Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Copyright

“Close your eyes.”

There was a rustle of movement as she walked around Hassan. “Okay, you can open them now.”

Hassan opened his eyes and then immediately closed them again, unable to believe what he was seeing. He felt as if he’d been catapulted into a fantasy.

Cautiously he opened his eyes again. Nothing had changed. Kali was still wearing a provocative costume consisting of long filmy blue scarves and glittering silver sequins.

“Isn’t this outfit spectacular? I bought it from the woman who gave the belly dancing demonstration. Belly dancing raises the heart rate very satisfactorily,” she murmured, leaning toward him.

“Heart rate?” he repeated distractedly as she began to move her hips in an undulating movement.

“Oh, yes. Belly dancing is marvelous for your heart.” The husky whisper rasped over his nerve endings. Hassan felt as if he were about to plunge into an abyss of sexual desire that would wholly consume him.

Dear Reader,

The joys of summer are upon us—along with some July fireworks from Silhouette Desire!

The always wonderful Jennifer Greene presents our July MAN OF THE MONTH in Prince Charming’s Child. A contemporary romance version of Sleeping Beauty, this title also launches the author’s new miniseries, HAPPILY EVER AFTER, inspired by those magical fairy tales we loved in childhood. And ever-talented Anne Marie Winston is back with a highly emotional reunion romance in Lovers’ Reunion. The popular miniseries TEXAS BRIDES by Peggy Moreland continues with the provocative story of That McCloud Woman. Sheiks abound in Judith McWilliams’s The Sheik’s Secret, while a plain Jane is wooed by a millionaire in Jan Hudson’s Plain Jane’s Texan. And Barbara McCauley’s new dramatic miniseries, SECRETS!, debuts this month with Blackhawk’s Sweet Revenge.

We’ve got more excitement for you next month—watch for the premiere of the compelling new Desire miniseries THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB. Some of the sexiest, most powerful men in the Lone Star State are members of this prestigious club, and they all find love when they least expect it! You’ll learn more about THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB in our August Dear Reader letter, along with an update on Silhouette’s new continuity, THE FORTUNES OF TEXAS, debuting next month.

And this month, join in the celebrations by treating yourself to all six passionate Silhouette Desire titles.

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

The Sheik’s Secret
Judith McWilliams

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JUDITH McWILLIAMS

began to enjoy romances while in search of the proverbial “happily-ever-after.” But she always found herself rewriting the endings, and eventually the beginnings, of the books she read. Then her husband finally suggested that she write novels of her own, and she’s been doing so ever since. An ex-teacher with four children, Judith has traveled the country extensively with her husband and has been greatly influenced by those experiences. But while not tending the garden or caring for family, Judith does what she enjoys most—writing. She has also written under the name Charlotte Hines.

One

Hassan Rashid reluctantly crossed the small lobby of Kali Whitman’s apartment building, double-checked the apartment which Karim had given him, then slowly pushed the call button beside the elevator.

Maybe his brother would be right for once in his life, Hassan thought, encouraging himself. Maybe this Kali Whitman really wouldn’t care when he told her that Karim was breaking their engagement.

“Yes?”

The musical lilt of the softly feminine voice that emerged from the call box poured through Hassan, raising both his body temperature and his doubts about the whole situation. That voice certainly didn’t sound as if it belonged to a cold woman who had agreed to trade romance for a marriage of convenience.

But then, who better than he knew that appearances were quite often deceptive. Physically he was the mirror image of Karim and yet, mentally, they were poles apart. Karim was an extrovert, the life and soul of every social gathering, while he was far more reserved. Social chitchat did not come easily to him.

“Is anyone there?” Kali’s voice sharpened slightly, and Hassan hurriedly cut off his thoughts. He didn’t want her annoyed to start with. She was going to be upset enough once he broke the news of Karim’s perfidy to her.

“Sorry,” he began.

“Karim! Thank heavens you’re back. Come on up. I need to talk to you.”

Damn! Hassan thought. Karim was wrong. Again.

Kali’s welcome hadn’t been that of a woman who didn’t care one way or the other about her engagement. She was clearly ecstatic to hear her fiancé’s voice. As if she’d been counting the days until Karim returned to New York.

But why? Hassan wondered uncertainly. According to Karim, their engagement was an arranged affair based on their mutual respect for each other’s work with emotionally troubled children rather than any personal feelings they had for each other. He’d said that they had met during the course of their work and had never actually dated.

Karim had told him that he’d felt it was time he married and had children, and he’d decided that he’d have a better chance of making a success of marriage if he chose a woman who shared his interests and goals. That, when he’d made a list of the women he knew, he’d realized that Kali Whitman fit all his requirements for a wife. So he’d written her a letter explaining his position and asking her to marry him. Karim had said that she had considered his proposal for almost a week before finally accepting it the day before he’d had to fly to Australia for a conference.

Hassan frowned. Of course Karim’s assumption that her acceptance meant that she agreed with his practical approach to marriage didn’t mean it was true. Kali Whitman could have agreed to marry his brother because she was in love with him.

He had no way of knowing what her original motivation had been, and he hated walking into a situation blind.

Hassan forced himself to enter the elevator when his every instinct was urging him to run from what threatened to be a very unpleasant interview. But he couldn’t. He was the responsible twin, he reminded himself. The twin who had always tried to make amends for Karim’s thoughtless behavior. But this was the last time! From now on, Karim could clean up his own messes.

The elevator slid to a smooth stop on the sixth floor.

Hassan stepped out and headed toward 6C, still undecided as to how to tell her what Karim had done.

Stopping in front of Kali’s apartment, he stared blindly at the oak door. Maybe the best way to break the news would be a blunt, unemotional statement of the facts. But the problem was it wouldn’t stay unemotional for long. She’d probably burst into tears and then what was he supposed to do?

He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of trying to deal with a hysterical woman.

He lifted his hand to knock, but before he could, the door swung open.

Hassan blinked, his hand suspended in midair as he stared at the unexpected vision in front of him. Small and slender, Kali barely reached his chin. He swallowed uneasily as he noticed the thrust of her full breasts against the rust-colored sweater she was wearing. Hastily wrenching his gaze upward, he turned his attention to the cloud of reddish-brown hair that framed the creamy perfection of her ivory skin and the delicacy of her perfectly formed features.

The strangest sense of disorientation filled him when his eyes met hers. They were the most gorgeous color, like the chestnuts that grew on his mother’s estate in England.

Chestnuts were good luck, his nanny had told him. As a boy he’d gathered them by the pocketfuls and hidden them in his room against future need. Which is what he would like to do with this woman. Secrete her away somewhere for his own personal enjoyment.

“Karim?”

