Her Royal Bed by Laura Wright Read Free Book Online Page A

And yet, she felt as though she was suffering the worst hangover of her life.
    Was it possible to get drunk on confusion and disappointment?
    Jane rolled to her back and faced the morning sun that slammed into her bedroom with ferocious intensity. Much like a spotlight, she mused glumly. She had come to Texas in hopes of redefining her future, but eleven days ago a major roadblock had been thrust out in front of her in the glorious shape of a six-foot-three cowboy. The truth of it was, she was still intrigued by him, attracted to him. She still liked him—a lot—despite the feud between him and her brother. But if she pursued her desires, regardless of what she’d heard and seen last night, would both Bobby and her brother reject her?
    She closed her eyes and sighed. At this point, she realized dolefully, she couldn’t decide whose rejection would pain her the most.
    A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she unfolded the covers and pushed her tired self out of bed as she called, “Come in.”
    Sakir and Rita’s housekeeper, a very serious-looking woman in her mid-fifties entered the room, too perfectly starched and coifed for 8:00 a.m. She inclined her head. “Good morning, Miss Al-Nayhal.”
    Jane smiled at the older woman as she reached for her robe. “Good morning, Marian. Would you please call me Jane?”
    â€œHis Highness wouldn’t like that.”
    Jane pulled the belt of her white robe with a little too much force. “We don’t have to tell him.”
    The woman frowned deeply, and ignored Jane’s comment. “You have a phone call, Miss.”
    Jane glanced over her shoulder, her gaze settling on the nightstand where she expected to see a telephone. But oddly, there wasn’t one. She hadn’t noticed this before, and thought it strange in an enormous house like this that guest rooms weren’t equipped with phones.
    Seeming to read her thoughts, Marian simply said, “Mrs. Al-Nayhal hasn’t had time to install telephones in every room.”
    â€œOf course not,” said Jane, feeling sheepish, her toessinking into the thick cream carpeting. “With the new baby and all.”
    Marian neither agreed nor disagreed with this. Instead she thrust the cordless phone at Jane, who took it from her with another quick, “Thank you.”
    After a pert nod, the older woman turned on her perfectly polished black shoes and left the room.
    Wondering if whoever was calling her still remained on the line after all of that nonsense, Jane cradled the phone to her ear and said hopefully, “Hello?”
    â€œWell, that was one helluva party last night, wasn’t it?”
    Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she actually felt herself beam with pleasure and relief. The rough timbre of his voice, edged with that slow charm made her smile, made her recall their first night together. She was surprised by the intense reaction, albeit a little worried about this undeniable need she had to hear his voice again.
    â€œOne helluva party?” she repeated with a trace of sarcasm. “I suppose. If you like a little conflict with your barbecue.”
    His chuckle lacked real mirth. “Yeah, well, we took things too far.”
    â€œYou and Sakir, you mean?”
    He paused, then sighed. “It’s all water under the bridge now.”
    â€œIs it?” she asked in a small voice. The way Bobby had glared at Sakir last night suggested the opposite.
    â€œIt has to be. We both have to get over all this past BS.” She could practically hear him shrug. “Well, I do anyway.”
    Not that she didn’t want him to feel this magnanimous spirit, but she couldn’t help wondering how, after such a display of hatred last night, he could make such a turnaround. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
    â€œThis feud is getting in the way of something real important.”
    â€œWhat’s