Desert Rogues Part 2 (48 page)

“It's my life, Doyle. You can't protect me forever. And while we're on the subject, let me point out at least I took a chance. When was the last time you got involved with any woman who wasn't a brainless nit? God forbid you meet a woman you can actually connect with on some level other than sex. But that would ruin it for you, wouldn't it? I don't know what you're running from or what you're afraid of, but I suggest you get yourself a little bit closer to normal before you start making accusations about me.”

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Want to bet?”

He glared at her, but she refused to back down. Doyle blinked first and turned away.

“Let me know if you change your mind about me beating him up,” he grumbled as he walked to the door.

“I will. And I appreciate that you worry about me, even though you don't have to.”

“You're my sister,” he said gruffly.

She smiled for the first time since learning about Tahira. “I love you, too.”

 

“This phase of the training involves teamwork,” Billie said two days later.

She stood at the front of the largest classroom in the main hangar. Several diagrams covered the dry-erase board behind her. She'd been lecturing for the better part of an hour.

No one looking at her would ever guess anything was wrong, but Jefri knew. She might sound confident and strong, but she hadn't once looked at him.

“The sky gets small pretty fast when four or five fighters are covering the same territory. While you can't predict what your enemy will do next, you should be able to sense what your team is going to do. That's why we're spending so much time on the topic. I want you to develop a sixth sense about your teammates' actions and strategies. I want each of you to be able to predict what the other will do.”

She continued talking, outlining how much time would be spent in simulations before they went out in jets.

“Crashing is so much simpler when we do it on a simulator,” she said with a grin.

The men laughed. Billie's gaze swept around the room. For a split second, it landed on him. He sensed her instant tension before she quickly turned away.

He felt her pain, and he ached in return. He had tried to speak with her, but she avoided him. For how long? When would she allow him to explain? And if she did, what was there to say? The problem of Tahira had yet to be solved.

“All right,” Billie said. “Let's go try all this theory on the simulators.”

The pilots rose and followed her out of the classroom. Jefri hung back, biding his time. Even if she avoided him during the day, she still came home to the palace in the evening.

She led the first pilots through the simulation of flying together in formation. In less than three minutes he heard the sound of an explosion followed by swearing.

Billie looked up from her seat at the master control console.

“You know, this whole flying thing means we can do more than go back and forth. We can also go up and down.”

The pilot who'd messed up stepped out of the simulator and grinned sheepishly. “I wasn't looking down.”

“Which explains why you crashed into the plane below yours. This is not a good thing. Okay, who's next?”

The team worked through the program until they had finished. Finally only Jefri was left.

He stepped toward the simulator. Billie pushed the buttons to set the controls, then stepped aside to let him enter. Before he took his seat, he glanced at her.

“How long do you plan to avoid me?” he asked, his voice low even though they were the last two people left in the simulation room.

“Indefinitely,” she said. “The computer will act as the other pilots. The program is simple—don't try to get fancy.”

He'd heard the lecture before. “I know what I'm doing.”

“Really?” She stared at him. “I'd have to say I don't agree with that statement.”

She moved back to the main controls. “Push the start button when you're ready.”

He settled himself into the seat and focused on the cockpit. The detailed simulation made it seem as if he were actually flying. After familiarizing himself with what was expected, he reached for the controls, then started the program.

He immediately found himself in the middle of an attack. There were three other planes with him and one of the enemy. One of the planes on his side signaled tone-lock.

Jefri instinctively banked left. The second the sensation of movement washed over him, he knew he'd made a mistake. He wasn't alone in the skies and—

The windshield cracked and the controls shuddered in a poor imitation of a crash.

Billie jumped out of her chair and raced over to the simulator.

“What the hell are you playing at?” she demanded in obvious fury. “How dare you fly so badly? That was barely ten seconds.”

He knew she was right. Unfortunately his attention was not on his job.

“This is damned expensive equipment and my time is valuable. If you're not willing to take this seriously, then get out of here and free up some time for someone who is.”

