The Cowboy & The Belly Dancer (Heartbeat) Page 4

  The air reverberated with the sound of flapping wings and the caw of birds.

  Within minutes, it was all over. There weren’t any more wasps in sight and the birds had taken flight, streaming in a dark ribbon against the blue sky as they arrowed toward the distant mountain peaks.

  Exhaling in relief, Nesrin smiled a secret smile. It wasn’t exactly the spell she’d hoped to cast, but the birds had certainly proved a successful strategy to protect Kevin and Parker. She would have to remember later just how she had accomplished such a feat.

  She almost laughed aloud at the stunned expressions on the faces of Parker and his friends. Perhaps there was some hope for her yet as a worthwhile genie.

  Amy came running out from the safety of the house as Parker asked, “Is everybody all right?” His hand rested protectively on Kevin’s shoulder.

  “They got me, Uncle Parker. Real bad.”

  “Yeah, I know, kid.” He glanced toward the corral. “We’re just darn lucky Lucifer and his mares didn’t escape. That would have made your crazy stunt pretty darn expensive.” It might have cost both the ranch and Parker’s guardianship of the kids. The financial edge he’d been treading led to a precipitous drop with a single misstep.

  Kevin bent his head in apology.

  “Tell me, boy, when you were with your folks, did you get into trouble a lot?”

  Looking sheepish, he said, “Mom called me the best trouble finder she’d ever met—except for you, Uncle Parker.”

  He quirked his lips into a knowing smile. “Guess it’s genetic then ‘cause your mom would have known.” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get those stings taken care of.”

  * * *

  “YOU HAVE BEEN VERY BRAVE not to cry,” Nesrin told Kevin as she daubed ointment on the stings that covered his back. His chin had wobbled any number of times, but still she wanted him to feel courageous.

  “Those darn wasps sure got mad,” he said. Looking glum, he was sitting on the closed toilet seat in the upstairs bathroom.

  “Perhaps you would be angry, too, if someone was knocking down your house with a stick.”

  “I suppose.” He frowned and scratched at one of the welts. “How come all those birds showed up at once? That was really weird.”

  “It is fortunate that such magical things can happen.”

  He looked skeptical. “Magic?”

  With her fingertips, she combed back his blond hair and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. She wished all of her spells would result in such clever solutions to nettlesome problems. “Go play quietly for a time so the ointment can do its work.”

  From his place in the bathroom doorway where he’d been watching the doctoring process, Parker said, “And see if you can stay out of trouble for a while.”

  “Can I use your computer?” Kevin asked.

  Parker raised his eyebrows. “You know about computers?”

  “Sure. My dad let me mess with his all the time. We were hooked up to a net that had math games and stuff. It was cool.”

  “Yeah? Well, okay, but don’t dump the hard disk. That’s got all my records on it.”

  “I won’t.” With a confident smile, Kevin slipped out the door and hurried from sight.

  “Thanks for playing nursemaid,” Parker said, turning to Nesrin.

  “I am pleased to be of help.”

  “I’d appreciate it though if you’d lay off with the magic business. I don’t want the kid confused.”

  Her shoulders fell with dejection. Even if her spells weren’t all they should be, the magic was real. She wished she could tell Parker she’d been the one to conjure up the flock of birds that had saved both him and the boy from additional stings. But, of course, he wouldn’t believe her.

  “As you wish,” she agreed, gesturing toward the seat Kevin had vacated. “Your turn now for the medicine.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “The stingers must be pulled and poison must be drawn by the ointment, or you may become ill.”

  “They only got me in a couple of places. No big deal.”

  She eyed him thoughtfully. “Is it possible a grown man has not as much bravery as a young boy and so refuses the medicine?”

  Her comment slammed right into the middle of Parker’s ego. It wasn’t a little medicine he was worried about. Or a few bothersome stings. Pure and simple, it was Nesrin who had him gritting his teeth against a different kind of pain.

