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Resolved to fight for what best suited her needs, Elinor squared her slim shoulders. ‘You were educated here in England, weren’t you?’
His ebony brows elevated. ‘Not fully. I began my education here when I was sixteen.’
‘I don’t want to be your wife any more than I believe you want me to be your wife,’ she declared tightly. ‘I have every respect for your background, your family and Sami’s importance to you, but I intend to raise my son here in England. When he’s older he can make his own decision about where he wants to live.’
Jasim’s bone structure had set taut below his bronzed skin and his thickly lashed dark eyes were grave and cold. ‘That is not an acceptable arrangement. I may have been educated abroad, but I was born a second son and my upbringing was very different from Murad’s. Sami is the firstborn and my heir. I cannot allow you to keep him here.’
Her nerves succumbing to the terrible bite of tension in the air, Elinor was trembling. ‘I’m not asking you to allow anything, I’m telling you that I do not want to live in Quaram!’
His hard gaze glittered gold with anger. ‘You will not dictate terms to me. I hold diplomatic status here and I could fly Sami back home today without your permission. It was a courtesy to offer you a choice. Sami is vitally important to the succession and the stability of Quaram and I will not rest until I can bring my son back to my country because that is my duty.’
‘Are you threatening me?’ Elinor questioned fiercely.
‘I am insisting that you consider your position and Sami’s future with simple common sense, rather than through some fluffy veil of foolish emotion and selfishness,’ Jasim drawled in a raw tone of contempt. ‘Sami will not be accepted as a future ruler if he is a stranger to our people. He cannot learn our culture and language at a distance and still expect to understand our ways and belong. If you deny him that experience, you will make him an outsider.’
Reeling from that crack about fluffy, foolish emotion, Elinor folded her arms in a sharp defensive gesture. ‘I truly hate you for putting so much pressure on me!’
‘I do what must be done,’ Jasim countered with sardonic cool. ‘You have to face reality. Sami is not an ordinary little boy. Some day he too will have to learn that responsibility goes hand in hand with great position and privilege.’
Elinor was anything but grateful for those home truths. She felt that Jasim had cruelly plunged her into an intolerable situation, where either she sacrificed her own needs or her son’s. Was her son ever likely to forgive her if she denied him easy access to his father and his heritage? Separating Sami from a parent who would one day be a King could well foster uncertainties and divisions that would make Sami’s life more difficult as an adult. How could she possibly act against what might be Sami’s best interests?
‘I want to go home now with Sami,’ she breathed stiltedly.
A few minutes later she watched as Jasim bent to lift Sami from the cot. Although awake, Sami was still drowsy from his nap and his little face took on a cranky look when he registered the strangeness of his surroundings. Jasim was amazingly gentle with the little boy and Sami slumped against him and rested his heavy head down trustingly on his father’s shoulder. ‘He’s getting to know me,’ Jasim remarked with satisfaction.
At that same moment Sami stole his thunder by espying his mother and throwing his arms wide in a demonstration of enthusiastic welcome. In spite of her stress level, Elinor managed to smile and give her son a hug, while Jasim told her about the toast that Sami had dropped at the crèche. His very choice of words helped Elinor to appreciate why he had intervened and removed Sami—‘I could not stand to see him cry like that.’ Elinor realised then that she was getting to know Jasim as well, or at least another side to him that she could not have dreamt existed. When it came to Sami, it seemed Jasim was anything but cold, detached and harshly judgemental. Elinor wondered with some bitterness how it would feel to have the same power her son had to stir Jasim’s emotions.
But, in the absence of that emotion, she had to consider what was best for her son. She recognised that, unless she was prepared to go out on a limb and risk damaging Sami’s future prospects in his father’s country, she did not have a choice to make. Moving to Quaram was a necessity, not another option.
‘If there is no other way and it has to be done for Sami’s sake, I will agree to live in Quaram,’ Elinor breathed in a driven tone as she reached the foot of the elegant staircase.
‘That is the right decision and it will not be one which I give you cause to regret,’ Jasim asserted softly.
