he restrained his impatience. He would phone his personal assistant, Omran, as soon as possible, and instruct him to research Erin’s background. He had grown up in a royal palace where intrigue and gossip were rife, but he knew from experience that even the wildest rumours often contained grains of truth. Omran’s diligence was next to none, and if there were any skeletons in Faisal’s widow’s cupboard they would soon be revealed, he thought grimly.
He turned his attention back to Kazim, and this time his smile was genuine. ‘I brought a present for you,’ he told the little boy, his heart softening when Kazim’s eyes lit up with excitement. ‘It’s a toy camel, just like the real camels that live in the desert. How would you like to come to my home in the desert and ride on one?’
Erin pushed open the library door to see Kazim staring at Zahir, utterly spellbound. Zahir was crouched low, so that his face was on a level with Kazim’s, and Erin was instantly struck by the familial likeness between the man and the child. Kazim shared his uncle’s Arabic colouring and silky black hair. An image filtered into her mind of the two of them astride a camel, Zahir’s arms around Kazim as the animal carried them across golden sands.
The picture in her head was so real that she drew a sharp breath. Kazim’s home was here at Ingledean, with her, she reminded herself, fighting the sudden surge of panic that gripped her. She turned to Alice, who was watching Zahir with a dreamy expression on her face that fuelled Erin’s irritation. Okay, so the man looked like Lawrence of Arabia, and his voice was no longer cold and haughty but as warm and sensuous as molten syrup—but that was no reason to drool over him, she thought crossly.
‘Erin—I got a camel.’ Kazim finally noticed her and ran across the room, waving the toy excitedly at her. ‘I’m going to ride on one—a real one,’ he added emphatically, his brown eyes glowing with anticipation. ‘Can we go to the desert now?’
Out of the mouths of babes! Erin managed to simultaneously smile at the toddler and glare at Zahir, who had straightened to his full height once more and dominated the room.
‘Not today, darling,’ she murmured. ‘The desert is a long way from here.’ She swung her gaze back to Zahir and gave him a cool smile that belied the frantic thudding of her heart. ‘Gordon Straker was sensible to leave before the weather worsens. I suggest you do the same. I’m sure you would prefer not to be stranded in this “draughty monstrosity of a house,”’ she added sweetly. ‘Alice, will you take Kazim to the kitchen? It’s time for his tea.’
‘Oh—right.’ Alice looked faintly startled at Erin’s brisk tone, but held out her hand to Kazim and led him from the room.
The cook closed the door behind her, leaving Erin alone with Zahir, and her heart sank when she glanced at him and saw that his face had hardened, his eyes blazing with anger.
‘You would begrudge me even five minutes with my brother’s child?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Kazim is my flesh and blood—’
‘I didn’t know about you.’ Erin quickly defended herself. ‘Faisal told me that neither he nor his first wife had any family. You must understand that your appearance here today has been a shock.’ She bit her lip, her thoughts whirling around her brain. ‘When you say that Kazim has family in Qubbah—who are they, exactly?’
‘My father…’ Zahir paused; Erin seemed genuinely shocked that Faisal had a family. For some reason Faisal had not told her that he was a prince, nor that his son was heir to the throne of Qubbah, but for now he saw no reason to impart that information. ‘My family have much power and influence in Qubbah,’ he informed her. ‘My father, Sheikh Kahlid, is eager to see his tenth grandson. My three sisters are married, and have children who are Kazim’s cousins, and my father has six siblings who, together with their husbands and wives and children, make up a large extended family.
‘Surely you must see that it would be better for Kazim to be brought up by his real family, by relatives who will love him, who can teach him of his heritage and culture and who want only the best for him?’ he demanded impatiently when Erin stared at him, stunned into silence by the revelation that Kazim had a huge family in Qubbah.
Kazim was hers, she thought frantically, and no one could take him from her. Gordon Straker had said so. ‘I love him,’ she said fiercely. ‘I want what is best for him. And I don’t think that carting him off to unfamiliar surroundings and a horde of people he’s never met before would be good for him right now. You have to believe that my only concern is Kazim’s welfare,’ she continued, forcing herself to sound calm, although she felt anything but when Zahir was prowling the room, silent and menacing as a panther stalking its prey. ‘I don’t know the reason why Faisal was estranged from you and the rest of his family, but it must have been serious if he made no contact with you in six years. Kazim is a little boy who has lost both his parents, and he needs the security and stability of remaining here in the only home he has ever known. Perhaps when he is a bit older there could be some contact,’ she offered hesitantly. You could visit…’
‘I don’t intend that my relationship with my brother’s child will be confined to the occasional visit.’ Zahir’s icy scorn flayed her like a whip. ‘Kazim belongs in Qubbah, with his blood family, and that is where I intend to take him—with or without your approval.’
‘You can’t.’ Erin remembered Gordon Straker’s warning not to allow Zahir to bully her, and she squared her shoulders, refusing to cower beneath his anger.
‘The word can’t is not one I am familiar with,’ he informed her imperiously.
He wasn’t joking, Erin realised shakily as she stared at his haughty expression. She had a feeling that no one had ever crossed Sheikh Zahir bin Kahlid al Muntassir in his life, and she did not relish being the first.
‘Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to add it to your vocabulary,’ she snapped. ‘Kazim is legally my son, and I intend to follow Faisal’s wishes and bring him up here in England. I can see that it would be good for Kazim to meet his relatives,’ she conceded huskily, her voice faltering fractionally at the prospect of sharing the little boy with strangers who, if Zahir’s attitude was anything to go by, would disapprove of her, ‘and I understand your father’s desire to see his grandson. For that reason I am prepared to allow him to visit Kazim.’
Prepared to allow! Outrage robbed Zahir temporarily of his ability to speak. No one allowed members of the ruling family of Qubbah to do anything. Their power was absolute in the tradition-bound kingdom. And as for being dictated to by a woman! Changes were slowly happening in his homeland, and he recognised that there would have to be many more if Qubbah did not want to be left behind as the world moved through the twenty-first century, but at present women had no status in Qubbah, and he was infuriated by Erin’s assumption that he would meekly agree to her rules. Meek was not a word ever associated with Prince Zahir bin Kahlid al Muntassir!
He 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
