скачать книгу бесплатно
He didn’t say anything, which did nothing to ease Livy’s nerves. Better the jackass didn’t acknowledge her, she told herself, but she couldn’t do a darn thing about the heat crawling up her neck and stinging her cheeks.
“Livy? Are you all right?” Rose started to rise, but Livy waved for her to stay seated.
“I’m fine. Ella’s got some kind of bug, and Mrs. Coleman asked me to help out, but it looks like I might be coming down with something, too.” The words came out so fast and garbled that Livy wanted to sink into the seams of the hardwood floor.
Against her will, her gaze met Shay’s. Amusement glittered in his dark blue eyes, but his expression never wavered.
“The sugar needs replenishing,” he said calmly, and turned his attention away from her.
She blinked, stunned by his dismissal. His callous words dug their claws into her, and hurt replaced surprise. She moistened her suddenly dry lips and glanced at Rose.
The older woman was staring at her son with disapproval. She slowly lifted her napkin to her lips and dabbed a little, letting silence grow before she said, “King Zak is a lovely man. I’m sure he raised you with manners, Sharif.”
Livy wanted to disappear. She looked helplessly at the coffee. Rose would probably understand if Livy left the pot on the table and hightailed it out of here. Of course, judging by the way Shay’s jaw clenched, he just might beat her to the door. Right after he exploded.
But to her utter amazement, he did nothing. After a brief but awkward silence, he said, “I did not mean to be rude.”
He didn’t look at Livy or Rose, but faced straight ahead and that suited Livy just fine. Rose didn’t seem too pleased by the vague apology, but she didn’t push it.
“Your breakfast should be ready at any minute,” Livy mumbled as she poured the coffee, her gaze carefully directed to the chore. “Is there anything else you need besides sugar?”
“I’ll get it.” Rose started to rise. “I told Vi I’d love to help.”
“Oh, no. I’ll get it.” Livy jerked the pot and coffee sloshed over Shay’s cup into the saucer and splattered his shirt cuff. “Oh, boy.” She stared at the spray of brown against the snow-white silk. “Sorry.” She hoped he’d brought a lot of shirts.
He barely moved. His accusing gaze went from the dotted cuff to Livy’s face.
“It was an accident.” She lifted her chin.
“Of course it was,” Rose said, dipping her napkin in her water glass and reaching over to dab at the cuff.
Shay pulled away, and looked at Livy again. He said nothing as he extended his hand toward her, the soiled part of the cuff facing her.
Obviously he wanted her to clean it. She stared him down for a moment, tempted to pour the rest of the coffee over his head. But for Rose’s sake, Livy forced a smile and set the pot aside.
“Sharif.” Annoyance edged into Rose’s voice.
“No problem,” Livy said quickly, and plucked Shay’s linen napkin off his lap. Before he knew what she was doing, she dipped the fabric into his water glass and blotted the cuff.
He stared in disbelief. First at his wrist, and then at her. “Are you mad?”
“Fuming, actually,” she said, her temper overcoming her embarrassment. He had kissed her just yesterday, and now he was treating her as if he barely knew her. Or worse, as if she was his personal maid. What a jerk!
“Mad as in insane.” He snatched the napkin out of her hand, and started rubbing at the coffee stains himself.
“Gee, I’m glad to see you can do something for yourself.” Livy had almost forgotten Rose was in the room until she heard her stifle a laugh.
Shay was too busy rubbing with a vengeance to notice, and Livy slid the older woman an apologetic look.
Rose merely grinned. “Where did you say you two met?”
“The stables—” Livy started.
“I had the misfortune of—” Shay said at the same time, “meeting this impudent—”
“Enough.”
Everyone turned at the sound of a man’s commanding voice. But not before Shay slid her a cool look. And she sent him a resentful one back.
“Good morning, Zak.” Rose smiled broadly. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”
“I have already eaten.” His gaze stayed glued on Shay. “Nearly three hours ago.”
“I see.” Rose shot a nervous glance at her son, whose sullen expression hadn’t changed. “Then have some coffee with us, won’t you?”
Livy vaguely knew that was her cue to pour the man a cup, but she was too fascinated by him. He had to be a king or sheikh. Although he wore regular clothes, he was tall and broad and very dark and mysterious looking. It was easy to picture him on a throne inside a grand palace just like in the fairy tales. If she hadn’t seen the kindness in his eyes she might even have been afraid.
Instead of embarrassed. After all, these people were guests. Royalty, in fact. And she was the hired help.
“Livy?” Rose placed a gentle hand on her arm, and Livy jumped. “This is King Zakariyya Al Farid of Balahar, Sharif’s father. Zak, this is Olivia Smith.”