‘You know very well that you might as well have turned a gun on me when you warned me that you could easily have flown Sami out of the country today without me!’ Elinor snapped, compressing her soft mouth into an indignant line.
Yet Elinor also appreciated that, although Jasim was a ruthless, heartless rat, she still had unresolved feelings for him, feelings composed of maybe fifty per cent resentment and distrust, forty per cent sexual fascination and ten per cent hope for a fairy-tale happy ending in which he fell madly, deeply, hopelessly in love with her. But, as her late mother had taught her to have little faith in happy endings, she wasn’t about to hold her breath on that score.
She went home and drew up lists of things she had to do before she could leave London for Quaram and she sat up late discussing events and making plans with her friends. The next morning she quit her job and Jasim insisted on taking Sami and her shopping for clothing more suited to a hot climate. She was startled by the number of outfits he deemed necessary and increasingly perturbed by his evident knowledge of what women liked in the wardrobe department.
‘You’ve had an awful lot of women in your life, haven’t you?’ she opined, while he calmly selected garments that were displayed by a team of sales personnel for their appraisal and announced that he thought she suited bright colours like green and blue.
‘I have a certain amount of experience,’ Jasim responded with measured cool. ‘But it would not be appropriate for me to discuss that side of my life with you.’
Her fingers curled into talons, her nails marking her palms with sharp little crescents. She hated the idea of him ever having been with another woman and felt sick at the concept of him being intimate with anyone else but her. Registering just how confused her emotions were around him, she felt her discomfiture increase. ‘I didn’t say I wanted to discuss it precisely. But the way you swept me off my feet—literally—at Woodrow the first day we met was educational,’ she murmured soft and low. ‘With hindsight I can see I was dealing with an expert womaniser.’
‘You’re entitled to your own opinion on that score,’ Jasim remarked without heat, refusing to argue the point in public.
While it was true that Jasim had enjoyed many women, he was not ashamed of the fact. His affairs had always been discreet and conducted on candid terms. He had learned that most women were delighted to give him their company and sexual pleasure in return for a glittering social life and expensive gifts. Sex had never been complicated for him, but he was beginning to suspect that sex within marriage might well prove to be his biggest challenge yet. He glanced at Elinor, noting the tension still etched into her delicate profile. In his extensive experience all women loved to be spoiled. Not unnaturally, he had assumed that a major shopping trip would lift her mood and please her.
But the pursuit had failed to work its usual magic. It was slowly dawning on him that he had very little idea what went on inside Elinor’s head. She gave him wildly conflicting signals. What was the matter with her? Why did he please her less than he pleased other women, who were enthralled and eager to reciprocate when he expressed an interest? Why was she sitting beside him watching the parade of beautiful designer garments with the expression of a puritan invited to an orgy? Sudden devilment gleamed in his dark deep-set eyes. If that was her attitude, he should meet her expectations head-on …
Frustration was filling Elinor to overflowing. As usual, Jasim had ignored her questions and slammed a door shut in her face and he was raising barriers to keep her at a distance. He didn’t want her to know him any better. Evidently her role was to be more Sami’s mother than a wife to Sami’s father. It was an assumption that was to take a thorough beating at their next port of call—a highly exclusive lingerie boutique filled with tiny frilly pieces of satin, silk and lace that shocked Elinor to her unadventurous core. While she stood frozen with mortification by his side, Jasim examined what was on offer and made generous selections of frivolous items of underwear that Elinor could not even imagine wearing. She was outraged by his nerve. How dared he make such intimate purchases on her behalf?
Temper bubbling up in her like a natural spring, Elinor dealt him a furious appraisal when they were back inside the limousine.
‘I wouldn’t be seen dead dressed in underwear of that sort!’ she snapped at him.
Unholy amusement turned his dark brown gaze to simmering gold chips of enticement in the lean dark lineaments of his handsome face. ‘Such lingerie would certainly provide a novel look for your departure from the world … but I would much prefer to see you wear them while you were very much alive and kicking, so that I could show you my appreciation.’
