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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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