to meet my sister, Ava.”

“It's nice to meet you,” said Jane, shaking the striking blond woman's hand.

“You, too,” Ava said warmly. “I've heard so much about you.”

Giving her sister an affectionate smile, Rita told Jane, “Ava brought her husband, Jared, his mother, Muna, and my niece, Lily, but they're out in the gardens right now. You'll meet them later. For now,” she said dramatically, “I want Daya to give her auntie a kiss. She's a genius chef.”

Daya was fast asleep, and Jane leaned down and brushed a thumb over her soft cheek. “How about I give you one, precious?”

“Seriously, Jane,” said Rita warmly, her blue eyes flashing with pleasure. “This is fantastic.” And Ava nodded in agreement.

Flushing proudly, Jane said, “I'm glad.”

“Sakir thinks so, too.” She gave Jane a sheepish smile. “I have a feeling he's making his way over here to tell you so himself.”

And when Jane looked past Rita she saw just that. Sakir, shouldered by Zayad, was talking with an older couple a few feet away, though Sakir's gaze kept flickering toward Jane.

“So,” Rita said, lowering her voice. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Sure.” That was almost the same thing as being proud of herself, wasn't it?

Rita glanced at Ava, then back again to Jane. “Well, that's not very convincing.”

Jane chuckled. “No, I guess not.”

It was true that with every wonderful thing that happened tonight, she missed having Bobby to share it
with. Jane tried to think back to this morning and Bobby's mood. She'd been distracted with plans, and had left for Sakir's around nine. But before then, at the breakfast table, Bobby hadn't said much to her. In fact, he'd had a tense expression on his face when she'd kissed him goodbye.

A cold shiver moved up her spine, and she reached in her purse for her cell phone. But Rita's words and the smile that accompanied it stopped her.

“Someone is here to see you, Jane.”

Jane glanced toward the doorway. Relief spread over her, along with a wave of possessiveness. He'd come. For her, he'd braved the censure of her brother and come.

Dressed simply for a semi-formal affair in black jeans and a white shirt, he still looked overbearing and sexy, though more than a little tense. But that was to be expected as a guest of Sakir Al-Nayhal.

She quickly smoothed down the skirt of her pale-gold silk dress and gave him her most charming smile. She could feel Sakir's and Zayad's eyes on her, but she didn't care. All she could think about was telling Bobby of her success here tonight, of how rooted and self-confident she felt again—how she finally understood where her career was going.

His mouth set in a tense line, Bobby strode right up to her, didn't acknowledge Rita, Ava or Mariah, who had just joined them.

“You look handsome tonight, Mr. Callahan,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Thank you for coming.”

But he didn't give her his hand, and there was some
thing strange in his gaze, something blank—almost dead. “I have something to say to you.”

His cold tone hit her hard, made her shiver. “Okay.”

Around her, the small gang of women seemed to stop breathing, and Jane's heart began to thump loudly in her chest as the taste of fear blocked out her earlier taste of success.

“These past few weeks have been a mistake,” said Bobby roughly. “I wanted you and I took you, but that's all there was.”

Someone put a supportive arm around her waist, but in her shock, Jane couldn't tell who it was.

“I've come here to tell you that I don't want you anymore, Jane.”

Their gazes clashed and held, and the shock evaporated from Jane's mind. Through gritted teeth, she uttered, “Is that so?”

He nodded. “I could never love you.”

“You're probably right,” Jane countered, realizing with a flash just what was happening here, what Bobby Callahan was doing.

“I think you should leave, Mr. Callahan,” said Rita in a disgusted voice.

He nodded, but not at Rita, at Jane. And for one brief second she swore she detected a flash of misery in his lifeless gaze, but it was gone in an instant.

And so was Bobby Callahan.

Anger unlike anything she had ever known flooded Jane's senses as she watched him walk away. Around her, Rita, Ava and Mariah were trying to comfort her, offering answers and angry excuses for Bobby's insan
ity and flagrant disregard for her feelings. But Jane wasn't listening. She shoved her gaze to where Sakir and Zayad stood just feet away. They weren't talking to the older couple anymore. Zayad looked murderous and ready to spring. Sakir was staring at Jane, a brother's grief in his eyes.

She pushed away from her family and headed after Bobby. If he really didn't want her, fine. But that's not what was going on here, and she was going to make him face that truth before he walked away from what they had so easily.

“Jane,” she heard Sakir call after her as she rushed to the front door and yanked it open.

“I don't have time right now, Sakir.”

“I am sorry.”

She whirled around, her anger at Bobby—at this whole stupid, wasteful situation—coming to a head. “For what exactly? Not being able to rub Bobby's rejection in my face, or for pushing me out of your life when I was just getting used to having a brother?”

She watched the effect of her words as they burned into his face, made his lips thin and his jaw tighten. “I could not see you get hurt.”

“Well, you see it now, don't you?” she countered, feeling the cool night air wash over her heated skin and temper. “What's the difference?”

When he didn't answer, she turned around and fled down the front steps toward her rental car.

“Jane. Wait.”

