The Panther & the Pyramid (Khamsin Warriors of the Wind) by Bonnie Vanak Page B

I know how wonderful it is to finally have someone fill that void, and feel the peace of being loved and cherished for who you are."
    Vastly uncomfortable now, he shrugged. "I'm glad it happened for you. Truly, Badra." It just will never happen for me.
    Joining his wife, Kenneth slid an arm around her ample waist. His calm gaze met his brother's troubled one. "We want you to be happy, Graham. You don't deserve anything less. Can this woman make you happy?"
    "She pleased me enough the other night," he repeated. He remembered what Kenneth had said and tossed it back at him. "You said that she was my destiny. And you can't fight destiny. I'm marrying her. Can't you both just try to be happy for me?"
    Kenneth glanced at his wife. "Yes," he said. "We can."
    "Yes," Badra echoed softly. "Please bring her to tea. I want to make her feel welcome here. Very welcome."
    Graham managed a genuine smile as she disengaged from her husband and came to him. She kissed his cheek, her large belly bumping his hip.
    Kenneth gave him a solemn look. "If this is what you want, then I am happy for you. I just want a woman who's good enough. You deserve the best." He looked wistful. "I would have given anything to see you happy before this, but we can't go back, only forward. So let us know what you need and we'll be there for you."
    Struggling with his emotions, Graham nodded. After all these years of walking alone, he finally had a family who cared. He felt torn between wanting to grow closer, and his natural reserve. How much easier it would have been to simply remain in Egypt, masked by his indigo Khamsin garb, hiding from the world.
    When Kenneth swung Badra into his arms—despite her protests she could walk—Graham felt even lonelier. Murmuring excuses, he vanished into his apartments. There he dressed to go riding in the park.
    Slapping his riding crop against his thigh, he descended the polished staircase. Jasmine galloped across the hallway toward him. Her face broke into a beaming grin. A flurry of excited Arabic spilled from her.
    "Uncle Graham! Are you riding? Can I go with you? Please, please! I haven't ridden my horse in two days!"
    "English, Jasmine," he automatically corrected. "And hasn't your papa told you no riding without a groom? You're still not accomplished enough on sidesaddle."
    Her face fell. "Yes."
    "You'll get better in time," he encouraged.
    In Yorkshire, Kenneth had taught his adopted daughter to ride the Bedouin way. Jasmine had ridden astride until two weeks ago, when boys in the park had teased her about her odd riding style, calling her a heathen. Deeply upset, Jasmine had quietly asked to learn the English way to ride.
    Graham felt a tug of deep pity at her crestfallen expression. He gave an indulgent smile. "Go change into your riding habit, and I'll meet you at the stable," he promised.
    Trailed by Charles—the silent head groom Graham trusted most—he and his niece rode to Hyde Park. Graham controlled his Arabian stallion with his knees, while Jasmine sat on her pony, struggling with the sidesaddle position. As they approached the Row, he noticed her stiff posture. Graham nudged his mount to a halt and leaned forward in his saddle.
    "Listen to me, Jasmine—relax. Your horse takes cues from you. The more you feel comfortable, the more you are able to control your mount. Animals sense it when you are nervous. Bend your knees a bit and relax your posture."
    "My governess says I must sit straight as a board."
    "Have you ever seen a board ride a horse?" He winked. Jasmine giggled, and her shoulders relaxed.
    As they rode into the park, Graham turned a curious eye again on his niece. Like him, she was a loner. He asked her about making friends. Her woebegone expression turned his heart over.
    Glancing over her shoulder at the indifferent-looking Charles, she spoke in a hushed tone in Arabic. "Uncle Graham, I want to play with them, but they don't want to play with me. They say I'm too odd. Especially Tommy