At the Sheikh's Bidding(10)

She  and Kazim would be back at Ingledean soon, she reassured herself as   the  car swung out of the drive, and she turned her head for one last    glimpse of the house that was the only real home she had ever known.  She   loved Ingledean. The wild beauty of the surrounding moors was a  stark   contrast to the soulless concrete tower block where she had  grown up.

If  Zahir's father was as ill as he'd described, then surely he would   not  want them to make a prolonged visit? She would stay in Qubbah long    enough for Kazim to meet his grandfather and other relatives, and then    she would bring him home to Yorkshire.

Kazim chattered non-stop  on the drive to the airport, and his   excitement grew as they boarded  Zahir's private plane. Erin felt as   though she had stepped into another  world when she glanced around the   luxurious cabin. Instead of rows of  tightly packed seats there were   large cream leather sofas and a plush  velvet carpet. The discreet   lighting created an ambience of refined  luxury, and the cabin crew-two   impossibly beautiful stewardesses-were  charmingly attentive.   Particularly towards Zahir, she noted sourly. It  was little wonder that   he was so arrogant when everyone he came into  contact with seemed to   hang on his every word. But perhaps being  surrounded by yes-men-and   women-was one of the perks of being incredibly  wealthy.

She'd known that Faisal was well off, but he had lived  simply and she   had never given a thought to his fortune. Now she was  forced to   acknowledge that Kazim's family were millionaires-probably    billionaires, she amended, as she debated the likelihood of the fitments    in the bathroom being solid gold. She felt a churning sensation in  the   pit of her stomach. Money and power went hand in hand, and she  could  not  forget Zahir's threat that he would hire the best lawyers  and fight  for  custody of his nephew. But surely he wouldn't do so now  that she  had  agreed to bring Kazim to Qubbah?

Once they were in the air Kazim  quickly became bored and fretful,   despite Erin's attempts to entertain  him. He was over-tired, and she   was relieved when one of the  stewardesses escorted them to a bedroom at   the rear of the plane, where  he fell asleep as soon as his head   touched the pillow. She had assumed  that Zahir would continue working   on his laptop, as he had done since  they had taken off, but to her   consternation he was waiting for her when  she returned to the main   cabin, and indicated that she should join him  on the sofa.                       
       
           



       

‘Champagne?'

He handed her a glass without  waiting for her to reply and settled next   to her, stretching his long  legs out in front of him and tucking his   arms behind his head so that  she was acutely conscious of his lean,   powerful body. She could make out  the hard ridges of his abdominal   muscles beneath the silk shirt, and  guessed that the dark hairs   revealed where he had discarded his tie and  unfastened the top couple   of buttons covered his broad chest. The subtle  tang of his cologne   teased her senses …

In a desperate attempt to  hide the effect he was having on her she took   a gulp of champagne-and  choked as the bubbles hit the back of her   throat.

Zahir was  watching her. He appeared relaxed as he sipped his own   champagne, but  his eyes were hooded, so that she had no idea what he   was thinking. His  next words threw her completely.

‘Tell me, Erin, why exactly did you marry my brother?'

‘What  do you mean?' She set her glass down on the onyx table-top with   an  unsteady hand. It was an innocuous-sounding question, but she   remembered  the solicitor Gordon Straker's warning to be on her guard.


Zahir's dark eyes were coolly assessing as he said, ‘I mean, did you know Faisal was dying before you became his wife?'

If  only she knew where this was leading! ‘I knew he was ill. He was    undergoing tests.' That much was true; she saw no reason to explain that    Faisal had been pessimistic about his prognosis right from the    beginning. ‘Why do you ask?'

‘I'm curious to understand your  motives. While you were packing I took a   look around Ingledean House,  and I saw that the master bedroom-which   still contains many of Faisal's  belongings-is on the third floor, but   that you occupy a room next to the  nursery. It's customary for a   married couple to sleep together-so why  didn't you and Faisal share a   room?'

The silence stretched between them before Erin replied icily, ‘I really don't think that's any of your business.'

‘Oh,  I think it is,' Zahir argued, in a dangerously soft tone that sent   a  shiver down Erin's spine. ‘The cook intimated to me that your   marriage  to my brother was not "normal". She also revealed that there   had been  gossip in the village about your motives for marrying a   wealthy man who  was obviously seriously ill.'

He waited for Erin to absorb his  words, noting how the colour had   drained from her face. She looked very  young, and that air of innocence   was very convincing. It was easy to see  how she had fooled Faisal   three years ago, when he had been a grieving  widower with a baby son.   Hell, she had almost fooled him, Zahir mused  grimly. But the   information his personal assistant had emailed him after  running a data   check revealed things about her that he was sure his  brother had  known  nothing about. Things like a criminal record for  shoplifting,  and  details of a life that had been spiralling out of  control-until  she had  been fostered by an elderly couple who had taken  her to their  home in  the caretaker's cottage in the grounds of Ingledean  House.

There she had managed to catch up on her education, and  had trained as a   nanny, but more controversy had followed with her first  job, looking   after the children of a respected barrister and land-owner  at his   country estate on the outskirts of York. Omran had unearthed  talk of an   affair between Erin and Giles Fitzroy. It was rumoured that  she had   pursued her wealthy employer in the hope that he would leave his  wife   for her, but that eventually Fitzroy had come to his senses and    dismissed her. Soon after that Faisal had bought Ingledean and taken    Erin on as Kazim's nanny.

His brother must have seemed like a  gift from the gods, Zahir thought   darkly-a rich man without the  complication of a wife. Erin had no doubt   seized the opportunity to  ingratiate herself with Faisal and his   motherless son.

‘Shall I  tell you what I think?' he queried silkily, when Erin did not   reply. ‘I  suspect that your marriage to Faisal was not a conventional   one, and the  fact that you occupied separate bedrooms reinforces that   belief. I also  think it's possible that you deliberately coerced my   brother into  marrying you.' He paused, his eyes as dark and cold as   bottomless pools.

‘Faisal  was estranged from his family and he was desperate to ensure   that Kazim  would be well cared for after his death. I'm convinced that   when you  learned of Faisal's illness you played on the vulnerable   emotions of a  dying man and persuaded him to marry you by promising to   care for Kazim.  What my brother did not realise,' Zahir continued   harshly, ‘was that  you were prepared to go to almost any lengths to   gain Ingledean House  and a substantial fortune-including being saddled   with a small child.  But if I can prove that your motives for adopting   my nephew were not as  altruistic as Faisal believed, I'm certain that a   judge will look  favourably on my custody claim of Kazim.'                       
       
           



       


‘But you're wrong,'  Erin gasped, so shocked by his accusations that she   could barely utter  the denial. ‘The only reason I adopted Kazim is   because I adore him.  Ingledean had nothing to do with it-'