Dimly, as if from a distance, Hassan heard the melodic sound of her voice, and his eyes dropped to her lips. A sudden tightness encircled his chest as he studied their delectable curve. They looked so soft. Soft and mobile and made to be kissed.

Karim was out of his tiny little mind, Hassan thought as he remembered his brother’s description of her. Calling her “kind of attractive” was like calling their father “kind of rich”—the understatement of the year. Kali Whitman was the most sensually alluring woman he had ever seen.

He froze as she unexpectedly leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. His guts clenched painfully at the feel of her lips against his skin, and it was all he could do not to grab her and capture her mouth with his own. He wanted—

His head examined, he thought uneasily. Kali Whitman had been taken advantage of enough by his brother without him compounding the sin by kissing her.

Kali stared up into his face, instinctively shaking her head in an attempt to banish the surge of desire that had so unexpectedly engulfed her when she’d kissed him. What was the matter with her? she wondered uncertainly. She’d kissed Karim when she’d accepted his proposal. Or rather he’d kissed her. A rather restrained touching of their lips that she found vaguely pleasant. So why was it different this time?

And it was different. For a timeless moment she’d completely lost track of what she’d wanted to say to him. All she’d been able to think about was how she’d felt. Excited and full of anticipation. As if he really were a beloved fiancé who’d just returned from an interminable absence.

Troubled, Kali studied his face, looking for a clue to explain her strange reaction. She couldn’t find one. Except for appearing slightly paler, as if he’d spent the entire two weeks of his conference in Australia inside, he looked exactly the same as she remembered. Her inexplicable sense of disorientation grew as she suddenly noticed the silvery sparks that seemed to swirl through his night-dark eyes. Funny, she’d never noticed them before. She blinked, and they were gone, making her wonder if she really had seen them.

“Um, I…” Hassan said, and Kali winced at the uncertain note in his voice. Poor Karim, he’d asked her to marry him because she was a levelheaded, intelligent woman not given to romantic excesses, and here she was staring at him like a teenager unexpectedly faced with her favorite rock star.

Feeling gauche, Kali rushed to say, “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. I was afraid you wouldn’t get back in time.”

“In time?” Hassan repeated, looking for an opening to break his news.

Kali stepped back. The added distance helped her to think a little more clearly. From here she couldn’t smell the delicious scent that clung to him. It reminded her of woodlands and sunshine and crisp autumn air. And it wasn’t the one he’d been wearing the night he’d taken her out to celebrate their engagement. Perhaps it was something he’d picked up in Australia? If so, she hoped he’d brought plenty of it back with him because it was—

A distraction, she hurriedly cut off the thought. She needed to concentrate on her problem, not on how she was finding Karim so inexplicably attractive.

“Karim—”

“Hassan,” he corrected her.

Kali blinked in confusion, wondering why he’d suddenly decided he wanted to be called by a nickname. Worry about it later, she told herself. For now she needed to focus on a more urgent problem.

“My mother called last night to warn me that my nephew’s christening is tomorrow,” she said.

“Warn?” Hassan picked up on the odd word. He’d been to a couple of christenings, and he couldn’t remember anything about the ceremony that would necessitate a warning.

Kali grimaced. “You remember when I accepted your proposal I said that a marriage based on friendship and shared interests was what I wanted, too?”

Hassan frowned, taken aback. She still thought he was his brother, but why? He’d told her his name was Hassan. Unless Karim hadn’t bothered to tell her that he had a twin brother? Or even a brother named Hassan.

He opened his mouth to explain who he really was, but before he could get the words out she continued.

“You see, I didn’t mention it at the time, but the reason I feel that way is because I had an experience with the falling-madly-in-love bit. And it was a disaster.”

Hassan was appalled at the echo of remembered pain and humiliation he could see shimmering in the depths of her gorgeous eyes. He wanted to thump the lout who was responsible for that look.

“I take it he turned out to be a jerk?”

Kali sighed. “No, it would have been a whole lot easier to deal with if he had been. To make a long, sad story short, a month before the wedding Bart met my younger sister, Annette, for the first time. It was a classic case of love at first sight for them both. Bart married her instead of me.”

Driven by a need to console her, Hassan reached out and pulled Kali’s slender body against his, holding her comfortingly close.

“That must have been rough,” he finally said.

Kali closed her eyes as she savored the feel of his hard body pressing into her much-softer curves. He felt so good. So solidly reassuring, and he was showing far more empathy than her short acquaintance with him would have led her to believe he possessed. A fact that pleased her since it argued well for the success of their marriage.

Stepping out of his arms, she said, “I was pretty upset about Bart’s defection at the time, but that was almost two years ago. I’ve long since gotten over him. In fact, these days I find him a bit of a bore. The problem is that my family thinks I’m harboring this great unrequited love for him. When I try to tell them that I could care less, they just smile and tell me that I’m being so brave.”

Hassan chuckled at her indignant expression, and the warm sound rolled through Kali, drowning her annoyance. She’d never heard Hassan chuckle before. It was the most sexually enticing sound she’d ever experienced. And the most distracting. She fought to keep her focus on what she wanted to say and not on how she felt.

“So I thought that if I were to take you with me to the christening of Bart and Annette’s baby tomorrow and introduce you to my family, they’ll realize that I’m not still hankering after Bart.

“And you did say that we’d go out and meet them when you got back,” she added when he didn’t respond.

Now what? Hassan wondered in dismay. This was hardly the time to tell her that not only wasn’t he Karim, but Karim had changed his mind about marrying her. She’d be humiliated when she had to go home and tell her family that she’d been rejected by yet another fiancé.

Hassan stared down into her soft, brown eyes and felt a surge of tenderness at the uncertainty he could see there. He couldn’t do it to her. Not without some warning. And his bad news could easily wait until after the christening. In fact, it would probably be better to tell her then. That way she’d have some time to figure out the best way to tell her family about Karim’s defection.

And he did have the weekend free. He didn’t have to be back in Boston until Monday morning.

But to impersonate his brother…That was the kind of impulsive behavior that had always characterized Karim, not him. He was the cautious twin. The one who could always be counted on to do the right thing.

But wasn’t minimizing the impact Karim’s defection had on Kali the right thing to do? Or was he simply rationalizing his inexplicable desire to see more of her even though he knew perfectly well that nothing could ever come of it.

His motives were irrelevant, he finally decided. His family owed Kali a fiancé for the weekend. Since he was the only one in America at the moment, it was up to him to pay the debt.

“I’ll go,” Hassan blurted out and then winced at the curt sound of his acceptance. He’d sounded as if he were agreeing to something he didn’t want to do, and it wasn’t like that at all.

“Thanks, Karim. Um…Hassan. Why do you want to be called Hassan all of a sudden?” she asked.

“It’s my nickname in the family,” he lied. “And I much prefer it to Karim.”

