Rising Stars. Maisey Yates

my prayer.”

      The two women laughed, hugging each other, and for the rest of the afternoon, the family talked and giggled as Kasimir Xendzov’s well-trained servants served refreshments and drinks. Eduardo continued to remain out of the circle, out of the group, until he finally disappeared all afternoon with his assistants to work on the deal. His behavior bewildered Callie. Was he just trying to give her some space with her family? But didn’t he realize that he, too, was part of the family now?

      After a delicious dinner of couscous and lamb, Callie said good-night to her jet-lagged parents and sister as they turned in to their luxurious bedrooms. After giving Marisol a bottle, she tucked her into a crib next door to their own large bedroom on the other side of the riad from the rest of her family. For the first time all day, Callie was alone. She looked at the large bed, covered with dark blue pillows. Fading sunlight fell upon the blanket in a pattern from the carved lattice window. She touched the bed. The mattress felt soft.

      She heard a noise behind her. Jumping, she turned around.

      Eduardo stood in the doorway. His eyes were dark, his expression set, as if braced for bad news.

      “There you are,” she said, furrowing her brow. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you come talk to my family?”

      “I didn’t want to intrude.”

      Callie frowned, feeling puzzled by the strangeness of his tone. She shook her head. “But you’re part of our family now.”

      The door closed behind him as he came toward her in the bedroom. His voice was stilted. “Your family isn’t rich.”

      She drew back, confused at the turn in conversation. “No. Especially not these days. My parents’ farm has had a rough couple years….”

      He came closer, something strangely intense in his dark eyes. “But you all still love each other.”

      “Of course we do,” she said, bewildered. “Like you said—we’re family.”

      His jaw twitched as he rubbed his wrist. In the shadowy bedroom, she saw the flash of his platinum watch. “Growing up, I thought money made a family. That it made people actually love each other enough to stay.”

      Callie’s breath suddenly caught in her throat. “Money has nothing to do with it. Don’t you know that?”

      Eduardo gave her a tight smile.

      “I’m glad you spent time with your family today. I have work to do before I meet with Xendzov tomorrow. Get some rest.”

      As he turned away, Callie stared after him, shocked. It was the first night she could remember when he hadn’t wanted to accompany her to bed at night, to make love to her, to hold her until she slept.

      He stopped at the door. “We need to talk,” he said heavily. “Tomorrow. Then we’ll see.” He took a deep breath. “Afterward, I hope you will still …”

      His voice trailed off. For a long moment, he stared at her, his eyes glittering in the shadows. Then he turned away, closing the bedroom door between them.

      Callie was hardly able to sleep that night without him beside her. In the morning, she hurried down for breakfast, but he never appeared. She found out he’d left at dawn with his team of administrators and lawyers to work on the business deal with their invisible host, the mysterious Kasimir Xendzov. She thought it was strange, because Eduardo had seemed so determined to talk to her. About what?

      And then she knew.

      Was Eduardo finally going to tell her he loved her?

      Joy filled her, followed by certainty. What else could it be? She was filled with happiness, counting down the moments until she’d see him again. She spent an enjoyable morning with her baby and family, sharing breakfast in the courtyard garden, walking around the estate, swimming in the pool. After lunch, as her parents took an afternoon nap with their grandbaby, Callie and Sami decided to explore the souks of Marrakech.

      As the two sisters wandered the narrow, mazelike streets of the medina, Callie’s heart was light. They walked through the outdoor markets, investigating booth after booth of copper lanterns, terra-cotta pots, embroidered jellabas and coral beads. She constantly checked her new cell phone in her handbag, just to make sure Eduardo hadn’t called for her, but in the meantime, she was happy. Wearing a floppy pink hat, a billowy blouse and long skirt, with her wide-eyed sister at her side, Callie felt almost like a child again, when she and Sami went on “expeditions” across the wide fields and brooks of their family farm.

      She suddenly froze in the middle of the outdoor market. Feeling prickles on her neck, as if someone was watching her, she whirled around.

      But she only saw her bodyguard, Sergio Garcia, following at a discreet distance through the crowded medina. Eduardo never let her go anywhere without a bodyguard, and often more than one. Still, even as the afternoon passed and the hot Moroccan sun lowered to the west, the cold prickles on her neck didn’t go away.

      “So you really forgive me?” Sami asked softly.

      Kneeling as she looked through a selection of copper lanterns, Callie smiled up at her sister. “I forgave you long ago—the day I named my daughter.”

      Sami’s young face was dubious. “But if you forgave me, why didn’t you write back?”

      Callie straightened, frowning. “You wrote? When?”

      “Lots of times! I even sent flowers! But other than the day Marisol was born, when you called us, we never heard a word. Not me, not Brandon, not even Mom and Dad!”

      Callie gaped at her. “I wrote you letters every week! I sent hundreds of pictures!”

      “We never got anything.”

      A shiver of ice went down Callie’s spine. “Strange,” she said faintly then tried to push it away with a smile. “But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

      “We were worried about you,” Sami said softly, clawing back her hair. “I’m glad you at least called us from the hospital when Marisol was born. Brandon arrived two days later and was so upset. He made it sound as if you’d been, well—” she bit her lip “—kidnapped.”

      Callie looked at her. “Have you been spending a lot of time with Brandon?”

      Sami’s cheeks turned pink. “Yeah.”

      “You’re in love with him.” It was a statement, not a question.

      Sami stared at her then burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. “I’ve loved him for years.” She tried to smile. “All the time that he loved you.”

      Callie shook her head. “I keep telling people—Brandon and I are just friends!”

      Sami gave a hoarse laugh. “Man, you’re dumb. Just as dumb as he was.”

      “Was? Have you told Brandon how you feel?”

      “Not yet.” Sami looked away. “I’m scared. We’ve spent a lot of time together lately, ice skating, looking at the stars, running errands. Whatever.” She shivered beneath the fading afternoon sun of the Marrakech market. “Once, I almost thought he was going to kiss me. Then he turned away and started talking about you.”

      “He did?” Guilt went through Callie. “He must hate me.”

      “He hates Eduardo. Not you.”

      “Then why didn’t he ever write me?” Callie whispered.

      Sami looked at her as if she were crazy. “He did. I know he did. He showed me the letters.”

      The strange feeling went through Callie again, a dark cloud like a shadow over the sun. How was it possible that her family hadn’t gotten any of her letters? Or that Callie hadn’t gotten any of theirs?

      Pushing the thought away, she turned back