a cup of coffee and his attendants had been dismissed. ‘This child,’ he looked at the baby on her knee, ‘is the only son of my nephew, and will in time succeed me as ruler of our state. Today’s events have proved beyond any shadow of a doubt that his life is at risk.’ The baby started to cry and he frowned in concern. ‘There is something wrong?’
Claire shook her head wryly. ‘Not really. He is wet and hungry. His nursemaid… the girl who was with him in the dining-room…’
‘I suspect she was a plant who had been paid to leave him unattended. He is normally guarded at all times, but Raoul tells me that the girl insisted that I had said he was to eat in the dining-room. This is not true, and if it had not been for your quick actions…’
‘I thought we were both going to die,’ Claire admitted, shuddering herself.
‘And yet thinking that, you did not abandon Saud,’ the Sheikh commented watching her. ‘Raoul tells me that but for your quick thinking Saud would be dead.’
‘Were you… were you expecting something to happen?’ Claire asked, remembering the guns which had appeared as though by magic in the hands of the men in the dining-room.
The Sheikh shrugged fatalistically. ‘Not so much expecting as suspecting. There is a faction in our country that does not approve of our ties with the West. It is not always easy to know friend from foe and one must always be on one’s guard. Saud’s nursemaid is an example of how easy it is to be deceived. I myself am widowed and have no female relatives close enough to trust with the child.’ He suddenly looked tired and careworn. ‘But I must not burden you with our problems. I should like to reward you for…’
‘No…’ Claire spoke quickly and automatically, reiterating, ‘no… please, I would rather you did not. I simply acted instinctively.’ She looked down at the child now sleeping on her lap. ‘Is there someone who ‘can change and feed him?’ It seemed incredible to her that this child, who was apparently so important, should have no one to care properly for him.
‘I had hoped to find a nanny for him while we are here, but Raoul is opposed to it. He believes Saud would be better looked after by one of our own race.’ He smiled. ‘Perhaps because of his own dual blood, Raoul is more opposed to Saud having a foreign nanny than might otherwise be the case. He feels very deeply the differences which set him aside from his peers.’
What relationship did Raoul have with the baby on her lap, Claire wondered, but it was a question she could not ask, she had no desire to pry into the personal life of the man who had looked at her so coldly with those too-seeing green eyes. Had they registered her minute, betraying reaction to his proximity? The momentary weakness which had had nothing at all to do with her shock and had instead sprung from an entirely voluntary response to him as an intensely male man? It was humiliating to think that they might, especially when she had on more than one occasion seen the derisive dismissal of her as a woman in his eyes.
‘Er…’ She paused, seeing hesitation and embarrassment on the Sheikh’s face, intrigued because she sensed it wasn’t a habitual expression for him.
‘Saud’s room is through there.’ He indicated a communicating door. ‘Would it be trespassing too much to ask you to…?’
‘You want me to change and feed him?’ Claire supplemented, hiding a small smile.
‘We did not bring a large entourage; the boy’s nursemaid was to have been sufficient. I feared to leave him behind unprotected, but now… I think what happened this morning will prove to Raoul that we cannot entrust his care to anyone lightly. The girl who had charge of him came extremely highly-recommended, and yet it is plain that she was part of the plot to kill him.’
Remembering how the girl had lost her temper with the child, and looked so pointedly at her watch before she left the dining-room, Claire suspected that he was right.
The Sheikh was charming and as she allowed herself to be manoeuvred into taking Saud into his own bedroom to attend to his needs, she repressed a small smile. This was most definitely not what her godmother had had in mind for her stay in London.
The baby was supplied with every luxury imaginable, from toys to silk and satin clothes, but there seemed to be scant love in his young life, Claire thought pityingly as she first fed and then bathed him. He was not a difficult baby really, responding affectionately to her when she cuddled and held him. She was just towelling him dry, laughing as he lay gurgling on her lap, when the door opened. She tensed automatically, unable to blot out the mental image of men carrying guns and the high-pitched whine of bullets.
Cool green eyes surveyed her speculatively. ‘A very domesticated picture. What a shame that it is me and not Ahmed who is witnessing it. What are you hoping for with this touching display of maternalism, Miss Miles? More than a diamond bracelet, obviously.’
Claire winced, recognising that he had overheard her conversation with her godmother the previous night, and then anger replaced embarrassment as she recognised the calculated insult behind his words. He was implying that she was motivated by materialism. Her full pink lips tightened ominously, and for a moment she considered thrusting the still damp baby into his arms and letting him finish the task for himself. That would soon destroy his sardonic dignity. A small giggle bubbled up inside her as she pictured his immaculately suited figure dealing with the squirming baby.
‘Sheikh Ahmed asked if I would help, and I agreed,’ she said calmly, ‘but only because Saud was both wet and hungry, and too small yet to fend for himself. Sheikh Ahmed tells me that you are against his employing a European nanny for Saud.’
‘You have been exchanging confidences, haven’t you? What else did he tell you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Liar. I’m sure knowing my uncle as I do that he also told you of my mixed blood, and now, no doubt, you are on fire with curiosity to know more.’
His arrogance provoked her into an instinctive anger. ‘On the contrary,’ she told him coldly, ‘I have no desire to know the slightest thing about you. Why should I?’ She finished buttoning Saud into clean rompers and got up, thrusting the baby towards him, a little surprised by how deftly he held the child, then swept out of the room before he could stop her, seething with fury, because he was right—she had been curious about him. Of course, he must be used to women finding him fascinating. That blend of East and West was a potent one, and he knew it, damn him!
She had always loathed arrogant, self-assured men, Claire reminded herself as she let the door slam behind her and hurried towards the lift, and if she had responded momentarily to the sheer male power of his body against her, it had been a reaction intensified by weakness and relief. After all, she would be a fool to think for one moment that those green eyes might burn with tenderness and passion for her, or that that hard, faintly cruel mouth might touch hers in need and hunger. A complete fool.
THERE was no reason for her to feel so dissatisfied. Her day had passed pleasantly enough, Claire told herself. She had visited the Tate to admire many old favourites, and then there had been a pleasant walk through the park. Now she was on her way back to the Dorchester to indulge herself with afternoon tea in the promenade room, so why should she feel this tiny feathering of restlessness that kept disturbing her? Perhaps it was because she was alone. She would write to Teddy, send him a postcard of the hotel. Thinking of Teddy reminded her of her ever-present worries about finding his school fees. Generous though
