Kathleen Creighton - Virgin Seduction

"Well," said Cade with gravel in his throat, "that's the question, isn't it?"

There was another, longer pause, while he swallowed hard a couple of times. Then Elena's voice came softly. "You can't stay closed off from your emotions forever, Cade."

He righted his chair with an angry thump. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Come on-you've been shut down ever since your mom died-and…what my father did to you."

"That's ridiculous. I have emotions."

"I'll bet you do. But you sure don't like to show 'em."

"How does that make me different from almost any other man you know?"

"It doesn't," she admitted, "but most men trust somebody enough to let their feelings show. I know Hassan trusts me. Do you think because of what happened with your mom and my father, that you're afraid-"

"Cut the crap, Elena. That's just psychobabble bull-"

"Cade, can I ask you something?" Her voice was different, now. Hesitant…almost fearful. He waited, half-resentful, saying nothing, and after a moment she came out with it. "Do you think…has it ever crossed your mind, since all this has come out about my father…Rahman…about him killing my mother, and…all that…that he might have been the one responsible for your mom's accident?"

He couldn't answer, just stared at the Houston haze through his office window. His pulse tapped nervously at his belt buckle.

"It must have occurred to you, Cade. You were supposed to be in that car, too, remember? If you hadn't talked your mom into dropping you at your friend David's house on the way home…"

"What do you want me to say," he said harshly. "What's the point? The man's dead. Can't very well kill him twice."

"No," said Elena quietly, "but you can sure as hell kill your marriage if you don't find a way to come to terms with this. You have to find a way to trust, Cade. Trust yourself to love. Trust somebody to love you and not let you down."

"Psychobabble crap," Cade muttered.

"Maybe it is." He heard tears in her voice. "Maybe I just want everybody to be as happy as I am." And damned if she didn't hang up on him.

* * *

That evening, Cade was in the stable checking out a new foal with Rueben when Betsy came down with the bottle she'd prepared. She handed it to her husband, then stood back, planted her hands on her hips and glared at Cade.

"Okay," she said, "when are you leaving?"

"What?" He had his arms full of a balky colt just then, and couldn't look at her. "Leaving for where?" "Tamir-whatever the name of that place is. When are you gonna go get Leila and bring her back?" Cade snorted. After his conversation with Elena, he was feeling about as cooperative as that foal. "I guess she'll come back when she's ready."

"Uh-uh," said Betsy, "you got to go get her." She glared at him and folded her arms across the shelf of her bosom. "How else is she gonna know you want her to come back? You ever tell her?" She gave a snort of monumental exasperation. "I bet you never even told her you love her, did you?"

He let go of the foal, who was finally beginning to get the idea there was something good for him in that rubber nipple. "She never told me that."

Betsy threw up her arms. "She's a woman. You expect her to tell you first?" Cade didn't say anything. He looked over at the foal, who was nursing greedily, now. "I packed your suitcase already," Betsy said.

Cade looked at Rueben, who lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I think you better go get your wife," was all he said.

* * *

Alima was having breakfast with Leila on the east terrace, though she had eaten only a few bits of fruit and some tea. It was difficult to swallow when her throat was aching so…when her mother's heart was breaking for her youngest child.

"I do not understand why she will not listen," Leila was saying stormily. "Nadia thinks she knows so much, because she is older, but she does not. She does not know what it is like to be in a marriage without love. She does not know what she is doing!"

"But," Alima gently reminded her, "that must be Nadia's decision, must it not? Your sister must make her own choice." She paused, then placed her hand over Leila's, which was restlessly tearing an orange peel into tiny pieces. "My dearest one, why does it trouble you so much? What is really bothering you? Are you…so very unhappy in America?"

Leila's hands jerked, then went still. Then, all in a rush, she raised them to cover her face…and a sob. "Oh, Mummy, I do not know what I should do. I believe Cade is a good man-I do. And I want to be a good wife to him. But I have been so lonely-and I do not understand him at all." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I do not even know whether or not he loves me."

"Leila," her mother began, fighting anger against the man who had made her precious one so unhappy, "you must not give up on your marriage…" A movement caught her eye, drew it across the tiled terrace to where a tall figure stood framed in the arched portal that led to the gardens. A little breeze blew in through the portal, bringing with it the scent of roses.

Alima took in a breath of it…and smiled. "My daughter," she said softly, without taking her eyes from that tall figure, "if you truly love your husband, you must never give up on him. Tell me the truth… do you love this man, Cade Gallagher?"

Cade stopped breathing while he waited for her answer. It seemed an age…an eternity before Leila slowly drew her hands away from her face, revealing its radiance…and desolation.

"Oh, yes…I do. I love him. I did not believe it was possible to love someone so much. So much… sometimes… it hurts… inside." She placed her fist over her heart, and he felt himself moving toward her, though he had no sense of his feet touching the ground. "And then I am so frightened…and I do not know how I will survive it if I am never to see him-"

Leila felt a hand touch her shoulder, a hand that shook.

"Why would you think you'd never see me again?" said a voice-a voice as ragged and torn as the bits of orange peel on the table in front of her.

She stared at the bits of orange, not moving…not breathing. Her mother smiled at her, lifted her eyes and murmured an Arabic blessing, then rose from her chair and quietly left her.

I am a princess… I am a princess… Shaking like a blossom in the rain and clinging to the shards of her pride, Leila drew herself together. "What," she demanded breathlessly, lifting her head but without turning around, "are you doing here?"

Cade's heart gave an odd little quiver…of laughter, of tenderness and pride. Well, hell, she's a princess, he reminded himself. He tightened his hand on her shoulder, and felt his voice grow deeper and even more gruff. "Thought you might have forgotten where you live. Or that there's a lonesome little filly who needs you. Thought I'd better come and bring you home."

"Why?" she asked, hurling her question at him in defiance, like an obstinate child.

Bravely, Leila lifted her chin still higher and looked into his face. Did he hear me? she wondered, quaking inside. Oh, he must have heard me say I love him. She had never felt so vulnerable, not even lying naked in his arms. Oh, please, let him say it to we now. If he does not, I do not know what-

"What do you mean, why?" Fear made Cade's voice harsh. He'd never felt more vulnerable in his life, not even when his mother died. How could he expose himself so? He hadn't the courage…

She's a woman. You expect her to tell you first? And all at once he felt himself relax. His heart grew warm…and light filled all his insides.

"Why do you think?" Cade's voice had lost its roughness. It was tender…tender as a caress. "Because…1 love you, Princess." She caught her breath, but he wasn't finished. "I love you!" he said. And again: "I love you!"

Then she saw it. At last, the smile she had carried so long in her memory…the smile she had longed for… the smile that lit his face and eyes with purest joy.

And she knew that it was true.

Sheik Ahmed Kamal sat at the head table in the Great Courtyard of the Royal Palace of Tamir and beamed upon the assembly that had gathered to celebrate the Walima of his youngest daughter and her husband, Cade Gallagher. Sated with good food and good wine, he felt humble, and richly blessed.

Had any monarch ever had more reason to sing the praises of Allah? First his sons and now a daughter well and happily wed, and soon there would be yet another wedding, this one as satisfactory as he would have wished. His oldest daughter was to marry his closest advisor-what could be more desirable?

Relations with his neighbors the Montebellans were on solid footing at last, and with the addition of oil-rich Texans to the family, Tamir's economic future had never been brighter. And next spring, if things went as he hoped, perhaps there would be more grandchildren to keep Alima happy…and, he must be honest, himself, as well.

Yes…life is indeed good, thought the old sheik.

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