By The Sheikh's Command. Debbi Rawlins
“I didn’t know you were still here.” Mac Coleman passed the reins of the colt with whom he’d been working to one of the hands, and headed toward the risers where Rafe sat and watched with keen interest for the past hour.
The Arabians the Desert Rose turned out were superb in both breeding and temperament. He had found none comparable in the Mideast or Texas. “I have business in Dallas at the week’s end. However, I will stay until the foal I have purchased is born.”
“Hannah, Alex’s wife who is also a vet, tells me that’ll be any day now.” Mac took off his hat, wiped his face with a kerchief and then reached for a bottle of water he had left near the stairs to the bleachers.
He uncapped it, took a big gulp, and then added, “I hope Anastasia gives birth before you leave. That mare is as stubborn as they come.”
“If not, I have no choice but to go to Dallas. However, I will return the next day.”
Mac’s eyebrows rose. “Just for the birth?”
Rafe gave a slight shrug. “I would like to see my sister again before I return to Munir.”
Mac smiled. “I take it you’re not still mad at her.”
“Furious.”
Mac laughed. “Yeah. But Cord’s a good guy.”
Rafe nodded. That was his only comfort. The knowledge that Aliah was happy and would be well cared for would ease the harsh criticism awaiting him.
“Where are you staying?” Mac shaded his eyes and focused on something in the direction of the stables.
“At the Flying Ace.”
“Makes sense.” He glanced toward the stables again. “Mickey is bringing Rising Star. Are you going to stick around?”
“If you do not mind an audience.”
“Of course not. Afterward we’ll go back to the house and have a beer.” Mac headed toward the colt, calling out instructions to the hired hand as he went.
Rafe smiled. Americans certainly loved their beer. Not even while attending Harvard had he acquired a taste for the brew. He had always preferred wine, much to the amusement of his fellow classmates who had begun facetiously calling him “Your Highness.”
In those days he had been hot-tempered and arrogant. No one in Munir would have dared to treat him in such a manner. He was treated with respect and people scurried to do his bidding. Not so at Harvard.
His education at the American university had gone far beyond academics. He had learned tolerance and humility and the art of negotiation. Especially since no one at Harvard was particularly anxious to respond to his demands. He smiled at the memories. Good friends had eventually been made, and there he had become a man.
“Mind if I sit with you?”
The feminine voice startled him. A redheaded woman in tight faded jeans had started up the steps. The Colemans’ daughter, he was fairly certain. But he could not remember her name.
“Please.” He stood.
“Sit,” she said and settled in beside him. “I don’t know if you recall, but we met briefly at Allie’s wedding. “I’m Jessica Coleman. I mean, Grayson.” Pink tinted her cheeks and a beautiful smile lifted her lips. “I got married recently.”
“Must be contagious.”
She grinned. “Then you’d better be careful.”
He smiled back. She was a delightful young lady…though mischievous, like Aliah.
Brianna was different.
Why she had suddenly come to mind, he could not fathom. In fact, the thought startled him.
“He’s a beauty, isn’t he?”
Rafe followed her gaze out to the arena. Mac led Rising Star around in a circle. The colt’s coat shimmered in the Texas sun like fine brown silk. “You have the finest Arabians I have ever seen. Your family has established quite a venerable reputation.”
Jessica nodded, her gaze fastened to the man and horse. “They take a lot of pride in their work. But besides that, they all love horses. So do I, but I’m on the business end of things.” She turned to him with a puzzled frown. “You aren’t staying at the Desert Rose, are you?’
“No, the Flying Ace.”
“Haven’t Cord and Allie left?”
He nodded. “The day before yesterday.”
“But…” She blinked. “You’re staying with Brianna?”
He nodded again, and turned his attention toward Rising Star.
“Does Cord know?”
Rafe smiled and glanced her way. “Of course.”
She flushed. “Of course,” she repeated, and refocused her gaze on the training.
“Is there anything wrong?” he asked, amused at her flustered demeanor.
“Nothing.” She straightened and brought up a hand to shade her eyes. “Speaking of nothing…”
He turned around to see what had caught her attention. Brianna approached from the direction of the house. Even though she was still a distance away, there was no mistaking her blond hair or the long, lean legs bringing her closer to him. His heart took an unexpected leap.
“Gee, I wonder what’s brought her out here in the middle of the afternoon?” Jessica’s voice, iced with meaning, doused him like a cold shower.
He did not care for the insinuation in her tone. “I have no inkling. I asked her to accompany me, but she had work to do.”
“Hmm, apparently her priorities have changed.” Jessica did not even give him a glance, but there was no mistaking the amusement in her voice.
His annoyance soared. He understood the possible appearance of impropriety of him staying alone at the house, with Brianna being a single woman, but Americans were usually more open-minded about such things. Besides, Brianna was just a child.
As she got closer, the light breeze molded her blouse to her breasts and something stirred deep in his belly. Feeling the weight of her stare, he looked at Jessica. Her rapt attention was focused on him, the speculation in her eyes most disquieting.
Slowly she dragged her gaze away. “Hey, Bri.”
“Hello, Jessie.” Brianna stopped at the foot of the risers and squinted up at them. Even with the sun directly in her face, her pale skin was flawless. “I didn’t know you were still in town. I thought you went back to Dallas. Is Nick with you?”
Jessica sighed. “No, he had Coleman-Grayson business in Houston and I have some here. I’ll see him this weekend. Maybe we could get together…” Jessica cast a curious glance at Rafe. “If you have time.”
Brianna, on the other hand, carefully avoided his eyes. “Of course I do. You name the time and I’ll be ready.”
And then she finally looked at him and blushed. He directed his attention to the arena. No sense in pointing out she had adamantly claimed to have no time for him. He still did not understand why she had gotten so angry at the stables. Perhaps that Chuck fellow meant more to her than she had admitted.
The possibility chafed. Even though Rafe knew it had nothing to with him.
His jaw clenched as she climbed the risers to join them, her hair, uncharacteristically out of her ponytail, was caught by the breeze and fanned out like a silken sail. Her worn jeans hugged her hips and thighs, showing off her lean curves.
The hell her relationship with the hired hand had nothing to with Rafe! he thought. He wanted her. He had from the first moment he saw her. He could deny it to others but not to himself. In effect, he had denied