“Oh,” Kali muttered, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned his preference of names when she’d accepted his proposal. Although there hadn’t been much opportunity for him to tell her anything so far, she reminded herself. The only time they’d had together was that one rushed evening before he’d had to fly to Australia. This really was the first chance he’d had.

Hassan shifted from one handmade shoe to the other as he quickly sifted through his mind, looking for another topic of conversation. One that didn’t have any hidden dangers to it. Not only did the thoughtful expression on her face make him very uneasy, but he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to go back to Karim’s empty apartment. He wanted to stay here and listen to the seductive sound of Kali’s voice.

He wanted to do a whole lot more than talk to her, he admitted. His eyes instinctively homed in on her luscious lips. He wanted to pull her back into his arms and cover her mouth with his. He wanted to taste the essence of her. He wanted to breathe in the luxuriant floral scent that clung to her. She was like an erotic gift that a benevolent deity had packaged for some lucky man.

A gift! He suddenly remembered that one took a present to christenings.

“What did you buy for the baby?”

“Nothing yet,” Kali said. “I was going to pick something up during my lunch hour yesterday, but like most Fridays I wound up running late and never got around to it.”

“Why don’t we go and buy something now?”

The sudden spurt of pleasure that shot through Kali at the thought of spending the afternoon with him caught her by surprise. But why shouldn’t she find pleasure in his company? She was going to marry the man. It was probably just the thought of spending tomorrow, with her sister giving her guilty looks, that had unsettled her. Once the christening was over, things would return to normal.

“I’d love to. I—” Kali paused as she suddenly remembered something. “Did you bring my boomerang?”

“Boomerang?” he asked cautiously.

“You forgot to get it.” She gave him a ruefully exasperated look that made him want to kiss it off her lips…and then to keep on kissing her until she couldn’t remember the first thing about boomerangs.

“I just forgot to bring it with me,” Hassan said, hastily improvising. “I’ll give it to you tomorrow.

“Would you mind if I used your bathroom before we go shopping?” As soon as he asked, he wished he hadn’t. He had no idea where her bathroom was, and his brother would surely have known.

“Help yourself.” Kali made a faint gesture toward the hallway at the back of the living room.

Hassan walked toward it, trying to look more sure of himself than he felt. To his relief, the bathroom door was ajar.

Slipping inside, he hastily closed the door behind him. He turned the water on full force to hide the sound of his voice, hurriedly dialed his father’s consulate on his cell phone and asked for the consul, Mohammed. A minute later, Hassan had arranged for a boomerang to be delivered the following morning to Karim’s apartment.

Deep in thought, Hassan left the bathroom. Now, if he were buying Kali a gift it certainly wouldn’t be an oddly shaped piece of wood. It would be something very personal and highly feminine. Something like jewelry. Maybe emeralds to highlight the tawny tints in her hair. Yes, that was it. He’d buy her a necklace with an emerald suspended from a long golden chain. Long enough so that the jewel would rest in the cleft between her breasts. He felt his guts clench as his mind pictured her wearing such a necklace and nothing else.

“Ready to go?” Kali’s voice dragged him out of his delightful daydream.

What was the matter with him? he wondered uneasily as he walked toward the front door with Kali. He hadn’t fantasized this much about a woman since he’d been an adolescent and his every second thought had been of sex. Now he was a grown man, a highly trained pediatrician, who knew that sex without commitment had no place in his life. And who also knew that he couldn’t make a commitment to any Western woman. For her sake.

He tried to ignore the sense of loss that filled him at the thought of never making love to Kali.

“What are we going to buy the child?” Hassan asked, once they were in the elevator.

“Well…I’m not sure. I doubt that Eddie needs anything. My mother started buying things when she found out my sister was pregnant, and she hasn’t stopped since.”

“How about the traditional silver porringer?”

“What’s a porringer?”

“I think it’s a bowl that you put cereal in, but I wouldn’t give you odds on it.”

She grinned at him. “How can I ask to see something when I’m not even sure what it is?”

“Easy. You simply walk into a jewelry store, stare down the length of your nose at the clerk and demand to see a silver porringer.” He mimicked one of his father’s imperious looks to demonstrate.

Kali felt a chill sweep through her as her gaze moved up over his clenched jaw and tightly compressed lips, but her sense of apprehension dissolved when she reached his eyes and saw the devilment dancing in their dark depths. It totally dispelled the autocratic expression he was trying to create.

Smiling she reached up and ran her fingertips along his jawline. “No one who looks into your eyes is ever going to buy your impersonation of a despot.”

Hassan felt a tiny muscle beneath his left eye twitch at the tantalizing sensation of her fingertips moving over his skin. Instinctively he captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

Her skin felt warm and infinitely intriguing. His tongue darted out to taste it, and a sense of satisfaction filled him as he saw her eyes widen in reaction. Whatever it was that he felt when he was around her, she obviously felt something, too. Or was it that she was reacting to him because she thought he was Karim? The appalling thought effectively doused his ardor, and he dropped her hand as if burned.

“Are you the baby’s godmother?” Hassan clung to the relatively safe subject of the christening like a lifeline.

Kali gulped in air, trying to get enough breath to answer him. She felt as if his kiss had seared her, leaving a permanent imprint of his lips on her skin. Despite the fact that she knew her reaction was highly illogical, it didn’t change the way she felt.

Worry about your strange reaction later, she told herself. For now she needed to concentrate on treating him as she always had. As a mildly sexy, highly intelligent, very likable man. Whom she was going to marry. The tantalizing thought did nothing for her already-shaky composure.

“I’m not the godmother,” Kali finally answered him. “If you can believe it, my mother told me that Bart feels it would be too painful for me. I swear, sometimes I want to grab Bart by one of his appalling ties and shake him until his sense of overweening importance falls out!”

“Are they?”

Kali blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Are his ties appalling?”

“Yes. Clashing splotches of color, not tastefully modern like—” Her voice faded away when she noticed the somber magnificence of his navy-and-green striped silk tie.

Uh-oh, Hassan thought. He’d completely forgotten Karim’s penchant for avant-garde neckwear. “This is my old school tie,” he hurriedly offered an explanation, hoping she wouldn’t know what the Eton tie really looked like.

Kali nodded, although the thoughtful look in her eyes made him uneasy.

Just how smart was she? he wondered, trying to remember what Karim had said about her. It hadn’t been much. Just that she was a psychologist, which meant she was used to looking beneath the surface of things. And if she were to look at him too closely.

It wouldn’t matter, he assured himself as he followed her out of the building. His impersonation wouldn’t last long enough for her to figure out that he wasn’t Karim. By tomorrow evening he’d have told her the truth and. His mind shied away from the thought of what would follow.