Maybe she was supposed to curtsy or something. Unsure, she dragged her palm down the front of her jeans, then stuck out her hand.
He accepted it, amusement twinkling in his eyes, but instead of a handshake, he brought the back of her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I am enchanted to meet you.”
Livy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. For a moment she felt so grown-up and important and horribly giddy. What the heck was she supposed to say now? She glanced at Rose for a clue. Nothing. Her gaze automatically went to Shay. He had an odd gleam in his eyes. He almost looked angry.
She swallowed and shuffled. “Me, too,” she finally mumbled as she freed her hand. “Uh, do you want coffee?”
King Zak nodded and, ignoring the place setting opposite Rose, he pulled out the chair beside her. To Livy’s surprise, a faint pink spread across the older woman’s cheeks. Livy quickly looked at Shay. He’d noticed, too. He didn’t look pleased.
Livy scooted around the table and got the cup and saucer, then filled it for King Zak. As she set it before him, she felt the weight of Shay’s stare, and she cautiously looked his way.
His gaze moved down her body, lingering on her breasts, before rising to lock with hers. Was he thinking about their kiss, about the way he’d touched her? Had he thought about her at all last night? The same squishy feeling that had made a fool out of her yesterday threatened her balance. She quickly looked away…to find Rose and King Zak watching her with interest.
“I’ll go see how the food is coming. Anybody need anything else?” Her unnaturally high voice made her spitting mad, but she forced a smile.
“I don’t think so.” Rose looked questioningly at King Zak, who shook his head.
Shay picked up his water glass and napkin and held them up to Livy. “You do intend to replace these.”
It wasn’t a question. More of a command, and Livy had a good mind to tell him what he could do with the glass. Sideways. “Of course,” she said politely, and fumed all the way back to the kitchen.
To think she’d wasted a precious night’s sleep on that jackass, she thought as she pitched the damp napkin and filled a fresh glass with the special bottled water Ella must have bought for the visitors. Although why anyone wouldn’t want the best-tasting well water in all of Texas from out back was beyond Livy’s understanding. Of course nothing seemed good enough for Shay. Especially not her.
“Anything wrong?” Vi asked.
She was so self-absorbed, Livy had almost forgotten Ella and Vi were in the kitchen. “Not a thing. Be right back.”
She hurried away before she started either cussing or sniveling and opened the door with her hip, then marched into the dining room, the water in one hand, the coffeepot in the other.
Shay turned at the sound of her footfalls. “Ah, there is the girl now.” He frowned at her loaded hands, then lifted one eyebrow. “The sugar?”
“Oh, silly me. How could I have forgotten?” She set the coffeepot on the corner of the table, lifted the clean napkin she had draped over her arm and laid it across Shay’s lap. That he jumped slightly pleased her enormously.
When he glanced menacingly at her, she pursed her lips. “You know what, Shay? You may be a hotshot in your country, but you really don’t know beans about women.”
His stunned look was worth her humiliation. She started to leave, careful not to make eye contact with King Zak or Rose. “Oh, I almost forgot your water,” she said, as she turned back to Shay and poured it over his head.
Chapter Four
Sharif cursed as the ice-cold water ran down his neck and spine. He jerked back and nearly toppled over. Rose stared at him with a hand over her mouth, shock widening her light blue eyes. His father remained expressionless.
Behind Sharif, the door swished closed. The coward had left.
“I don’t know what happened. Livy is usually such a sweet, sweet girl,” Rose began, waving helplessly. “I—I…”
His father lifted a silencing hand and Rose promptly obeyed. He looked directly at Sharif. “Do you know what provoked the woman?”
Sharif snatched the napkin off his lap before it absorbed any more water, and used it to dry his face. And to avoid his father’s probing eyes. “Why would I know about this crazy person? She is nothing more than a…”
After an awkward silence his father asked, “A what?”
He could not finish his initial thought aloud. Sharif’s reluctance had nothing to do with his father’s stern tone or the warning issued in his disapproving eyes. It was the recollection of the hurt in Olivia’s face that stopped him.
Shamed him.
Angered him.
Surely the vixen did not regard their playfulness yesterday as anything significant. He was merely passing the time, looking for a distraction. So what had prompted her outrageous behavior?
The hurt in her violet eyes echoed in his head.
To her mind, it was apparent he had done something wrong.
“Sharif?”
His father’s voice was quieter now, not so stern, making Sharif fear his expression had given away his self-doubt. He straightened and silently met the king’s eyes in subtle defiance.
“Tell me, Sharif. What do you think the woman’s punishment should be?”
“Oh, please, I’ll talk to her—” Rose began in a pleading tone, but again King Zak lifted a hand and again she fell silent.
