By The Sheikh's Command. Debbi Rawlins
and then abandoned her daughter to the charity of her family.
At first Bri had silently rebelled, but then she discovered that school not only got her out of the house and away from Aunt Elaine’s harping, but it was fun and empowering. She’d done extremely well, making the honor roll all through high school, and then the dean’s list her second and third year of college. She’d probably have made it her senior year, too, had she finished. But the lure of meeting her brother had eclipsed her need for a degree.
Her stomach growled, reminding her she really did have to think about rustling something up for dinner. Maybe sandwiches. If His Royal Highness didn’t like that option, he could go to the diner in Bridle. Give the townspeople something to gawk at.
Bri smiled at the thought as she strolled into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Nothing leaped out at her. They’d finished the leftovers last night and she hadn’t taken anything out of the freezer. Even the deli meat looked unappealing.
Pizza didn’t sound so bad right about now. Although, since Allie had discovered the spicy pies for the first time last week, they’d had pepperoni, peppers and extra cheese four times for dinner.
She considered taking a drive into Bridle to pick one up, when she saw a folded piece of paper stuck to the side of the refrigerator under a cow magnet. Curious, she unfolded it. Cord usually left notes for her on her desk.
The message was from Allie. She had ordered their dinner to be delivered from the diner at seven. Rafe had been right. Bri frowned. The diner didn’t deliver. Of course, Allie had a way of getting what she wanted. Bri needed to take lessons.
Her gaze fell on the tiny postscript at the bottom from Cord. They had decided to stop in Dallas on the way back and would be home a day later than the planned ten days.
No big deal. What was one day?
She set the note aside, a wave of melancholy overtaking her. This was yet another change in the way she and Cord had settled into life on the ranch together. In the past, he had always kept her informed of his plans, even if it was only a trip to the bank. Now he had Allie.
Bri hated the jealousy that gnawed at her, but it was there, and she would have to make peace with it. Ignoring it would only fuel needless resentment. Cord’s marriage posed no threat to her relationship with him. As he’d assured her so many times, they’d always be family.
As far as Allie having taken charge of dinner tonight, that had been a nice gesture. Really. Bri didn’t have to worry about playing hostess to Rafe right off the bat. Allie had been thoughtful in eliminating that problem.
Bri got a six-pack of cola out of the pantry and put it on the fridge. So why did she feel so glum? Now she had more time to work on the auction paperwork.
She started for her office but her gaze fell on the newspaper left on the kitchen table. Ironically, it was open to the classifieds—the rental section.
Was someone trying to tell her something?
Chapter Two
Rafe stopped at the wet bar in the living room and found the bottle of scotch his new brother-in-law had left him. He poured himself a glass. Neat. No ice. Just the way he liked it. The scotch was a rare pleasure he allowed himself only when he traveled abroad. In his own country he never drank liquor. He never did anything that could be deemed inappropriate. He had too much to lose.
That’s what made the purpose of this trip to Texas so ironic. The fact that he would return to Munir without his errant sister as a result of his own negligence was more inappropriate than a dozen drinks.
He downed half the glass of scotch, and then took the rest with him to the den where he could look out at the courtyard fountain. The house was quiet, although he knew Brianna was somewhere inside. From the stables he had watched her cross the lawn and enter the house less than an hour ago.
She was an amazingly graceful creature. Tall and lithe and elegant even in faded jeans. A natural beauty who was inordinately reserved. In his experience, most women who possessed such perfection flaunted their attributes, expected special treatment. Although he had not had too many exchanges with her, Brianna seemed as quiet as a little mouse.
She could have been born to royalty by the way she carried herself, but he knew better. Cord had explained a little about his sister, about her shyness, how she kept to herself, going swimming or riding when not at work on the Flying Ace’s books. He was concerned about her swimming alone at a nearby lake, and Rafe had assured him he would be watchful of her.
And also discreet. Cord had immediately regretted that Brianna knew he had asked Rafe to watch over her. He smiled at the memory of her annoyed reaction when she had overheard them talking, how she had been quick to remind Cord that she was almost twenty-three and needed no supervision.
Rafe had decided to downplay his presence, allow her to think he had no interest in her whereabouts or activities. Apparently, she stayed close to the ranch, sometimes visiting friends at the Desert Rose or swimming in the lake.
Four of the five men living in the bunkhouse had been with the Brannigan family for years and did not concern Cord. The fifth one, however, a young man hired recently, showed too much interest in Brianna. Cord had not yet found it necessary to warn the man, but Rafe’s instructions were to “break the guy’s neck if he sniffed around Bri.”
Staring out at the waning sun, Rafe smiled at Cord’s choice of words and his intense protectiveness. An unusual quality among the American men Rafe had met at Harvard or since. Women were more independent in this country—an admirable trait to be sure, but sometimes difficult for a brother to accept.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.”
At the sound of Brianna’s voice, he turned to find her backing out of the room. “Is it a crime in Texas for us to be in the same room?”
Confusion flickered in her eyes at his teasing. And then she made a face. “I simply meant I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Ah, I see.” He gestured to a chair. “Please, sit with me.”
She glanced toward the door as if seeking escape. “I’m sort of busy right now.”
“Of course.” He drained his scotch, and contemplated another.
Brianna stared at him. When he met her gaze, she quickly looked away, her cheeks flooding with color. “You were right about dinner. Allie ordered something. I’ll let you know when it gets here.”
Rafe did not know the Brannigan family history, only that Brianna had not been raised in Bridle, but had led a sheltered life in a small town in New England. Perhaps that was the reason for her shyness. Perhaps that was what intrigued him about her. “May I fix you a drink?” he asked before she could leave.
She frowned slightly.
“You are old enough?”
She gave him a scathing look. “I’m almost twenty-three.”
“That old?”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “Very funny,” she said, and to his satisfaction, she lowered herself to a chair. “I’ll remind you that Allie and I are close in age and she’s now a married woman.”
His mood darkened. That was a reminder he did not need. He liked and respected Cord, but Aliah’s marriage to him had caused a great deal of trouble. “Yes, but until she was married, Aliah was under my patronage.”
Brianna laughed. “Patronage?”
He nodded.
“That sounds archaic.”
“Perhaps, but it is Munir’s custom for a brother to be responsible for his sister.”
She lifted her chin. “Good thing I don’t live there.”
Rafe made no comment, as tempted as he was to point out that she