“There’s a taxi.” Kali waved madly to attract its attention, and Hassan determinedly banished his worries.

“Where to?” the driver demanded, when they were in the taxi.

“Blackwells over by Times Square.” Hassan gave him the name of his mother’s favorite jewelry store. “If anyone in New York City has a porringer it’ll be Blackwells,” Hassan told Kali.

When they reached the jeweler’s, Kali climbed out of the cab and examined the display windows while Hassan paid the fare. The elaborate ruby-and-diamond necklace casually draped across a piece of black velvet gave her doubts about the wisdom of going inside. That necklace looked as if it had come from the Hermitage’s collection of the Russian royal family’s jewelry.

“Hassan,” she said when he joined her, “I don’t know what the Institute pays you, but I get the impression I don’t make enough to shop in this place.” She glanced down again at the beautiful necklace. “In fact, I could get an inferiority complex just window shopping here.”

Hassan studied her uncertainly, wondering if she were serious. She seemed like such a self-possessed woman. So sure of herself and her place in the world that it was hard for him to believe she could suffer from some of the same social insecurities that he did.

He frowned as he suddenly realized the full implication of her words. She thought Karim was dependent on what he earned as a research scientist. Obviously Karim hadn’t told her that their father ruled a very oil-rich country in the Middle East. So rich that Saad Dev’a’s citizens enjoyed one of the highest standards of living in the world.

Why hadn’t Karim told her? Hassan wondered. Because he hadn’t wanted Kali’s decision to marry him to be based on his wealth? Or had he been afraid that Kali might turn him down if she realized just how different their backgrounds were?

Hassan didn’t know, but he did know that Karim knew women far better than he could ever hope to. If Karim hadn’t wanted Kali to know his financial worth, then he’d keep it a secret, too.

“I have a thrifty nature,” he finally said. “So that when I do want to splurge a little, I can afford to.”

“But I can’t let you pay for Eddie’s gift.”

“Oh, yes, you can. We’re engaged, remember.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing,” Hassan pulled open the door. “Come on.”

Reluctantly Kali followed Hassan into the elegant store.

“Good afternoon.” The middle-aged clerk gave Kali a practiced smile before his gaze moved to Hassan. He instantly priced the hand-tailored perfection of Hassan’s suit, and his smile widened. “Sir. How may I be of service to you this afternoon?”

“We would like to see a christening gift,” Hassan said.

“Certainly. If you and,” the clerk’s eyes dropped to Kali’s ringless fingers, “the lady will sit down, I will be glad to show you some appropriate gifts. Or did you already have something in mind?”

Hassan waited until Kali sat in one of the chairs the clerk had pointed to before he sat down beside her.

“We want a silver porringer,” Hassan said.

“Ah! A traditionalist after my own heart.” The clerk beamed at him. “Just a moment while I check our stock. I’ll be right back.”

Kali watched the man disappear into the back and then whispered, “I don’t believe it. He really does have a porringer.”

True to his word, the man was back almost immediately carrying a black lacquered tray holding three dark blue velvet bags. “We have several porringers in stock. These—” he pulled two of them out of their protective bags and set them on the counter in front of Kali “—are strictly traditional.

“This one,” he pointed to the fairly plain one, “is a copy of one that George IV of England gave to the Marquis of Londonderry at his christening in 1821. While this one—” He held up an ornately cast one “—is a copy of one from an earlier period. As you can see, it has a more baroque feel to it.”

“They’re beautiful,” Kali said, wondering if the unknown Marquis had really eaten his cereal out of anything that valuable.

“Nice, but we wanted something a little more ostentatious,” Hassan said, and Kali suppressed a groan. Much more ostentatious and between them they wouldn’t be able to pay for it.

The clerk unexpectedly grinned, looking far more human. “In that case, I have exactly the thing for you. It was a special order that was unfortunately canceled. It is most definitely impressive.”

He picked up the last velvet sack and pulled out a small gold bowl which he set reverently in front of Kali. “As you can see from the luster, it is almost pure gold. Which of course means that it is nowhere near as sturdy as the silver ones. It is meant strictly for display.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kali breathed, “but far too impractical,” she hurriedly added at Hassan’s speculative expression.

“We’ll take it,” Hassan said, ignoring Kali’s indrawn hiss. He was determined she was going to have a gift to take that would impress the hell out of her ex-fiancé.

And a ring. Hassan remembered how the clerk had automatically checked Kali’s hand for an engagement ring. Bart would be bound to do the same thing.

“While we’re here, would you show us some engagement rings?” Hassan said.

“Certainly, sir.” The man rubbed his hands together, and Kali could almost see him mentally calculating his commission. “Does the lady have a choice of stone?”

Does the lady have a choice at all, Kali thought with an uncertain look at Hassan. What was he up to? When she’d accepted his proposal, he’d asked her if she’d wanted a ring, and she’d said no, seeing no reason for him to go to the expense for what was to be merely a merger of friends. He’d agreed with her then, so why had he changed his mind now?

“An emerald,” Hassan said, remembering his earlier fantasy.

“An excellent choice with the lady’s coloring,” the man approved. “We have several fine stones in stock at the moment. I’ll just get them out of the safe.”

He hurried toward the back of the store, almost as if he were afraid they might change their minds and leave before he could clinch a sale.

Kali barely waited until the man was out of hearing before she turned to Hassan. “We decided against a ring.”

“You need one for tomorrow,” Hassan insisted. “Your family isn’t going to believe that you’re really engaged if you don’t have a ring. Bart gave you one when you got engaged, didn’t he?”

“Yes, a diamond.” Kali’s eyes automatically dropped to her left hand, remembering the ring he’d given her. It had been small, but she’d loved it out of all proportion to its size, seeing it as confirmation of Bart’s love.

“You don’t still have it, do you?” Hassan asked, shocked at the anger filling him at her faraway expression. He was angry on her behalf, he assured himself. Angry that she had been so badly used. It didn’t matter to him personally. It couldn’t. He’d only known her a few hours.

“Certainly not. I gave it back to him. I have no idea what happened to it.”

The clerk emerged from the back room and set a small tray of rings down in front of them with a flourish.

Kali looked down at them, trying to keep her appreciation of their beauty out of her face. They looked frightfully expensive. But maybe Hassan was looking on the ring as an investment? That was probably it, she decided, feeling fractionally better. While she preferred to invest in stocks and bonds, she knew lots of people bought gold and precious gems as a hedge against inflation.

“What about this one?” Hassan picked up a large, square-cut stone set in yellow gold and handed it to her.

Obediently Kali tried it on, her eyes widening in appreciation at the way the magnificent gem caught the light.

“Do you like it?” Hassan asked.

“It is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen,” she said, instinctively blurting out the truth.