  All the time she’d been putting the lotion on Kevin’s back, Parker had been watching her hands. Her slender fingers had moved with gentle ease over the boy’s shoulders and back, reminding him of rose petals drifting in a breeze. Or the softness of a spring rain misting the landscape. He wasn’t sure he could handle her touching him in the same way, yet he knew that was exactly what he wanted—and more.

  He wanted, he realized with some alarm, to sweep her off her feet with romance—to take her dancing and see candlelight reflected in her dark eyes. He wanted to ply her with flowers and jewels, seduce her. If he could, he’d even write poems that praised her soft lips and the sweet lyrical sound of her voice.

  But he couldn’t do any of that. He felt a fraud even thinking such nonsense. He was in no position to romance any woman.

  Figuring he was either a damn fool or a glutton for punishment, he shrugged out of his shirt and sat down on the closed lid of the stool, turning sideways so she could get to the welts on his back. As she moved closer he caught her scent—a subtle fragrance that a breeze would waft for miles over a dry desert to lure a traveler onward. A fascinating combination of heat and sweetness.

  Nesrin hesitated, feeling alternately hot and cold. She had never seen a partially clothed man before—certainly not one so close. Among her people, the men had always been robed in her presence, even her brothers.

  In spite of herself, she was fascinated by the breadth of Parker’s shoulders, the splendid differences in texture between his masculine flesh and her softer skin. As her fingers mapped the contours of his back, muscles rippled in exciting waves, setting up a matching response deep inside her.

  “Nesrin, what are you doing?”

  Nervousness, and an emotion she couldn’t quite identify, parched her throat. “You have several stings on your back.”

  “Yeah, well...let’s get on with it.”

  Working more quickly, she dabbed the salve on each ugly welt. How unfortunate the angry wasps had marred such masculine perfection.

  “You should try not to be upset with Kevin,” she said. Nor should she be quite so aware of how the bright overhead light shone on Parker’s hair, revealing a hundred different shades of gold and tawny brown among the strands. Earlier she had thought his hair a single sandy color, but she found the reality far more varied and exciting. “The boy did not mean to do harm.”

  “We’re just lucky the horses didn’t spook any worse than they did. If Lucifer had broken through the fence, we would have lost all the mares.”

  “I know he regrets his impulsiveness.” As she must resist her desire to touch her lips to the fine speckles of darker color scattered across Parker’s fair shoulders. Even that knowledge did not stop her from wondering how each small blemish might taste.

  She glanced up and was speared by Parker’s reflected gaze in the mirror. Something passed between them, as sharp as a sword but far more heated. It made her breath lock in her lungs. In an instant, she recalled rich green emeralds inlaid in elephant tusks, prized possessions of the wizard Rasheyd. They were there now in Parker’s eyes, sparking with a different kind of danger.

  “Enough!” He rose to his feet as if she had cut him.

  “But there are more—”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “The welt on your neck is quite swollen.”

  “I’ll take care of it myself.” He snatched the tube of salve from her hand and dabbed some on his neck. His throat moved like that of an agitated camel.

  “If I hurt you—”

  “It’s okay, Ne
srin. Leave it be.” Abruptly he tossed the tube of medicine onto the counter, whirled around and marched out the door.

  “You still have not had your morning meal,” she called after him.

  “Forget it. I’m not hungry.”

  By midafternoon, Nesrin had still not discerned why Parker had seemed so upset with her. Nor had he come to the kitchen to eat any meal, which troubled her greatly. He worked hard and needed nourishment to see him through the day.

  At the sound of a quick rap on the back door, Nesrin turned.

  “Howdy. Kin I come in?” asked the woman who had shoved open the door. She was tall and angular, with graying hair and a smile that was all teeth. “I reckon the boys were right. You’re about the purtiest little thing I’ve seen in a month of Sundays.”

  The heat of a blush swept up Nesrin’s cheeks.

  “Now don’t you go gettin’ flustered, honey. I came ridin’ by, and Rusty and the fellas told me all about you.” She extended her hand. Her grip was as strong as any man’s and her palm just as rough.