With a sigh, she managed one last glance over her shoulder. “What?”

His green eyes heavy with concern, Sakir asked, “Where are you going?”

“To help one stupid man get over the past once and for all. Maybe while I'm gone the other man will have the balls to get over it, too.”

She left Sakir with his mouth hanging open.

A first.

 

There wasn't enough alcohol in the whole state of Texas to block out the words he'd just uttered to Jane. Or the look on her face when he'd said them. So Bobby remained sober, his gut, soul and what remained of his heart aching.

In the shelter of the barn, he sat on a pile of fragrant hay, in the back of an empty stall and wondered when the relief of a vow completed would overtake him.

Would it be tomorrow? Next week? Next year?

Ever?

Or would this new pain, this loss of a woman who had come to mean everything to him take the place of his grief over losing his father and sister?

“So, did it work?”

Only mildly startled, he glanced up, saw an angel dressed in pale gold, her dark hair swirling around her shoulders, her eyes filled with a passion he understood only too well. “Did what work?”

“Your plan.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Get off it, Bobby. The plan to win back your self-respect and gain a little revenge in the process?”

“Why are you here?”

She ignored his question, moved farther into the stall. “Please tell me that you're happy now.”

He cursed, forgot his stoic, unaffected mood and just let loose. “The plan was never to be happy, darlin'. I'll never be happy. But yes, I've finally avenged my family's honor by destroying your brother's family.”

Jane cocked her head to the side. “My family's not destroyed.” She shook her head. “Yes, you hurt me. Deeply and intolerably. But my family's fine.”

“Even you and Sakir?” he asked darkly.

She flinched, but steadied herself and lifted her chin. “Maybe not today or tomorrow, but we'll get over it, and I'll forgive him for being a jerk.”

She'd forgive him, but no doubt she'd never forgive Bobby. So, Al-Nayhal would win once again. Land, livelihood and the girl of Bobby's dreams. “So, through all the lies comes a happy ending for the Al-Nayhals,” he spat out, wishing now he had gotten disgustingly drunk. “Figures.”

“Don't speak to me about lies, Callahan,” she countered angrily. “What did you say the other day? ‘If someone's going to deceive someone else they should expect to get their ears boxed? Get what they deserve for hurting someone else?'”

“Damn right.” He scrambled to his feet and stalked over to her, his heart slamming against his ribs. “Hit me.”

“Don't tempt me.”

He stood close to her, the heat of their bodies intense. He wanted to pull her into his arms, make love to her mouth, make them both forget what had happened tonight, but he knew that was impossible.

She stared at him with those large green eyes. “I want you to face the truth, your past and all those demons that drive you, and move on.”

“I did that tonight.”

“No, you acted like a child tonight. It takes a man to stand up for what he really wants and to say to hell with anyone who asks you to deny it.”

Bobby froze where he stood. No one had ever said anything like that to him—called him a child. The words made his blood boil, made his mind go numb. He was no child. He was a man who had to make good on a promise, and that was that.

“Is there anything more you want to say, Jane?” he asked, icicles clinging to his tone.

He saw her chin tremble, her eyes fill with tears, but she shook her head, looked up until the tears were gone. When she found his gaze again, she said softly, simply, “I love you, Bobby. I may be a fool for saying it, for coming here, trying again…”

The words, and the tender, devoted tone in her voice, pierced his hard, cold shell—but what followed had every muscle in his body stiff with ire.

“I want you as my family.”

As memories of his father, his sister and the battles he'd had with Sakir Al-Nayhal over the years slammed into his mind, Bobby felt his face contort into a mask of rage.

A member of the Al-Nayhal family!

Teeth gritted, he practically hissed, “I'd rather die first.”

He watched as the blood drained from Jane's face,
the breath squeezed from her body. Hands shaking, eyes filling with tears once again, she said clearly, “If I leave here, I'm not coming back.”

The full impact of her words was lost on Bobby. All he felt was hatred for her brother in that moment, not the love that surely dwelled in his heart. “Goodbye, Jane.”

Tears slipping down her face, Jane nodded. “I'll get my things and be out of here in no time.”

She turned around and walked away.

And he was alone.

Again.

 

The airplane engines rumbled, readying themselves for takeoff. With a book lying open and unread on her lap, Jane stared out the window, and wished she were already in Emand. The long flight would be difficult with nothing to do but think about what had happened last night, what had been said at the party and in Bobby's barn. There was also no one to talk to on the flight, to keep her mind occupied with trivial matters. Due to a few business engagements, Mariah and Zayad hadn't been ready to leave, but had offered Jane the private plane, understanding her haste to get away. Jane's mother had suggested that she go with her, but Jane could plainly see that Tara was in love with Abel, and wanted to remain with him. Jane had told her mother that she would call her when she got to Emand, and they could decide what to do from there. Sakir, on the other hand, had tried to reason with Jane, urging her to stay at his home until she figured out what she wanted.

But Jane was determined.

Right now, she needed as much distance as possible between herself and Bobby Callahan. Odds were she wouldn't get over him in a lifetime, but the thousands of miles, oceans and deserts might help a little.