glanced out of the window at the gathering dusk and his jaw hardened. He did not have time to stand here arguing. He thought again of his father, remembering the look of devastation on his face when he had broken the news of Faisal’s death. Kazim was a lifeline. He was possibly the only person who could lift the King from his despair. Nothing would prevent Zahir from taking the child home to the kingdom that he would one day rule.
‘My nephew belongs in Qubbah,’ he stated coldly as he crossed to the desk and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. He could feel Erin’s eyes on him, but he refused to look at her. He did not want to picture her with Faisal, did not want to admit to the corrosive jealousy that burned in his gut when he imagined them together. He was furious with himself that he could not banish the fantasy of making love to her so passionately that he drove all thoughts of his brother from her mind.
His unexpected desire for Erin was an inconvenience. Her legal status as Kazim’s mother was a much bigger problem. But there was a simple solution. She had sounded convincing when she’d stated that she loved the child, but everything had its price—even love.
‘We can deal with the situation in one of two ways,’ he informed her coolly. ‘The first is for me to gather the best lawyers I can find and fight you through the courts for custody of Kazim. The drawback is that any legal process takes time, and my father is eighty years old and desperate to meet his grandson as soon as possible. That is why I am prepared to offer you an extremely generous settlement in return for my brother’s son.’
Now he looked at her, watched her beautiful grey eyes cloud with confusion as she slowly walked forward and took the cheque he held out to her. Her fingers trembled as she glanced down at it, and the colour drained from her face.
‘I don’t understand,’ Erin said huskily. Her brain could not take in the number of noughts he had written after the figure, and she blinked to clear her vision. When she looked again she realised that she was not mistaken. Disbelief quickly gave way to disgust, and anger crashed through her, so violent in its intensity that that her whole body shook. ‘Are you trying to buy Kazim?’
‘I am offering you a chance to resume your life without the responsibilities of caring for a child who is not yours,’ Zahir replied with deadly calm—in direct contrast to the fury flashing in her eyes. ‘You are young and extraordinarily beautiful,’ he observed clinically, his voice devoid of emotion. ‘And, since my brother’s death, single.’ Although he would bet his personal fortune that she would not remain so for long, he thought grimly, watching the faint tremor of her lower lip and imagining the velvet softness of her mouth beneath his. ‘I imagine that dating with a toddler in tow could prove rather…inhibiting,’ he drawled sardonically.
‘I have no intention of dating anyone,’ Erin choked, still reeling from his description of her as beautiful. Astounding as it seemed, the Sheikh appeared to find her attractive—but from the coldness of his tone he clearly resented his awareness of her. ‘I haven’t even thought about anything like that…’ Kazim was her world, and there was no room in her heart for anyone but him.
‘Perhaps not yet,’ Zahir conceded. ‘It is only three weeks since my brother died. But at some point you will want to satisfy your sexual urges. I would guess that you possess a deeply sensual nature,’ he remarked, in that same coldly clinical tone that was so at odds with the heat in his gaze as he trailed a blatantly appreciative path down her body. ‘Kazim will become an encumbrance, and I refuse to allow him to spend his childhood forced to vie for your attention with your latest lover.’
‘I don’t want a lover!’ Erin shook her head wildly, her temper heating to boiling point.
Zahir made her sound like a rampant nymphomaniac, with his talk about her sensual nature and needing to satisfy her sexual urges. Little did he know! She was about as sensual as a limp lettuce, and she had never experienced the faintest urge to have sex with any man—until today, a voice in her head taunted. She ignored it and allowed her anger to build as she dwelled on his disgusting offer to buy Kazim from her. She stared down at the cheque, and the row of scrawled noughts, and felt sick.
‘Get out!’ she breathed as she ripped the cheque into pieces with controlled savagery. ‘Kazim is not for sale.’
Zahir showed no reaction, merely stood surveying her disdainfully from beneath raised brows, his lip curled in a derisive smile that snapped her control so that she flung the pieces of cheque at him. ‘How dare you come into my house and demand that I hand you my child?’ She emphasised each word by jabbing her finger into Zahir’s chest, uncaring that he towered menacingly over her. ‘Faisal begged me to adopt his son, and now I know why. You are an arrogant, overbearing bully, and I will do everything possible to prevent you from having any role in Kazim’s life.’
‘Enough!’ The authority in Zahir’s icy command sliced through her furious tirade, and she gasped when he seized her hand, which was still raised to his chest, and jerked her so that her body slammed hard up against his. ‘You will not talk to me in that insolent tone.’
‘I will talk to you in whatever tone I like, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.’
Zahir fought to control the murderous rage coursing through him. Never in his life had he been so insulted. He couldn’t believe Erin had actually prodded him. If she had been a man, retribution would have been swift and deadly. But she was a woman—a woman who needed a few lessons in respect.
She was glaring up at him, her grey eyes stormy and her cheeks stained with angry colour. Her wild red curls formed a fiery halo around her face and he pictured her lying beneath him, flushed and furious, daring him to kiss her…
With a savage oath he lowered his head, forcing her slender neck back as he captured her mouth in a kiss that sought to dominate and subjugate her to his will. This had been building from the moment she had stared at him across the library and he had recognised the undisguised hunger in her eyes. Sexual attraction at its most primitive—and they were both caught in its spell.
‘No!’ Erin’s cry of protest was lost beneath the punishing force of Zahir’s lips as he ground them against hers.
How dared he kiss her? How dared he slide his arm around her waist and drag her even closer against the rock-hard wall of his muscular chest? His other hand moved up to cup her nape and angle her head so that he could plunder her mouth with humiliating ease. Beneath his civilised veneer Zahir bin Kahlid al Muntassir was a barbarian: frighteningly powerful and supremely masculine. His arms felt like steel bands holding her fast, and when he forced his tongue between her lips she moaned and tried to turn her head to evade his ruthless assault.
Her attempts to resist him were futile. The blows she rained on him with her bunched fists had no impact. Finally she laid her hands flat on his chest, unable to fight him any more. He must have sensed her submission, because he eased the pressure of his lips a fraction and the stroke of his tongue inside her mouth became a slow, sensual exploration.
Suddenly each of her senses seemed acutely alive. She could feel the heat of his body through his fine silk shirt, and the mingled scents of his cologne and male pheromones caused a curious weakness in her limbs. Her anger was dissipating, giving way to another emotion she had never experienced before: a slow, insidious excitement that unlocked her taut muscles so that she stopped trying to pull away from him and instead melted into him.
Her eyes flew open in shock when she felt the hard ridge of his arousal push insistently against her belly. What was the matter with her? she wondered, appalled at her shaming weakness. Zahir was a tyrant—a man used to always having his own way, according to Gordon Straker. She despised his arrogance. But the pressure of his hand on