Fire flashed in her eyes. Her breath came quickly. Even in anger, she was beautiful and passionate. Need flooded him. Not just to have her with him in bed, but to simply talk and touch. There were so many things he hadn't been able to find out. They'd had too little time together.

“Well?” she asked. “Do you think this is a game?”

“Not at all.”

“You lasted less than ten seconds,” she pointed out again. “We both know you're better than that.”

“I am sorry,” he told her.

He meant for more than the simulation. She pressed her lips together.

“It doesn't matter.”

“Yes, it does,” he said. He reached for her hand.

She pulled back. “Don't do that. You're engaged.”

“Not officially.”

“It's official enough for me. Besides, there's no way you could want someone like Tahira and someone like me. We couldn't be more different.”

“Who said I wanted Tahira?”

She tucked her hands behind her back. “You asked for someone like her.”

“Maybe I made a mistake.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Hope, he wondered. But then the emotion faded.

“You're going to have to live with that mistake,” she said. “It's a matter of honor.”

His mouth twisted. “You have been speaking with my father.”

“He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. You made your decision long before you met me. There's nothing either of us can do about it.”

“If I could change things, would you want me to?” he asked.

She stared at him for a long time. He tried to read her thoughts, but he couldn't. Her blue eyes gave nothing away. Heat flared between them, as did wanting. He refused to believe that was only on his side. Billie had to feel it, too.

“No,” she said at last, then turned to walk away.

B
illie felt as if she'd joined the cast of a popular but intense daytime drama. There was intrigue, royalty, steamy sex and a bright, young ingenue with a broken heart.

“So this is sweeps week,” she murmured as she walked toward her room in the palace. She could only hope that her life would calm down over time. She didn't think she could stand this emotional pace much longer.

Her suite door beckoned. After an afternoon of simulation training, ending with that heated discussion with Jefri, all she wanted was to be left alone for the rest of the day. No more outbursts from her brother, no meetings with the king, no sensual, smoldering close encounters with Jefri. Just peace and quiet.

She opened the suite door. “It's me,” she called to let Muffin know she was home.

As usual her small dog yapped in greeting, but she didn't bound over to see her. That was because Muffin was neatly curled up in Tahira's lap.

Billie stared at her uninvited guest. The young woman sat on the floor by the sofa. Several fashion magazines lay scattered around her. The one she held dropped from her hands as she quickly pushed Muffin off her, then scrambled to her feet.

“I'm so sorry,” Tahira said, panic filling her eyes. “I did not mean to intrude. I waited outside, but the maid said I should come in and then your dog was so friendly and these magazines…” Tahira ducked her head and twisted her fingers together in a picture of abject misery and contrition.

Billie dropped her purse on a table and kicked off her shoes. She felt both old and weary. If she'd been a drinker, this would have been the moment to indulge. Instead she found herself wishing for a really big bowl of chocolate chip ice cream.

“It's okay,” she said as she walked over to the club chair and sat down. Muffin instantly jumped on her lap.

“I intruded,” Tahira said, still not looking up.

“You sat on the floor and read a few magazines. That's not exactly the same as identity theft. Really. It's fine. Have a seat.”

The girl sank onto the sofa. “You are very kind.”

What Billie felt the most at the moment was crabby and out of sorts. Nothing in her world was right and most of that had been caused by the teenager sitting across from her. Hard to believe that someone so quiet and shy could be the reason, yet there it was.

Tahira's long dark hair hung nearly to her waist. The heavy weight overpowered her delicate features and petite body. Billie wasn't all that tall but next to the teenager, she was practically a giant.

Jefri's fiancée had dressed in another shapeless, ugly dress. Obviously princess preparation with the nuns hadn't included classes on being a snappy dresser. Her gaze drifted down to the magazines scattered on the floor. They were all about clothes and makeup and relationships. Not exactly favorites in diplomatic circles. Had Tahira even seen a fashion magazine before?

“What did you think of those?” Billie asked, pointing at one glossy cover.

Tahira glanced at her and smiled. “They're wonderful!” she breathed. “The clothes are so amazing and the women…I could never look like that.”