“We’ll take it,” Hassan said in satisfaction. He’d been right. Emeralds were the perfect choice for Kali.

“Urn, Hassan.” Kali shot him a warning look. Investment or not, they ought to at least ask how much it was before they committed themselves.

“It’s too loose.” She grabbed the first excuse she could think of.

“No problem at all,” the clerk said cheerfully. “I can have it resized within the hour.”

What’s going to be resized is both our bank accounts, Kali thought, but somehow she just couldn’t refuse to accept it. Not with Hassan looking so pleased with himself. But why was he so pleased with himself? She had absolutely no idea, and that bothered her. She’d thought she had a pretty good understanding of both his personality and what motivated him.

But his insistence on buying her a ring seemed completely out of character for him…or else she’d misread his character in the first place. She didn’t find either possibility reassuring.

Uneasily she watched as Hassan followed the clerk over to the counter to pay for their purchases. What other surprises did Hassan have in store for her? The idea both worried and exhilarated her.

Two

Hassan shifted the brightly painted boomerang from his right hand to his left, patted his suit jacket pocket to make sure Kali’s ring was still there and then rapped sharply on her apartment door. Giving her that ring had become very important to him. He wanted her to have a memento of him that had nothing to do with his brother. And tonight, after he told her the truth, he’d insist she keep it.

Kali flung the door open. “You’re early.”

“Traffic was light,” he improvised, suddenly remembering that Karim was perpetually late to everything.

“Come in.” Kali stepped back, when what she wanted to do was put her arms around him and kiss him. To breathe in the cold tang of the outdoors that he brought with him and then to snuggle even closer to savor the scent of his new cologne. A compulsion she was at a total loss to explain. It made no sense that a two-week absence should have intensified her previously tepid sexual curiosity about him to the point where it was in imminent danger of becoming an obsession.

One thing was certain, she thought as she surreptitiously studied him, her newfound fascination was not reciprocated or he would have kissed her when he’d arrived. But maybe he was waiting for a sign from her that she would welcome a kiss? But what if he wasn’t and she gave him a sign. What would he think then?

“Here’s your boomerang.” Hassan handed it to her, giving her hopelessly tangled thoughts a safer direction.

“Thank you. I always wanted a real Australian boomerang. The ones I had as a kid never worked, and I always wondered if it was because I simply didn’t have the knack for throwing them or if it was because they weren’t authentic.

“What are all these figures painted on it?” she asked.

“Aborigine pictographs,” Hassan quoted what Mohammed had told him. “They’re supposed to make game susceptible to it.”

“I see.” Kali glanced speculatively around the living room. If she didn’t throw it very hard, there was just room enough to see if there was any curve in its trajectory.

“You can’t throw that inside.” Hassan correctly interpreted her look.

She gave him an impish grin that inexplicably made him feel ten years old again. But not quite, he realized. Now the feeling had sexual overtones that he hadn’t even been aware had existed at that age.

“Of course I can,” Kali said. “Whether I should or not is entirely another matter.”

He was about to point out the danger of shattering a window on the sixth floor when he remembered that he was supposed to be Karim. His twin certainly would see nothing wrong with playing with a boomerang indoors. In fact, Karim would probably be demanding the first turn.

“I’m not going to throw it hard,” Kali explained as she tested the boomerang’s balance on her fingertips. “I just want to see if it curves.”

To Hassan’s relief, she turned toward the kitchen, away from the windows, and gave it a restrained toss. It flew ten feet straight ahead before dropping like a stone.

“I don’t think boomerangs ever work!” Kali complained “I’ll bet it’s all just a lie put out by the Australian Tourist Board to sell the blasted things.”

“Maybe you simply haven’t said the proper incantations.”

“Incantations?” Kali looked up, her attention caught by the odd note in his voice. “What kind of incantations?”

“Boomerangs are hunting weapons and as such exclusively the property of men. You’re a woman.”

And what a woman, he thought, allowing his gaze to linger on the swell of her breasts beneath her cream silk blouse.

“Maybe what I need is some woman magic to counter the masculine pictographs,” she said, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted, so that if he withdrew from her it wouldn’t embarrass either of them. And if he didn’t withdraw…

She took a deep breath. She might be able to finagle a kiss out of this.

“Woman magic?” Hassan asked.

“Uh-huh, woman magic is a very potent force in all primitive societies.” Kali slowly ran the tip of her tongue over her dry lips as she scrambled for a way to move things out of the realm of spoken language and into that of body language.

Her confidence level soared when she noticed his eyes following her tongue’s movement.

Slowly Kali advanced toward him, drawing pictures in the air with her fingers as she came.

“I am woman. I am all-powerful.” She sing-songed the words, not stopping until she was almost touching him.

To her surprise and delight, Hassan suddenly reached out and pulled her up against him. She landed against his hard chest with a bump that momentarily dislodged rational thought. Automatically she put out her hands to steady herself, grasping his arms. She could feel his hard biceps through the sleek wool material of his gray suit. It was an intriguing combination. Much like Hassan himself was turning out to be.

“Women are many things, but powerful isn’t one of them.” Hassan couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from her lips. She had the most alluring mouth he’d ever seen.

“You mean this isn’t the time to tell you that I was the best student in my self-defense class at the Y?” Kali tilted her head back, and the movement pushed her breasts into his chest, sending a wave of desire spiraling through her.

“Really?” Hassan’s arms tightened, lifting her off her feet and holding her securely against him. “Try to get free.”

Now why would she want to do a dumb thing like that? Kali wondered, when he felt like the embodiment of every sexual fantasy she’d ever had as well as a few she hadn’t gotten around to yet.

“But it’s woman magic I control,” she murmured, nuzzling her face against his neck. “And woman magic is a little different from brute strength. For example,” she trailed her lips along his jawline and began to nuzzle the skin behind his ear. She could feel his body’s instant response, and it fed her self-confidence.

She took a deep, indulgent breath of the delicious aroma that clung to him, allowing it to fill her lungs. Savoring the sensations unfurling in her, Kali licked the spot she’d been caressing, smiling happily when he gasped.

Emboldened she traced back over his jawline with her lips, exploring the exact texture of his skin. It had a faintly raspy feel to it as if he had a very heavy beard.

Her speculation was cut short as Hassan suddenly turned his head and captured her mouth with his. His lips pressed forcefully against hers, demanding that she open her mouth to his exploration. Instinctively she obeyed, and he shoved his tongue inside with a rough hunger Kali found incredibly sexy.

Reaction poured over her in waves, raising goose bumps on her flesh. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, trying to bind him closer. She hadn’t realized that a simple kiss could feel like this. She could even hear bells.

A monumental sense of loss filled her as Hassan suddenly dropped his arms and stepped back.

