"Hey," said Elena with a placid shrug, "it worked for me."

"You mean, you left-"

She shook her head, and her smile was a little crooked, now. "Uh-uh. Hassan left me. I'd refused to marry him-I guess I was afraid I didn't love him enough… then. So off he went, back to Tamir. It took me...oh, maybe a day to figure out I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. So I went after him. The rest," she added with a sound like a cat's purr, "is history."

"But," Leila mumbled, "what if I go to Tamir, and Cade does not come for me?" Her heart was hammering. If Cade did not come for her, she knew she could not possibly come back here, not to live as she had been living for these past weeks. And yet, the thought of never seeing Cade again…never feeling his arms around her…frightened her so she could scarcely breathe.

"Oh, he'll come," said Elena. "Trust me."

"But…I cannot possibly ask him-"

"Hey-don't worry about it. You just leave this to me."


* * *

Cade leaned against the corral fence and watched them come toward him…two women, one he'd known nearly all his life, as familiar as the grass around him, the other as alien and exotic as an orchid blooming in the desert. Both beautiful, but for one he felt nothing but the deep, abiding affection of a brother for his sister, while the other made his pulses thunder like a buffalo stampede. Why did it have to be the wrong one? He felt betrayed, somehow. Doublecrossed by his own heart.

"Hey, guys," Elena called out when they were near enough. And Cade watched with a pang of envy as she came with the ease of certainty to kiss her husband, while his own wife hesitated and hung back, unsure what she should do. "Catching up on the latest gossip?" Elena teased, an arm around her husband's waist.

Cade squinted at her and shook his head, while Hassan said loftily, "Men do not gossip."

"Right." Elena laughed. "No, I mean, from Tamir. Hey, what did you guys think about Nadia?"

"Nadia?" Leila was alert and tense. "What about my sister? I spoke to her only last week. Is she all right?"

"She's getting married," said Elena. "Can you believe it? The fourth wedding in the Kamal family this year." She nudged Hassan. "I guess that just leaves Samira, huh?" Then she looked with concern at Leila, who had her fingertips pressed to her mouth and a stricken look on her face. "What, aren't you happy about it?"

Leila cleared her throat and said faintly, "Then…she will marry Butrus after all?" Elena nodded, and Hassan said gruffly, "With our father's blessing."

"But," said Leila, "she does not love him. She told me so." Her cheeks were pink, and Cade could see that, at her sides, her hands were clenched into fists. "She cannot do this-she must not. Oh, if only I could talk to her!" Her voice was tight with distress.

"Why don't you?" Elena asked, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"I have. But on the phone it is not-"

"No, I mean, go to Tamir." Elena looked at Cade.

A great stillness seemed to fold itself around him. Leila seemed not to be breathing. He looked at her and she averted her face quickly, but not quickly enough. Even with her sunglasses she couldn't hide the light of hope, a flash of joy so keen and pure, he was sure he'd felt it pierce his heart.

"Sure, why not?" Elena went on, enthusiastic…oblivious. "Go for a visit. It's not like you can't afford to send her, Cade. Leila should be with her sister at a time like this."

Cade cleared his throat. His heart lay in his stomach like a dead weight-and how well he remembered that feeling. "What about it?" he asked Leila, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "Would you like to go to Tamir? Visit your folks?"

She lifted her head and looked at him a long, suspenseful time, while he stared at his own reflection in her glasses and wished with all his heart that he could see her eyes. Except for the briefest tremble in her mouth, then a tightening, her face was utterly still. For the first time in his memory, he couldn't read her emotions there.

Then she drew a lifting breath and smiled. "Yes-oh, yes," she said softly. "I would like it very much."

"Well, there you go," said Elena with a shrug. And she and Hassan exchanged a secret look.

"Well, okay," Cade said, squinting as he met the radiance of his wife's smile, "I guess you're going to Tamir. How soon do you want to leave?"

"Is…tomorrow too soon?" Oddly she sounded as if she was one good breath away from bursting into tears.

"Tomorrow it is." And on a hot and sunny May day in Texas, Cade felt cold clear through.