“Most of us couldn't,” Billie said with a laugh. “We shouldn't even try. But it's fun to get ideas about clothes and that sort of thing.”

Tahira fingered her moss-green dress. “I have no fashionable clothes. Not yet. At the school we dressed modestly. The sisters didn't approve of anything else.”

“You're not at the school anymore.”

“I know.” Tahira sighed. “This palace is so different from what I grew up with. There are so many men.”

“I guess they weren't allowed at the school?”

“Not at all.” Tahira looked shocked at the idea. “There were priests, of course. And one of the doctors was a man, but he was very old. I met the king a few times. He was kind enough to visit me every year or so.”

Billie found it difficult to imagine such a life. “What about trips? Didn't you go anywhere on vacation?”

“No.” The girl shook her head. “We traveled a little on the island, but only in groups and never in the tourist season.”

Sounded like prison to her, Billie thought.

She put Muffin on the floor, then collected the magazines. “I've read all of these,” she said, thrusting the stack at Tahira. “You may take them if you'd like.”

“Really?” Tahira's eyes brightened. “You are very kind.”

Less than you might think. Billie shrugged as she resumed her seat. “It's no big deal.”

The teenager hugged the magazines close. “You fly jets.”

Billie laughed. “Are you asking or telling?”

“Both, I suppose. Prince Jefri mentioned it. He said you are very talented. Your work, it sounds exciting and dangerous.”

“It's all I know.”

“I'm afraid to fly,” Tahira said in a small voice. “The plane goes so quickly and then the ground is far away. It doesn't seem right.”

“It gets easier with practice.”

The girl scooted to the edge of her seat. “It's not just flying,” she admitted softly. “Many things frighten me. Prince Jefri, for one. He is so tall and commanding. When he speaks I think about running and hiding behind the sofa.”

Billie resisted the urge to run screaming from the room. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having. Certainly not with Jefri's fiancée. But it seemed as if the girl had no one else to help her.

“There's no need to be frightened of the man you're going to marry,” Billie said with a smile. “He's not that scary. Actually, he's very nice and kind.”

Tahira's mouth thinned. “I never know what to say when I'm with him. Most of the time I don't say anything. He's nothing like the sisters.”

Billie grinned. “I would have to agree with that. But it's a good thing.”

“Maybe.” She glanced around as if making sure they were alone. “I don't think he likes me very much.”

Billie bit back a groan. This wasn't fair. Why her? There were other women in the palace. Cleo, Prince Sadik's wife. Or secretaries and female staff.

“You barely know him and he barely knows you,” Billie said, trying to be reasonable. “You need to spend more time together to figure out if you like each other.”

Tahira looked doubtful. “I thought I would know. I thought when I finally met Prince Jefri, my heart would beat faster and my knees would get weak.”

Billie stared at the girl. “What exactly do you know about weak knees?”

Tahira ducked her head. “Some of the girls had families. They went home for holidays and when they came back they brought books for the rest of us. You know, stories about falling in love.” She glanced up and bit her lower lip. “Do you think it was wrong of me to read them?”

“Of course not.”

“I wasn't sure and there was no one to ask. So when I met Prince Jefri I thought…” Her voice trailed off. “Perhaps the feelings will come later. As you say, we don't know each other.”

Billie tried to be fair. Tahira seemed like a sweet enough girl, but she was no match for a stubborn, arrogant, wonderful man like Jefri. He was going to run her in circles. Not that this was her problem.

“Give it time,” she said.

“I will,” Tahira promised. “I'm doing all I can to make the prince proud of me. I've been keeping up on current events so that when I attend the state dinner at the end of the week I can speak without embarrassing him.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The state dinner, huh? Billie had been invited and until Tahira's arrival, she'd been looking forward to attending, but now she wasn't so sure.

“I don't know what to wear,” Tahira said, then swallowed. “My clothes from the convent, well, the sisters picked them out.”

Ah, so that explained the problem.

“Now you can pick out your own,” she said, going for cheerful and wondering how she could politely ask Tahira to leave. Billie felt the beginnings of a headache at her temples.