Kali gulped in air, struggling to get control of her turbulent emotions. It wasn’t easy. She felt shaken to the very core of her being. Totally unlike herself. And totally unlike the sensible, competent woman Hassan had proposed to. The fear that he might notice her unprecedented reaction and wonder about it was like a shower of cold water on her overheated emotions.

Kali ran her fingers down over the smooth line of her green tweed skirt willing them to stop trembling.

“Here, I almost forgot,” Hassan said.

Kali looked up to find him holding out the engagement ring he’d bought her yesterday.

Kali stared down at the exquisite thing, wondering how anyone could ever forget something so beautiful…even for a moment. The huge emerald seemed to glow as if lit from within.

“It’s even more gorgeous than I remember,” she said, uncertain as to whether she should put it on or let him, as a couple would do in a normal engagement.

But she didn’t want a normal engagement. She’d already tried falling in love, and it had been a complete disaster. Her cool, considered arrangement with Hassan was much better.

She looked up into Hassan’s dark eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. At least it had been cool and considered, she amended. But for some reason, ever since Hassan had gotten back from Australia, he’d been different.

No, she corrected herself as she studied his familiar features. Hassan wasn’t different. What was different was how she was reacting to him. And she had no idea why.

Hassan answered her unspoken question by taking her hand and slipping the ring on her finger.

“A perfect fit,” Hassan announced, wanting to kiss her again. He wanted to see if it felt the same or if his explosive reaction to their earlier kiss had been a fluke. He wanted.some common sense. He choked off his desire with monumental effort. He had absolutely no business kissing her, because tonight he was going to tell her the truth.

But until then he was playing the part of her fiancé and if he didn’t play the part convincingly, he wouldn’t fool her family. And this whole exercise would have been a waste.

Kali watched the emotions flitting across his face, wondering what he was thinking. She didn’t have a clue. Hassan was turning out to be a lot more complicated than she’d originally thought.

But this wasn’t the time to worry about it, she told herself as the cuckoo clock she’d lugged home from Germany four years ago suddenly chimed the half hour.

Hurriedly she got her tan dress coat out of the closet and shrugged into it.

“I told Mom I’d call her from the train station when we get in,” Kali told Hassan as she carefully locked her apartment door behind them. “Someone will collect us.”

“I’ve got a car.”

“But you hate to drive.” She frowned uncertainly at him.

Damn! Hassan mentally cursed his slip. How could he have forgotten the car accident that had killed his uncle and led to the breakup of his parents’ happy marriage? Six-year-old Karim had been severely injured. The whole family had spent the next fifteen years catering to his every whim. The accident had also left Karim with a horror of driving. But maybe Karim hadn’t told Kali the reason he didn’t drive. He didn’t seem to have told her anything else about his background.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that I hate to drive,” Hassan carefully felt his way. “It’s more that I find it a nuisance in New York City. But I thought that it would be better not to be tied to the Long Island Railroad’s schedule. Especially on a Sunday. So I borrowed a car from a friend at the consulate.”

Kali chuckled. “You sound like you’re anticipating a quick getaway. Not that I blame you. The best of families can be pretty heavy going at times.”

“I’ll say!”

Kali blinked at his heartfelt tone, wondering what he was thinking of. His own family? She frowned when she realized that she knew almost nothing about them. Just a couple of chance comments that added up to the fact that his mother was English and his parents were divorced.

“Hassan, do you have any brothers and sisters?”

“No sisters, but two brothers. I’m parked right out in front of your building.” He deliberately changed the subject, hoping he hadn’t sounded as abrupt to her as he did to himself. He could hardly give her any specifics about his brothers without lying, and he didn’t want to tell any more lies than he absolutely had to.

He held the lobby door open for her and then led her over to the large black Mercedes that Mohammed had loaned him.

“Very impressive.” Kali studied the leather interior as Hassan started the car. “I don’t think I’ve ever driven in anything this luxurious before.”

“Hmm” Hassan murmured, his mind completely taken up with the sound of her voice. She had the most intriguing voice he’d ever heard in a woman. Low and husky, full of feminine promise. And that was just in a normal, everyday setting. What would her voice sound like if he were to make love to her? Soft and dreamy? A sudden shaft of desire pierced his composure, making him grip the steering wheel tightly. Not now, he thought, forcing himself to concentrate on driving. There were enough distractions on the road without his adding the most dangerous one of all—sexual desire.

* * *

The trip out to Long Island took almost an hour. An hour during which Kali had become increasingly aware of Hassan’s physical presence: the way his long fingers competently gripped the wheel; the way his broad shoulders shifted as he steered the car; the length of his long legs so near to her own.

By the time they reached her home, she was beginning to feel rattled. As if she were a music box which had been wound too tightly and now couldn’t quite perform the way it was supposed to. But why? The question nagged at her. Why was she responding so strongly to him now, when she never had before?

Could it be because he was being more open with her than he had in the past? Like sharing his family nickname and taking her shopping? But it couldn’t be just that. She remembered the unprecedented surge of desire she’d felt when she’d opened the door yesterday afternoon and had seen him standing there. She’d experienced the attraction before he’d even said a word.

Maybe she shouldn’t try to figure it out, she considered. Maybe she should simply accept it as a good thing that she was so sexually attracted to the man she was going to marry.

But was it a good thing? she wondered uneasily.

She stole a quick glance at Hassan as he pulled into her parents’ driveway. Would Hassan think so? He’d been crystal clear about only wanting a wife who liked him. A wife who wouldn’t interfere with his work or make emotional demands on him. What would he say if she were to suddenly tell him that she was fast becoming obsessed with his body?

She sighed. Put like that, it sounded so…juvenile. Adult women of thirty who had agreed to what was essentially a marriage of convenience should be able to control their sexual desires. So why couldn’t she?

“Don’t worry.” Hassan misunderstood the reason for her sigh. “I’ll protect you from Bart.”

An image of Bart’s slightly overweight, definitely outof-condition body flitted through her mind. Bart wouldn’t stand a chance against Hassan. Not that she needed protecting from Bart or anyone else for that matter. She was a modern woman who was the graduate of a self-defense class. She could protect herself.

“Come on. Let’s get this show on the road.” Kali determinedly shoved open the car door, hoping that Annette and Bart hadn’t arrived yet. It would be easier if she could introduce Hassan to her parents first.

Fate turned a deaf ear to her hopes. The first person she saw when she opened the front door was Bart.

“Kali, glad you could make it,” he said, sounding to Kali’s critical ears just a shade too expansive.

“Bart” Kali nodded. “I’d like you to meet my flancé, Hassan Rashid.”

“Glad to meet you,” Bart shook the hand Hassan held out. “I guess you and I have something in common. Or didn’t Kali tell you about us?” Bart gave her a conspiratorial look that made Kali want to smack him. Hard. Why did he persist in referring to the past?