That evening, Cade went into the bedroom where Leila was packing her suitcases. "All set," he said on an exhalation. "Plane leaves here at two. You're gonna have a little bit of a stopover in Atlanta, but not too bad. You're nonstop to Athens…arrive there Monday morning, local time. Then it's just a short hop from there to Tamir."

"Thank you." Her voice sounded muffled as she watched her hands…watched them methodically smoothing filmy cloth. Her hair had fallen over her shoulder, hiding her face from him. He resisted the urge to pull it out of the way.

"Need any help?"

"Thank you, but no. I am nearly finished." She straightened and tossed her hair back over her shoulder, though she still didn't look at him. A frown pleated her forehead. "I do not think I will need to take much with me…so many of my clothes are still in Tamir."

Maybe he should have found reassurance in that. Instead, he felt a sudden surge of anger that was mysteriously mixed with grief. Childishly, he wanted to shout at her. What kind of a woman are you? How can you go away and leave me like this? Selfishly, he wanted to plead with her. Please don't go. Forget your sister-I need you!


* * *

What he couldn't understand was why. It had been his idea to send her back to Tamir from the first. So why this gnawing fear that, once she was there with her own family, she wasn't ever going to come back to Texas?

She was trying to fold over the top of the suitcase to zip it closed. "Here-let me get that," he said roughly, needing some activity, an outlet for his emotions. And reaching heedlessly across her, brushed her breast with his arm.

He went absolutely, deathly still. Except for the lifting of each breath, so did she. Then, slowly, slowly, he turned toward her. She turned, too, and tipped back her head to look at him. It went on so long, that look, and in such tension and stillness…it reminded him of something.

Then it came to him-that evening on the terrace. And the memory was so vivid, so immediate, it seemed to him he could hear the pounding of the surf on the rocks below the cliff…until he realized it was only the beating of his own heart. He remembered the way she'd looked at him so intently, and what she'd said to him next…

"Do you want to kiss me?"

He didn't know he'd said it aloud until he saw the flash of recognition in her eyes, and heard her say in a small, tentative voice, in a much more delightful French accent than his had ever been, "Kees you? Oh, oui, Monsieur…"

He didn't even realize, then, the significance of that moment, that mutual, instant understanding, the acknowledgment of a history of shared intimacy, the first of countless moments like it that would form a bond to last a lifetime. He only knew that he was terrified. My God, he thought as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers, I can't let her go! I love her.

How can I leave him? Leila thought as she opened herself to her husband's embrace. I love him so...If only, she thought, he would ask me to stay…tell me not to go. Then I would know he loves me…

But he didn't say anything at all, though his kiss was so deep and poignant it made her ache in every part of her being, and it would have been easy to believe he meant it as love. Leila was not so naive.

No, Elena was right. She must go to Tamir. If her husband loved her, he would come for her and bring her home. And if he does not?Her heart trembled, then plummeted inside her, and she clung to him in desperate, unreasoning fear. He must come for me. He must.

But how to ensure that, and yet preserve her pride? Trying without words to let him know the love and longing that was inside her, she gave him her body with a kind of desperate tenderness, worshipped his with such unreserved devotion…and hoped that he would somehow hear and know what was in her heart.

Dazed by the intensity of her lovemaking, shaken by the intensity of his feelings for her, Cade buried his face in the fragrant fall of his wife's hair. For the last time? He held her closer and shuddered with fear.


* * *

On Monday afternoon, Cade called Elena from his office in Houston. "Well," he said, "I hope you're satisfied."

She responded with a little trill of laughter. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"Leila's gone," he said morosely. "She called a little while ago to tell me she made it home okay. Sounded happy to be back with her folks." He paused, took a deep breath and tried to make it sound as if he didn't care. "I don't think she wants to come back… any time soon." He added the last part only to keep from sounding too melodramatic.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you, Cade." She made an exasperated sound. And after a pause, "What do you intend to do about it?"

He snorted right back at her. "What can I do? I sure as hell can't seem to make her happy here."

"Oh, for-that is just so like a man!" There was a pause, and then, bluntly, "Cade, do you love her?" And before he could answer, "Don't you know, it doesn't take any more than that to make a woman happy? If she loves you…"