‘Never in this lifetime!’ Colour ran like a betraying banner as high as Elinor’s hairline as she recoiled from that riposte and the hot masculine appraisal that accompanied it. As if he was already imagining her prancing about a bedroom in those minuscule confections of satin and lace, designed to enhance and display the female body for a man’s gratification!
Jasim skated a teasing forefinger down over the back of her tautly clenched hand. ‘Never is a long time, aziz. Who can tell what the future holds?’
Elinor snatched away her hand. ‘Certainly nothing of that nature, I assure you!’ she rebutted furiously, squirming from the suspicion that he was accustomed to provocative displays in the bedroom and trying to encourage her to make an effort in the same direction.
Blissfully unaware of the tension in the air, Sami tugged off a sock and chuckled while he explored his bare toes. Elinor compressed her lips. Not for worlds would she have admitted that the promise of Jasim’s appreciation lit a wicked little flame of longing inside her, while the prospect of dressing down in wispy nothings for his benefit had a decadent allure that carried sudden shocking appeal for her starved senses.
Instead she sensibly concentrated her mind on the packing she still had to do and the wisdom of getting Sami to bed soon to compensate for the early hour of their departure the following morning. Tomorrow she would be arriving in a foreign country and she knew that she would need all her wits about her as well as a good deal of adaptability to handle that challenge …
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘YOU wish to know what you should wear to meet my father?’ Jasim echoed with a frown of surprise. ‘He won’t take fright at the sight of your legs, if that’s what you mean. There is no dress code, although I would aim at the conservative.’
Elinor vanished back into a small cabin on Jasim’s private jet where she had been rifling through a suitcase, and wished she had made her mind up about what to wear before she travelled. Jasim certainly wasn’t much help! With a sigh she shook out a blue silk dress and jacket, light enough to keep her cool and plain enough in style to suit any occasion. Sami was fast asleep in his sky cot, all the nonsense drummed out of him after an energetic and noisy hour of play with his father. Elinor was still shaken by the recollection of Jasim, careless of the damage he might be causing to his immaculate and beautifully tailored designer suit, getting down on his knees to play hide-and-seek around the seats in the main cabin with his enthusiastic son. It was obvious to her that Jasim already had a huge wow factor for Sami. Without any encouragement from her they were bonding like mad.
The diamond ring on her wedding finger caught her attention and she stiffened. It was the very ring with which Murad had once proposed to her mother, and which she had recently sold. Jasim had returned the magnificent diamond cluster, together with the wedding ring that he had given her, when she’d boarded the jet, insisting that she start wearing both.
‘But why?’ she had argued, uncomfortable with the engagement ring’s sheer screaming opulence and the unhappy history that related it to her mother in her own mind.
‘That ring is always worn by the Crown Prince’s bride.’
‘Your brother didn’t give it to his wife,’ Elinor could not resist reminding him.
Jasim gave her a grim look. ‘But he should have done. It was hers by right.’
‘You still don’t believe what I told you about my mother and Murad, do you?’ Elinor prompted tightly.
‘I’m sure my father will confirm the story … if it is true,’ Jasim completed in a sceptical tone that set her teeth on edge. ‘Your own father neglected to mention it.’
Astonished by that casual comment, Elinor snapped, ‘When did you meet my father?’
‘Soon after you staged your vanishing act. Naturally I traced your father to see if you had been in touch with him.’ Jasim recalled the obsessively tidy house and the absence of a single photograph of Elinor. He had not been impressed by the older man’s lack of concern for his only child. ‘He promised to contact me if he heard from you.’
‘My father would never have acknowledged that his first wife enjoyed a romance with one of his students before their marriage. It always annoyed him, particularly as their marriage wasn’t very successful. Did he tell you how stupid I was in the academic stakes?’
Jasim froze. ‘No—why would he have done?’
‘Because I was a major disappointment in that field.’
‘When you disappeared, I was worried sick about your welfare,’ Jasim admitted flatly. ‘Enquiries were made at all the agencies dealing with nannies—’
‘While I was pregnant I took an office skills course as retraining. I thought the hours would suit me better after my baby was born. My flatmates became my friends,’ she confided. ‘Alissa and Lindy were marvellous.’