Sharif stared at her subdued face, unnerved by the oddest desire to tell her to stand up to King Zak, to not be so docile.
Which was absurd. Women in his country, and where Rose once was queen, were taught subservience from an early age. Sharif liked it that way.
He turned to his father’s expectant face. “I will deal with her myself.”
“In what manner?”
Sharif saw the amusement lurking in the king’s eyes, and anger seized him once more. He would not be made the fool. Throwing down his napkin, he stood, heedless of his chair scraping the hardwood floor as it flung back.
Before he could say anything, a loud noise coming from outside drew their attention. Angry shouts, the slamming of car doors, the blare of a horn all sounded from somewhere in front of the house. King Zak and Rose both left the table and hurried toward the living room for a look through the expansive glass windows.
Sharif followed close behind, knowing deep down his nightmare was coming true. He had lain awake half the night, planning a counterattack if reporters were to show up again. He had no doubt the man yesterday was from the media, looking to publicize the shame of Sharif’s heritage. The problem was, he had no plan, no defense. He was, in fact, not the blood heir to the throne of Balahar.
“Oh, no.” Rose was first to the window, the sudden slump in her shoulders foretelling. “Reporters.”
Sharif looked away from the comforting hand his father pressed to her lower back, and stared out at the same dark sedan he had seen yesterday. Two men stood face-to-face with one of the ranch hands, all of them gesturing wildly.
“There’s Alex,” Rose said, straightening, a trace of pride in her voice. “He’ll take care of it.”
With a mixture of admiration, envy and relief, Sharif watched his eldest brother approach the men. Rose was right. Alex probably would take care of everything. From what Sharif had witnessed, he was the most sensible and responsible of the four brothers.
As soon as Alex joined the group, the shouting stopped. Moments later, the two strangers got in their car and left.
Alex stood watching until the car disappeared out the front gate. Their other brother, Cade, rode up on a black gelding, then climbed down to confer with Alex and the ranch hand. All three men glanced toward the house, and tension cramped Sharif’s shoulders.
Of course the commotion was about him. And, to a lesser degree, King Zak. And possibly Rose. Sharif had to face public scrutiny sooner or later.
Alex and Cade started toward the house while the third man led the gelding toward the barn. Rose sighed as she watched her two sons approach.
“I’m sure everything is fine,” she said, smiling.
She did not have to say her reassurance was due to Alex, and Sharif experienced a sting of jealousy. Absurd. These people meant nothing to him. He did like Alex. He seemed to be a good man, and Sharif was grateful to him for banishing the reporters. At least for now.
In fact, he liked all three of his brothers, and he hoped in time, they would become friends. But Rose could never replace his mother.
He saw the pride shining in her eyes as she watched Alex, and Sharif felt empty suddenly. He had seen how they interacted, as though they had never been separated. As though she had been the one who had dried his boyish tears and sung him to sleep. Sharif did not understand.
Perhaps they had a special bond because Alex remembered her. He had been four when Rose was torn from them. Cade and Mac were barely three and had no memory of her. Sharif had been the only one who had gone with her. Until he had outgrown the inside of her belly.
Sharif stepped back from the window, away from Rose, shaken by the sudden realization that they did have a bond, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. But in his heart, Queen Nadirah would always be his mother. Even though she had been ripped too early from his life. Her death still pained him.
His gaze automatically drew to Rose. Had she felt the same razor’s edge slicing through her body when he had been torn away from her?
Sharif pushed the crippling thought out of his mind. He could not afford sympathy or regret or any other emotional obstacle. Not now. His future was at stake.
His brothers neared the house just as Olivia walked outside, and they all stopped to talk. At the sight of her, Sharif’s chest tightened, oddly not from anger, but from something else. Something strange, foreign…something that made the hair at the back of his neck stand. As though she were some kind of primal threat to him.
He dismissed the ridiculous notion. Standing next to Alex, she looked small and fragile, like a child’s doll. She could not be much over five feet, and her wrists and hands were so tiny, Sharif had been concerned about hurting her yesterday. But she was no wilting desert flower. She had not cowered before anyone’s wishes as Rose had done.
Admiration dented his annoyance as he watched her with his brothers. Alex gestured toward the barn, and Olivia straightened. Shaking her head, she stuffed her hands into her pockets, her shoulders rolling slightly forward before she backed away and headed toward the stables.
Sharif wondered if their exchange had anything to do with yesterday. Olivia had done nothing wrong, and if Alex was upset, Sharif would speak to him.
“If you want to go change your shirt, I’ll get the boys some coffee,” Rose said as she headed toward the kitchen. “Then we can all sit down and find out what the ruckus was about.”
