Promised To A Sheikh. Carla Cassidy
you would have to become accustomed to as my wife—the presence of guards in your life.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I’m sure life in Gaspar would be far different from life here in Texas.” She pulled her hand from his in order to open a gate that led to a pasture.
As they walked through the lush green grass dotted with wildflowers, she shared with him some of the history of the ranch.
He listened with interest as she explained to him about Big Bill Carson and J. P. Wainwright, who had met on a cattle-buying trip in 1898 and become good friends. In 1923 the two families had founded the Lone Star Country Club.
When the large herd of cattle came into view, Omar was surprised at how knowledgeable she was about the breeding, buying and selling process.
While he found the conversation interesting, far more fascinating to him were the expressions on her lovely face as she spoke. She had a face made for storytelling, expressive and animated. It was easy for him to imagine her entertaining their children with stories of her days in the faraway land of Texas.
“I’ll bet you were a wonderful teacher,” he said, as they paused to rest for a few minutes in the shade of a small grove of trees.
“Why do you say that?” She leaned with her back against a tree trunk.
Omar stood directly in front of her and braced himself with a hand on the trunk next to her head. “Your face lights up when you speak of things you care about. You must have generated a lot of enthusiasm among your students.”
“I liked teaching.” Shadows momentarily doused the light in her eyes.
He fought the impulse to reach out and stroke the shiny length of her hair. Instead he eyed her curiously. “You never told me why you decided to take some time off from your teaching position.”
A frown creased her delicate forehead, and she gazed off into the distance. When she finally looked at him once again, the shadows in her eyes were deeper, darker.
“It was three days before the end of the school year,” she finally said. “The bell had just rung for the end of the last class of the day, and the students were all leaving the building. I was gathering up my things, also getting ready to head home, when Donny Albright burst into my room.”
She paused, and once again looked off into the distance. “And who is Donny Albright?” Omar asked.
She sighed, a deep, tremulous sigh that made Omar want to sweep her up into his arms and hold her against his chest. At the moment she looked achingly vulnerable.
“He was a senior, a troubled young man. But until that day none of us realized just how troubled he was.” She reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, when he came into the room, he was distraught, crying and yelling so that I couldn’t understand what was wrong. I finally managed to get out of him that he’d failed his math class and wasn’t going to graduate.”
She pushed herself away from the tree trunk and gestured to Omar that she wanted to walk once again. He grabbed one of her hands, surprised to find it bone cold and trembling slightly. “What happened?”
“Donny wanted me to speak to Mr. McNair, his math teacher. He wanted me to get McNair to change his final grade. When I told Donny I couldn’t do that, he pulled out a gun. He held me at gunpoint for three hours before I finally talked him into giving up to the police, who by then had surrounded the building.”
Horror shot through Omar, and he halted in his tracks, drew her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. He couldn’t imagine the terror she must have gone through.
She leaned into his embrace, as if gathering strength from his arms. The clean scent of her hair filled his senses, and he tried not to focus on the evocative sensation of her warm breasts pressed against his chest.
“You must have been terrified,” he murmured as he ran a hand up and down her slender back.
She sighed once again, then stepped back from him, and they continued to walk. “It’s funny, I wasn’t frightened while it was all happening. I never believed Donny would actually shoot me. What I worried about more was Donny getting hurt by the police.”
The fact that she had been concerned for the boy impressed Omar. “If that had happened to you in Gaspar, I would have thrown the boy into a dungeon.”
“Do you have dungeons in Gaspar?” she asked.
“No, but I would build one specifically for people who threatened the safety of what belongs to me, for people who would attempt to harm you.”
Her eyes brightened, and she smiled at him. “While I don’t necessarily approve of the method, I appreciate the sentiment.” Her smile fell away. “Besides, Donny didn’t need a dungeon. He needed help. We learned later that both his parents were severe alcoholics and that Donny had spent the previous two years raising his three younger sisters. He was frantic about his diploma because he was certain without it he wouldn’t be able to get a good job, and he was trying to save up enough money to take his sisters and leave his parents.”
“A sad affair,” he replied. “However, I can understand why you were reluctant to return to the school.”
“Actually, I returned the next day and finished out the school year and thought I was fine.” Again the shadows appeared in her eyes.
“But you weren’t fine.”
She shook her head, dark strands flying on either side of her heart-shaped face. “I think for a couple of days I was kind of in shock, then I started having nightmares about the whole thing. The nightmares don’t come as often anymore, just occasionally. But I made the decision that I didn’t want to go back this year.”
“I don’t blame you. I’m sure the idea of entering that building again must be difficult.”
“That isn’t why I decided not to go back.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Then, why?”
She waited until they had left the pasture and she’d carefully locked the gate behind them before she replied.
“I think that whole incident with Donny made me realize just how short life is, that it can be taken away from you in the snap of a finger. I just decided I wanted to take some time off and enjoy life to the fullest.”
“Ah, so what you seek is a confirmation of life,” he observed.
“Yes, something like that,” she agreed.
He grinned at her teasingly. “They say the best way of doing that is to make love.”
Her cheeks warmed with sweet color. “I wouldn’t know about that.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You have never made love?” he asked incredulously.
She raised her chin. “Well, it certainly hasn’t been from lack of opportunity,” she exclaimed defensively.
“I wouldn’t have dreamed anything to the contrary,” he replied with amusement. “I just assumed in this day and age that you had enjoyed an intimate relationship before.”
They had almost reached the cottage, where his car was parked out front. “I guess I’m more old-fashioned than I pretend. Besides, I simply haven’t met the right man,” she said.
Omar pulled her into his arms once again, enjoying the way her eyes flared in surprise. “You have met him now, Elizabeth. I will be the man who will introduce you to the pleasures of making love.”
“Omar…”
Whatever she was about to say was drowned out by Rashad yelling his name and holding up the phone. Omar frowned, torn between his desire to spend more time with Elizabeth and the duty that called him yet again.
“I must take that,” he said. “Rashad would not have called me if it wasn’t an important call.”
She