The Sheik's Secret. Judith McWilliams

       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.