‘I am grateful that you had their support but had you given me the choice,’ Jasim breathed, ‘I would have been there for you.’
As the private jet landed Elinor noticed the crowd of people outside the airport. ‘Why are all those people standing outside?’
‘Our arrival is quite an event. Sami’s existence has been formally announced and it is probably safe to say that he is currently the most popular baby in Quaram,’ Jasim shared with an amused smile. ‘My brother’s death was a great shock to everyone and the continuity of the royal line means a great deal to our people.’
Several rows of smartly dressed soldiers teamed with a military band, as well as a smiling collection of dignitaries, greeted them on their descent from the plane. A stirring musical score backed the formal welcome while just about everyone craned their necks to get a look at the baby in Elinor’s arms. Rested from his nap, Sami, his big brown eyes sparkling, was looking around with great interest. From a polite distance and only at an affirmative nod from Jasim, cameras flashed to capture the royal party.
A limousine decorated with flags and ribbons collected them from the runway. Surrounded by police vehicles and preceded by motorcycle outriders, they were wafted from the airport into the city and port of Muscar. Everything was much more contemporary and western than Elinor had somehow expected and she scolded herself for not having done more research on her future home. The wide streets of the city were packed with people waving at the cavalcade as they drove past. Jasim gave her a running commentary, directing her attention from the stunning ultra-modern skyscrapers and landscaped green spaces that marked the business district to a conservation area, known as the Old City, where ancient mosques, souks packed with craftsmen and listed buildings were proving a strong draw to the tourist industry.
Soon after he pointed out the main government offices, he added quietly, ‘There is the palace.’
The limousine rounded a vast fountain before turning down a huge imposing drive lined with trees. Gardeners were industriously watering the lush lawns. Ahead loomed a vast structure with a very strange-looking wavy roof that was the ultimate in avant-garde design.
‘It’s … er … very unusual,’ Elinor remarked.
‘Murad commissioned it and it won several design awards. I think it looks more like a hotel than a home and my father detests it, but this will be our home when we are in Muscar. I still believe that the old palace outside the city could have been successfully renovated.’
A throng of people were waiting outside the imposing front entrance. Jasim explained that the crowd was composed of the household staff and he took charge of Sami to make it easier for Elinor to get out of the limo. Perspiration beaded her short upper lip at the same moment that she left the coolness of the car. The heat from the sun beat down on her. Within seconds she felt hot and uncomfortable. She was also starting to feel rather overwhelmed by the level of interest and attention and exceedingly nervous about meeting Jasim’s father, King Akil. All the women hung over Sami with intense interest and admiration while Jasim translated the appreciative comments. It crossed her mind that Murad would have been less gracious and patient with such humble employees.
It was wonderful to step into the air-conditioned cool and shade of the palace. It was built on a very grand scale: the vast main hallway, walled and floored in pale gleaming marble, would have passed muster at an airport. She lingered below the refreshing blast of the air-conditioning until her silk dress no longer felt as though it was sticking to her skin and she had rediscovered her energy.
Jasim rested questioning dark eyes on her. ‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘It’s incredibly hot out there,’ she muttered apologetically, wishing she could retrieve the foolish words almost as soon as she spoke them, for what else could it be but very hot in a desert kingdom in mid-summer?
‘It will take time for you to get used to the higher temperatures. Do you want to take a break before you make my father’s acquaintance?’ Jasim queried.
‘No, let’s just go ahead now.’ Elinor swallowed back the additional words ‘and get it over with,’ which would have been less than tactful. But she really wasn’t looking forward to the coming meeting. She was the pregnant foreign wife Jasim had married behind his father’s back, a wife who had then disappeared for well over a year. She could hardly expect King Akil to look on a humble nanny with that history as a worthy match for his only surviving son.
They trekked a long way through the building. Footsteps and voices echoed to create a noisy backwash of sound. Eventually they reached a set of double doors presided over by armed guards. The doors were thrown wide, an announcement made by a hovering manservant, and finally they were ushered into the royal presence.