  “I’m Parker’s closest neighbor. Louanne Wagner’s my name. My spread’s right over the next hill, not more ‘n a couple miles from here.” She paused long enough to catch her breath and glance around the kitchen. “Surely is nice to have a woman in the neighborhood again. I miss having a chance for some girl talk now and then. Figured, you being new ‘n’ all, you could use a friend, too.”

  An irrepressible smile climbed Nesrin’s face. “I have not had a friend in a very long time.”

  “Well, you got one now, honey.”

  Nesrin had a thousand questions she wanted to ask and only another woman—a friend—would have the answers. But first she would ask Louanne to teach her how to prepare meals that would please Parker. Perhaps she could find some favor to offer in return.

  * * *

  THANK HEAVEN HIS LIBIDO was back under control.

  After spending several hours breaking mustangs, Parker decided it was safe to go back into the house. Every bone in his body felt as though it had been dislocated by the jarring of his butt against the saddle—and sometimes against the ground. He figured he wouldn’t even notice if ten thousand dancing girls went traipsing by.

  He opened the front door, stepped into the living room and realized he’d figured dead wrong.

  The eerie sound of wailing flutes and fluttering castanets thrummed from the stereo in lyrical quarter tones like music out of the Arabian Nights. Nesrin gyrated in rhythm to the quivering beat, dressed once again in the nearly transparent skirt she’d worn when he first saw her and the abbreviated top that left her midriff bare. She rippled stomach muscles Parker didn’t know existed; flexed them in a way that made him sweat.

  Her arms moved effortlessly, beckoning to any helpless man who might happen to pass by.

  Louanne danced right next to her, awkwardly trying to follow her movements, all bony arms and legs, a big grin on her face. After a quick glance at his neighbor, Parker riveted his attention solely on Nesrin. She heated his blood like sun on asphalt; she stirred his imagination with vibrant expectations. If there had been a thousand other dancers in the room, all of them gorgeous Las Vegas show girls, he still would have had eyes only for Nesrin.

  That revelation stunned Parker.

  This woman, who had mysteriously appeared in his life, had indeed cast some sort of a spell on him.

  “Howdy, Parker. Whata ya think?” Louanne gave an extra rotation with her hips.

  Parker stifled a smile. “I think you’re either going to need a chiropractor, or you’ll land husband number four if you carry on like that in public. Assuming you don’t get arrested first.”

  “Hot diggity! I got my eye on this fella down at the feed store.... ‘Course, he don’t seem real interested. Guess I’ll have to keep my eyes open for somebody else comin’ down the pike.” The music stopped and Louanne came to a halt, breathing hard. “Lord, this ol’ body don’t work like it used to.”

  Parker decided Nesrin’s body was a piece of art, precision made to draw a man’s eye and haunt his dreams. She was watching him warily, as though silently waiting for his approval. He wanted to applaud. Hell, he wanted to toss her over his shoulder, climb the stairs to his bedroom, and... But he wasn’t going to do any of that—not if he wanted to keep his sanity.

  “You two want to tell me what’s brought on this dancing business?” he asked.

  “This sweet little lady of yours,” Louanne said, “has agreed to trade me a few dancin’ lessons for some hints ‘bout cookin’. Figured I couldn’t pass up a deal like that.”

  For the first time, Parker caught a whiff from the kitchen—something rich and spicy and undoubtedly delicious.

  “We’re gonna work our way through chicken, beef and pork,” Louanne continued. “Started her off with that enchilada casserole you had at my place a couple of months ago.”

  “Not sheep brains?” Parker questioned.

  The older woman frowned, and he waved off her confusion at his wry remark.

  “I hope you do not mind,” Nesrin said, her voice as soft as the silken skirt she wore. “I only wished to please you, Parker.”

  Everything about Nesrin pleased him, and he could imagine she knew other ways to satisfy him beyond a dance or two—or one of Louanne’s casseroles. Simply the way she pressed her lips together to say his name gave him a jolt of pure sexual fantasy.

  “You can run the kitchen any way you want, Nesrin,” he said. “I’ve got to...to take a shower.” A cold one, he realized as he headed up the stairs. Or maybe he needed to reactivate the old icehouse out in back, though he doubted even that would cool down his libido below the boiling point as long as Nesrin was in his house.