“You mean your engagement?” Hassan gave Bart his best imitation of what he and Karim had always called their father’s long-suffering-aristocrat-faced-with-erringpeasant expression. “That’s what youth is for—to make mistakes. After all, if Kali hadn’t experimented when she was young, how would she ever have realized what she really wanted in a man?”

Kali wanted to fling her arms around Hassan and hug him. With just a few words he’d relegated her engagement to Bart to the ranks of a youthful mistake and not a very important one at that.

“I’ll let your mother know you’re here, Kali.” Bart gave Hassan a sour look and escaped into the kitchen.

“You’ve got to show me how to do that,” Kali said.

“Do what?”

“That look you gave Bart. It was inspired. Where did you learn it?”

Hassan chuckled, finding her humor infectious. “From my father. He always used it on—” he hurriedly caught himself before he said Karim and substituted “—me, whenever I’d done something that particularly annoyed him.”

“Oh?” Kali felt a momentary flash of unease at the realization that she knew absolutely nothing about his father. What was he like? Would he dislike her? Did he even know that Hassan had proposed to her?

“Hassan,” she said slowly, “what is your father going to say about you marrying an American woman?”

“He’ll love you,” Hassan said, knowing his father would have given his blessing to Karim’s marrying her because he intended to live and work in America.

Hassan also knew his father would be violently opposed to him marrying Kali because he was committed to returning to the Middle East once his course in hospital management was completed.

When his uncle’s death in the automobile accident had forced his father’s return to the kingdom, his parents’ marriage had faltered and eventually crumbled. His mother had been unable to adjust to life there. His father certainly wouldn’t want that pain revisited on one of his sons.

And he was absolutely right, Hassan admitted. Western women did not belong in the narrow restrictive world of his country.

“Darling, you’re here!” Mrs. Whitman rushed into the living room, forestalling any more questions on Kali’s part for which Hassan was grateful.

“And you must be Karim.” Mrs. Whitman beamed at him. “My goodness, you’re tall. For an Arab, I mean.”

“Mom, his family calls him Hassan. Hassan, this tactful soul is my mother and—Where’s dad?” Kali looked behind her mother.

Mrs. Whitman grimaced. “One of his patients went into labor, and he had to leave. And, what’s worse, since it’s her first, he has no idea how long it’ll be. So annoying when he was looking forward to meeting your fiancé.” She smiled at Hassan.

“And I was looking forward to meeting him, Mrs. Whitman,” Hassan said cautiously. It sounded as if Kali’s father was an obstetrician, but he couldn’t be sure. Nor could he ask, because he didn’t know if Kali had already told Karim. Which meant his best bet would be to stick to social platitudes, he decided.

“Oh, call me Mom,” Mrs. Whitman said. “After all, you’ll soon be one of the family. I mean, it’s not like last time when…um…Do come in and meet Kali’s sister,” Mrs. Whitman said hurriedly.

“Mom is not known for thinking before she speaks,” Kali whispered to Hassan as they followed her mother into the family room. “But she means well.”

As he did with this impersonation, Hassan thought, having a great deal of empathy for Mrs. Whitman.

“Kali, I’m so glad you could make it.” Annette looked up from the couch where she was giving her son a bottle of juice.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Kali put her arm through Hassan’s and drew him close to her, almost losing her train of thought when she felt the hard length of him pressing against her side.

“Annette, this is Hassan Rashid, my fiancé.” Some of the excitement she was feeling colored her voice, giving it a sensual quality that sent a shiver of awareness through Hassan.

Responding to it, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. She fit perfectly against his side. As if she’d been created expressly for him, he thought fancifully.

“I’m glad to meet you, Hassan.” Annette didn’t sound any too sure of the fact.

“And I you,” Hassan said. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

Annette blinked uncertainly. “Me?”

“Yes, if you hadn’t married her first fiancé, I would have missed the love of my life.” Hassan said smoothly.

“You’re welcome. Don’t you think Eddie has grown, Kali?” Annette seemed eager to change the subject.

“Definitely. He’s starting to look more like a person and less like a baby.”

Eddie reacted to her pronouncement by bursting into tears.

“Here, Hassan, you can hold him.” Bart plucked his howling son out of Annette’s arms and handed the baby to Hassan. “It’ll give you a chance to practice.”

To Kali’s surprise, Hassan not only took Eddie, but he also competently cradled him against his shoulder as if holding screaming children were something he did every day.

“Hey there, sport, what’s wrong?” Hassan gently rubbed the baby’s back.

Eddie let out a tremendous belch, hiccuped once and then snuggled his small head against Hassan’s broad shoulder.

Kali felt her heart contract at the sight of the large man and the tiny baby. Someday that would be their child Hassan would be holding. A baby that they had made together. The very thought made her feel lightheaded.

“You’re very good with children, Hassan,” Mrs. Whitman said. “Do you have any yourself?”

“No, I’ve never been married,” Hassan replied.

“Marriage isn’t what makes babies,” Bart chortled.

“Here, let me take him before he dribbles all over that nice suit of yours, Hassan.” Annette hurriedly took her son. “Kali, I think he needs changing. Want to come and help me?”

“Yes, dear. Go help your sister,” Mrs. Whitman urged. “Bart and I will entertain Hassan for you.”

Entertain didn’t describe Bart’s conversation so far, Kali thought as she reluctantly followed Annette. She had definite misgivings about leaving Hassan in Bait’s company. For some reason, Bart had taken a dislike to Hassan the moment he’d set eyes on him.

Kali stifled a sigh. It promised to be a long day. Especially without her father there to keep the conversation on an even keel.

“What time is the ceremony?” Kali asked.

“About three. Everyone else will meet us at the church. We’re having the reception in the church basement so Mom doesn’t have to clean up the mess.”

Annette put the baby down on the changing table and picked up a clean diaper.

When she was finished, she turned to Kali and said, “Kali, are you sure about…”

Annette gestured toward the door.

“Yes,” Kali said, rather surprised at the vehemence with which the word came out. But it was true. She really was sure. The doubts that had sprung up while Hassan had been in Australia had completely vanished now that he was back home. She was not only sure that she was doing the right thing by marrying him, she also could hardly wait.

“Oh, I know he’s handsome…”

“Very handsome,” Kali amended. “He’s also sexy as hell.”

“That is obvious. He reminds me of that book we read when we were young. You remember the one about the sheik who kidnaps the English girl and winds up marrying her.”

“Sorry to deflate your fantasy, but Hassan is most definitely a man of the twentieth century,” Kali said, ignoring her earlier doubts.

“But he’s foreign.”

“So am I, from his perspective.”

