By The Sheikh's Command. Debbi Rawlins

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eyes…

      She entered through the kitchen and then detoured down the hall to her room and shut the door. She still wanted to tackle the auction paperwork this afternoon but something more pressing required her attention. The mirror over her dresser was smudged, so she wiped it with her sleeve and stared up close at her reflection.

      All that stared back were plain ol’ garden-variety blue eyes. A hint of green was the only thing possibly interesting about them. Which was a stretch. Especially considering that her crooked nose drew attention away from anything that might be pleasant about her face.

      She peered closer. Maybe some makeup would help hide the flaw. Mascara was about all she could handle daily. Aunt Elaine didn’t believe in vanity and would have taken a switch to Bri if she ever “painted her face.” But Allie and Bri’s friend, Jessica Coleman Grayson, both wore makeup. That didn’t make them tramps.

      Sighing, Bri pulled her ponytail up and piled her hair high on top of her head, and then angled her face to get a look from either side. The style made her look slightly older, anything older than twenty-two was good.

      Maybe she’d experiment later, after dinner.

      Shoot! She’d forgotten about dinner. Rafe had distracted her. He was pretty darn good at doing that, all right. It would serve him right if Allie had ordered pizza for them…although that was doubtful. Allie wasn’t the type to worry about anything else on the eve of her honeymoon.

      Not that Bri blamed her. If she were so lucky as to find a husband who was as crazy about her as Cord was about Allie, Bri wouldn’t think about much else, either. And frankly, Bri was glad Allie wasn’t the domestic type or terribly organized, either. Wouldn’t that create a need for Bri to stick around?

      Even when their housekeeper returned, there were still household decisions to be made, the kind that Bri handled.

      Sighing, she let go of her hair and the ponytail fell like a heavy rope down her back. She’d thought about cutting it, but a shorter style would require too much care. With working around the ranch, a ponytail was much easier to manage.

      Assuming she’d be around much longer.

      Angry with herself, she chased the hurtful thought away. Hadn’t she just reasoned that she had a necessary place here? Of course, for the past week her thoughts had been bouncing back and forth like a rubber ball.

      One minute she convinced herself that it would be best if she left the ranch and the newlyweds to their privacy, and in the next breath she decided Cord’s marriage didn’t mean she had to leave. She had a viable job at the ranch. Cord didn’t like doing the bookkeeping and she did. She was darn good at it, too. The grain costs had gone down since she’d taken over and found another supplier—someone who wasn’t related to the acting foreman while Manny had been away.

      The best thing Aunt Elaine had ever done was encourage, no, demand, that Bri get an education. Her maiden aunt had been vocal about Bri learning to take care of herself, and not end up like her mother, Elaine’s sister, who’d gotten knocked up and then abandoned her daughter to the charity of her family.

      At first Bri had silently rebelled, but then she discovered that school not only got her out of the house and away from Aunt Elaine’s harping, but it was fun and empowering. She’d done extremely well, making the honor roll all through high school, and then the dean’s list her second and third year of college. She’d probably have made it her senior year, too, had she finished. But the lure of meeting her brother had eclipsed her need for a degree.

      Her stomach growled, reminding her she really did have to think about rustling something up for dinner. Maybe sandwiches. If His Royal Highness didn’t like that option, he could go to the diner in Bridle. Give the townspeople something to gawk at.

      Bri smiled at the thought as she strolled into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Nothing leaped out at her. They’d finished the leftovers last night and she hadn’t taken anything out of the freezer. Even the deli meat looked unappealing.

      Pizza didn’t sound so bad right about now. Although, since Allie had discovered the spicy pies for the first time last week, they’d had pepperoni, peppers and extra cheese four times for dinner.

      She considered taking a drive into Bridle to pick one up, when she saw a folded piece of paper stuck to the side of the refrigerator under a cow magnet. Curious, she unfolded it. Cord usually left notes for her on her desk.

      The message was from Allie. She had ordered their dinner to be delivered from the diner at seven. Rafe had been right. Bri frowned. The diner didn’t deliver. Of course, Allie had a way of getting what she wanted. Bri needed to take lessons.

      Her gaze fell on the tiny postscript at the bottom from Cord. They had decided to stop in Dallas on the way back and would be home a day later than the planned ten days.

      No big deal. What was one day?

      She set the note aside, a wave of melancholy overtaking her. This was yet another change in the way she and Cord had settled into life on the ranch together. In the past, he had always kept her informed of his plans, even if it was only a trip to the bank. Now he had Allie.

      Bri hated the jealousy that gnawed at her, but it was there, and she would have to make peace with it. Ignoring it would only fuel needless resentment. Cord’s marriage posed no threat to her relationship with him. As he’d assured her so many times, they’d always be family.

      As far as Allie having taken charge of dinner tonight, that had been a nice gesture. Really. Bri didn’t have to worry about playing hostess to Rafe right off the bat. Allie had been thoughtful in eliminating that problem.

      Bri got a six-pack of cola out of the pantry and put it on the fridge. So why did she feel so glum? Now she had more time to work on the auction paperwork.

      She started for her office but her gaze fell on the newspaper left on the kitchen table. Ironically, it was open to the classifieds—the rental section.

      Was someone trying to tell her something?

      Chapter Two

      Rafe stopped at the wet bar in the living room and found the bottle of scotch his new brother-in-law had left him. He poured himself a glass. Neat. No ice. Just the way he liked it. The scotch was a rare pleasure he allowed himself only when he traveled abroad. In his own country he never drank liquor. He never did anything that could be deemed inappropriate. He had too much to lose.

      That’s what made the purpose of this trip to Texas so ironic. The fact that he would return to Munir without his errant sister as a result of his own negligence was more inappropriate than a dozen drinks.

      He downed half the glass of scotch, and then took the rest with him to the den where he could look out at the courtyard fountain. The house was quiet, although he knew Brianna was somewhere inside. From the stables he had watched her cross the lawn and enter the house less than an hour ago.

      She was an amazingly graceful creature. Tall and lithe and elegant even in faded jeans. A natural beauty who was inordinately reserved. In his experience, most women who possessed such perfection flaunted their attributes, expected special treatment. Although he had not had too many exchanges with her, Brianna seemed as quiet as a little mouse.

      She could have been born to royalty by the way she carried herself, but he knew better. Cord had

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