  Nesrin frowned, troubled by Parker’s abrupt departure. She had hoped he might like her dancing.

  “Well now, looks to me like that young fella has got himself a bee up his arse.”

  “He was stung there?” Nesrin asked incredulously.

  “No, I don’t mean that, sweetie.” Louanne’s laugh was rough and full-bodied. “I mean he’s got a hankerin’ for you. But then, any red-blooded man who was still breathin’ would take an interest in a sweet little package like you. You’re some kinda pretty, you are.”

  Nesrin was quite sure she didn’t want Parker to “hanker” for her. That might lead to him wanting her to submit. And that would lead to her downfall because she wasn’t at all confident she could resist. She got the oddest feelings when he looked at her, his eyes growing dark with a strange hunger. It was as though he had the power to drain her will.

  She mustn’t let that happen. From inside the lamp she had heard angry voices the day before she arrived at Parker’s ranch. Though the words were muffled, she felt sure someone was upset the lamp had been packed in the crate. If that someone was Rasheyd...

  Fear gripped her insides, and she turned pleading eyes toward Louanne. “What must I do so that Parker won’t hanker for me?”

  “Why, honey, every woman in the county would like to be able to spark that boy’s interest. Not a one of ‘em have caught his eye in the couple of years he’s been here. Now you’re tellin’ me you’re the one who’s not interested?”

  “It would be very dangerous for me. There is a man...”

  “Your husband?”

  “Oh, no, I would never wish to be Rasheyd’s wife. He wanted me only for his harem.”

  Louanne snorted a disgusted sound. “Shucks, around here we only allow a fella to have one lady at a time, leastwise legally. I don’t reckon you’ve got anything to worry about. I figure Parker would run off any hombre who came around sniffing after you.”

  Nesrin had not considered that possibility. Parker had seemed very protective of the children. Perhaps he would also protect her. Certainly he was a powerful wizard himself, although he might not recognize his own potency. He might well be a match for Rasheyd.

  * * *

  PARKER REINED his personal mount, Magnum, back toward the main ranch. The stalli
on responded to his light touch, eager to compete for the attention of the mares that had recently taken up residence in his territory. Parker tried not to consider that he was fighting the same kind of urge.

  By gritting his teeth—and certain other parts of his anatomy—Parker had managed to get through a whole week since Nesrin’s arrival. Things were getting easier, he told himself. Certainly the daily visits from Louanne meant meals were getting better, even if the sound of exotic music drifting out of the house every afternoon had other than a calming effect on him. The beat plucked too close to the bone to be relaxing; images of Nesrin dancing struck too many erotic chords to allow him to forget the sight of her gyrating seductively in the middle of his living room.

  When he wasn’t breaking horses, Parker found himself heading for the far corners of his small empire in order to avoid confronting his own weakness. A single lithe woman shouldn’t have such an all-consuming hold on his imagination. It showed a serious lack of concentration on his part, a shortcoming he had every intention of overcoming.

  Other, odd things had been happening, too, since Nesrin and the kids had shown up.

  One evening he’d followed the excited sound of Amy’s giggles upstairs to her bedroom. It had looked to Parker as if the child were floating three feet above the bed on a billowing sheet. Just hanging there as though on top of a cloud. Very peculiar. Downright unbelievable.

  “Look, Uncle Parker,” Amy had cried. “A magic sheet just like a magic carpet!”

  Nesrin, who was in the room, gasped, “Oh, my...” And Amy had plopped back onto the bed with a happy squeal.

  Of course, Parker had assumed they’d only been playing and Amy had been bouncing on the bed. What he’d seen had been the fluttering of a sheet, a child playing. Nothing unusual about that.

  But then, another time, he’d walked into the kitchen only to be met by a dozen place settings of silverware flying in formation toward the dinner table and a harassed Nesrin trying to snag them back again. He’d simply turned around and gone outside again, deciding he’d been working too hard. Hallucinations could happen to anyone, he assured himself.