Elinor was shocked by her first view of Jasim’s father, who was resting on an old-fashioned chaise longue that seemed ludicrously out of place against the extreme modernity of his surroundings. White-haired, clad in traditional robes and as thin as a rail, King Akil was much older than she had expected and he looked very frail. Formality ruled as greetings were quietly exchanged and then Jasim broke the ice by carrying Sami over for his grandfather’s examination. An immediate smile chased the gravity from the older man’s drawn face.
‘He is a fine handsome boy with bright eyes,’ the King commented approvingly to Elinor in heavily accented English. ‘You named him after my great-grandfather as well. You have excellent taste.’
Elinor went pink with pleasure at that unexpected compliment. She had picked her son’s name from the potted history of Quaram on the royal website. Sami’s much-revered ancestor had been a renowned scholar and diplomatist credited with uniting his country’s warring tribes. She didn’t bother to admit that she had also chosen that particular name because it sounded conveniently like an English one—Sam—that she thought suited her child.
With an imperious dip of his head, the King switched back to his own language and engaged his son in dialogue. As the older man spoke at length and with much solemnity, Jasim seemed to become a good deal tenser and his responses sounded a little terse. Indeed Elinor could not help but notice the rise of dark blood to Jasim’s cheekbones and the revealing clenching of his lean brown hands and guessed that it was a challenge for him to retain his temper. Momentarily, the discussion or possibly what could have been an unusually polite dispute halted while a servant was summoned to escort Elinor and Sami from the room.
Full of fierce curiosity though she was, Elinor was nonetheless relieved to escape the uptight atmosphere. Even so, having noticed the extreme formality that reigned between father and a son, she was wondering why the relationship between the King and Jasim was so strained. An instant later, she was furious with herself for being so obtuse. Jasim had married her without his father’s permission and her behaviour as a runaway wife could hardly have added gloss to her reputation. Most probably she was the root cause of the trouble between the two men!
A strikingly attractive young woman in an elegant black and white designer dress was walking towards her. A diamond brooch that Elinor thought was rather flashy for daytime wear glittered at her neckline. She paused to admire Sami.
‘Your son is adorable. I am Laila, Jasim’s cousin, and I have been asked to help you settle in,’ the brunette announced, pearly white teeth glinting between raspberry glossed lips as she smiled. She had a wonderful head of thick black silky hair that curved round her heart-shaped face and fell down to her shoulders. Almond-shaped, slightly tilted brown eyes gave her an exotic quality and the heavy lids lent her face a voluptuous aspect that Elinor thought men would find highly attractive.
‘Thank you. This is a rather new environment for me.’
Laila led her down a corridor. ‘I imagine it is and you must be dreading making so many adjustments.’
Elinor tensed. ‘No, I’m not quite that intimidated,’ she parried.
‘Life in the royal family can be very constrained,’ Laila continued with an expressive roll of her eyes. ‘When I’m in London I can do whatever I like, but it’s different here. The King runs a very tight ship.’
Reluctant to get involved in that sort of conversation with a stranger, Elinor murmured instead, ‘Murad’s death must have hit your family very hard.’
‘Jasim already enjoys more popular support than his older brother. Murad’s extravagance offended many and his reputation was poor. You and the little boy are definitely the jewel in Jasim’s future crown,’ Laila quipped. ‘A son at first go and when you were only just married—congratulations! We’re all impressed to death.’
‘I didn’t appreciate how much Sami would mean to Jasim’s family.’
‘And our entire country. I believe history is about to be made on your behalf,’ Laila remarked. ‘I hear Sami is to be shown off to the television cameras and you are to be interviewed. Such media access to the royal family is unprecedented.’
Elinor, suddenly feeling much more daunted by her role as Jasim’s wife than she was prepared to admit to her companion, said nothing.
‘This is the royal nursery. An entire household has been designed around Sami,’ Laila explained, crossing the threshold of a large room crammed with toys and baby equipment. Half a dozen servants streamed through other linked doorways to dip their heads very low while at the same time striving to get a first look at the child in Elinor’s arms. ‘I won’t try to introduce you because few of the staff speak English. Let them look after him while I show you where you will be living.’