“Yes, but…”

“But what?”

“Well, Bart thinks that Hassan is just marrying you to get his green card.”

Annette was wrong. Bart didn’t think! Kali held on to her temper with a real effort. Mainly because she knew that Annette loved her and really did worry about her. About Bart’s motives Kali wasn’t so sure.

“Annette, Hassan has been in this country since graduate school. He certainly doesn’t need marriage to me to give him any legal standing. Now how about letting me hold my favorite nephew.”

Annette giggled. “He’s your only nephew. Are you and Hassan going to have any kids?”

“Scads,” Kali said blithely.

“Kali!” Annette’s eyes widened as Kali settled the baby against her shoulder and Annette caught a glimpse of her engagement ring. “Your ring! Let me see it.”

Kali switched Eddie to her other shoulder and obligingly held out her left hand.

“My God!” Annette breathed. “It’s fantastic. Has Mom seen it?”

“No.”

“Then let’s show her. Come on,” she said, and Kali obediently trailed along behind her, happy to show off her gorgeous ring.

“Mom, look at Kali’s engagement ring,” Annette said when they returned to the family room. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

“Let me see, honey.” Mrs. Whitman grabbed Kali’s hand and held it up. The emerald caught the sunlight pouring in through the patio door and became a blaze of color.

“I’ve never seen an emerald that big, Hassan,” Mrs. Whitman said. “Wherever did you find it?”

“Blackwells,” Hassan said.

“Which reminds me, Annette,” Kali hurriedly changed the subject before her forthright mother could ask him how much it had cost. “Eddie’s christening gift is in my purse. Why don’t you get it.”

“You didn’t have to bring him a gift,” Annette said as she delved into Kali’s purse and pulled out the gaily wrapped package. “I mean, it’s not like you’re his godmother. Not that I didn’t wanted you to be, but Bart thought.” Annette ground to an embarrassed halt.

“No matter. He’s still my nephew,” Kali said. “Open your gift.”

Annette obediently ripped off the wrapping paper, gasping when she saw the golden gleam of the bowl. “It’s beautiful. Absolutely exquisite.”

“But what is it?” Bart asked.

“It’s a porringer,” Mrs. Whitman spoke up. “I remember my great-grandmother had one from when her mother was christened back in the old country. I didn’t even realize they still made them. Let alone in gold.”

Kali chuckled. “Neither did I. It was Hassan’s suggestion.”

“Thank you, Hassan.” Annette gave him a wide smile. “It’s the nicest gift I’ve gotten. It makes me feel like I’m part of a long tradition. You’re going to be a very nice addition to the family.”

No, Kali mentally corrected her sister. Hassan wasn’t a nice addition to the family. He was the perfect addition.

Three

“Can I help you with anything, Mom?” Kali asked when the timer sounded in the kitchen and Mrs. Whitman jumped to her feet as if eager to escape the stilted conversation in the family room.

As was Kali herself. If she had to listen to any more of Bart’s cracks about foreigners who were flooding America and grabbing up all the good jobs, she’d forget the necessity of maintaining peace and say something very rude. The wonder was that Hassan hadn’t already done so. He’d never been one to suffer fools gladly, and yet he hadn’t retaliated once to Bart’s barbs.

Perhaps he was swallowing his anger for her sake just as she was doing for her sister’s sake, Kali decided. Hassan did have beautiful manners.

“No, dear. I have lunch under control. Although you could run down to the basement and bring me up some of those brandied peaches I put up last summer and maybe a jar of dilled green beans, too.”

“Sure. Come help me, Hassan,” Kali said, wanting to give him a respite from Bart.

“You need help to carry two jars up from the basement, Kali?” Bart sniped.

Annette unexpectedly giggled. “Oh, darling, don’t be dense. Remember what it was like when we were engaged.”

Kali ignored both of them.

“I wouldn’t blame you for canceling the engagement after today,” Kali told Hassan once they were safely in the basement. “I can’t figure out what on earth is the matter with Bart. I mean I’ve known he was a bore for years now, but he’s always been a reasonably goodmannered bore. Today he’s acting like—”

“Like he’s suffering from a terminal case of jealousy,” Hassan said.

Kali turned from the shelves she’d been perusing and looked back at Hassan. He appeared enormous in the low-ceilinged basement.

“Of me? But why? It was my sister he wanted to marry. There hasn’t been anything between us since he first saw her almost two years ago.”

“But during that time he’s gotten into the habit of thinking of you as being in love with him. It strokes his ego to think that you’re pining for him.”

“And my bringing you home has pretty effectively shattered his self-delusion, because there is no way anyone could compare the pair of you and think that I was still hankering after Bart.” Kali followed Hassan’s logic a step further.

Hassan felt a quick surge of pleasure at her words that just as quickly faded. It didn’t matter what she thought of him since nothing could come from their brief relationship.

Kali turned and began to check the shelves for the jars her mother wanted.

Fascinated, he watched the slight movement of her hips beneath her slim skirt as she moved jars around the shelf. She had the most fantastic figure. Softly feminine and gently rounded, hinting at all kinds of delights.

His breath caught as she twisted slightly, trying to reach something in the back, and he caught a glimpse of the shape of her breast beneath her cream silk blouse. What would her breasts look like? he wondered. Would they be as soft as her face? Or would they be softer? Would…

“Here. Hold this while I try and find those peaches she wants.” Kali handed him a jar of green beans and then dragged an aluminum stepladder in front of the shelves.

Climbing to the top step, Kali began to absently move jars, her mind still taken up with what Hassan had said about Bart. It wasn’t that she thought he was wrong, because she didn’t. Once he’d pointed it out, it was obvious. What bothered her was that Hassan had seen it in the first place. In all the time she’d known him, he’d never shown the slightest tendency to look beneath the surface of a situation. In fact, his sometimes maddening tendency to simply accept things at face value had been one of the negatives she’d considered when she’d weighed the pros and cons of marrying him. And yet, he’d read the situation with Bart far more accurately than she had, and she was a trained psychologist.

So why hadn’t he ever shown that skill before? Kali stared blankly at a jar of minted pears. Never once during any of the neurological tests he’d performed on her patients had he shown the slightest insight into the kids’ actions.

Could it be because Bart was an adult and her patients had been kids?

Kali suddenly let out a horrified squeak and jerked backward when a huge, black spider ran across her hand. She teetered on the edge of the stepladder for a second, fighting for balance and then tipped over to land against Hassan’s chest.

His left arm closed around her rib cage, holding her crushed up against him, and she instinctively clutched his neck holding on for dear life.

“Why are you taking dives off stepladders?” He sounded no more than mildly curious.

“There was a spider, and I touched it! A huge spider!” Kali shuddered at the appalling memory of hairy legs running over her skin.

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