“I know nothing of fashion or even what is appropriate. I know three languages and the correct way to address every head of state, but not what to wear at a formal dinner. If I'm wrong, Prince Jefri will be disappointed.”

Billie held in a groan. “I'm sure there are some stores in town that…”

“Yes,” Tahira said eagerly. “The prince has told me to go shopping. I have an appointment tomorrow morning. I was hoping you would come with me.”

Billie wanted to say no. Even though she loved shopping nearly as much as flying there was no way she wanted to spend an entire day with Jefri's fiancée. Even if the girl was clueless.

“I'm not an expert on dressing for the palace,” she said, trying not to feel as if she were kicking a puppy.

“But you are so beautiful. And you have such style.”

Billie knew there was going to be trouble if Tahira thought
she
was stylish. “I think I like sparkle a little bit more than the average princess,” she said.

“No. Your clothes are perfect.”

Billie knew she was being punished. Probably for giving in to Jefri in the first place. Maybe it would be easier to surrender to the inevitable and get it over with.

“Why not,” she said with a sigh. “I'll go shopping with you.”

Tahira's whole face lit up. “Thank you so much. You are very kind. Is ten in the morning acceptable?”

“Sure.”

She would have to let Doyle know he was on his own for classes. Her brother would complain, but so what? Besides, a day spent with Tahira meant a day not spent with Jefri and right now she could use a break from his particular brand of temptation.

 

Billie decided to bring Muffin along for moral support. Plus her dog always loved a good shopping spree. Promptly at ten the following morning, she made her way to the main entrance of the palace where she found Tahira waiting.

The girl had traded in her ugly green dress for an ugly brown one. Her long hair had been pulled back in a plain braid and not a dot of makeup touched her skin. Billie itched to have a go at her thick eyebrows. Some plucking, a bit of eye shadow and lip gloss and the girl would be a hundred percent more attractive. She was less sure about the hair. Of course it needed cutting but in what kind of style and how long should—

“Good. You are here.”

The words, spoken in a low, male voice, made her insides quiver and her thighs tremble. Still clutching Muffin, Billie turned and saw Jefri walking toward them.

She glanced back at Tahira. “Your fiancé is coming with us?”

“Yes. When I told Prince Jefri about our outing, he wanted to join us.”

Her dark eyes pleaded with Billie. Whether for Billie not to leave her alone with him or for Billie not to be angry, she wasn't sure.

Jefri stopped in front of her. “I will accompany you to the boutique.”

Billie did her best not to notice how good he looked in his tailored suit and how much she wanted to step into his embrace.

“It's shopping,” she said, determined to ignore her reaction. “Men hate to shop.”

“I will make an exception this one time,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face. “Tahira requires a complete new wardrobe, including formal wear. I will speak with the person in charge and make sure you are both well taken care of.”

Of course he would, she thought as he put a hand on the small of her back and led her out of the palace. He would take charge because that is what he did—instinctively, she would bet. He would spend the day with them, always
there
so that she would be unable to think or function.

Tahira trailed after them, obviously unaware of the undercurrents swirling around. When they reached the limo, she went first, stepping in and settling on the side bench rather than the rear one. Billie followed, with Jefri sliding in after her. Which meant the two of them were sitting next to each other.

“I love your little dog,” Tahira said as the car pulled away from the palace. She leaned forward and patted Muffin. “The cats are nice, too. There are so many.”

“Billie is not fond of the cats,” Jefri said. “They made her nervous.”

Tahira looked concerned. “They won't hurt you,” she said earnestly. “Most of them are very gentle. I like how they purr when I pet them.”

As the girl spoke, she looked at Billie and Muffin, but never at Jefri. Apparently she hadn't been kidding when she'd said she was afraid of him. Billie wanted to tell her not to sweat it—that while he might act all high and mighty, Jefri was simply a guy. Okay, a guy with a lot of money and an incredible history, but still, he was human.

She thought about how they'd argued and laughed and how he'd never seemed to mind that she was the better pilot. If only, she thought, then shook her head. There would be no “if onlys.” Not in this situation.