She broke off, feeling sick with fear at Zahir's threat to fight for Kazim. Alice had known, of course, that her marriage to Faisal had been in name only and that she had married him for Kazim's sake. But if Alice unwittingly revealed news to Zahir, could it strengthen his case in a court battle over Kazim? And would a judge question her motives for marrying a wealthy, dying man and decide that it would be better for Kazim to be brought up by his uncle? That was something she simply could not risk.
‘I married your brother for love,' she stated fiercely, but the open derision in Zahir's expression prompted her to lie to him. ‘Alice was mistaken. I assure you our marriage was completely "normal" in every sense.'
And let him prove otherwise, she thought shakily, turning away from his penetrating gaze. At least her statement that she had married for love was the truth. But it had been her love for Kazim, whom Faisal had led her to believe would be all alone in the world, which had made her agree to his proposal.
She could not bear to remain sitting with Zahir now that she knew he held such a disgusting opinion of her, and with a mumbled excuse that she wanted to check on Kazim she jumped to her feet and stumbled towards the bedroom.
The little boy was sleeping soundly, and she curled up on the sofa next to the bed and watched him, feeling the familiar surge of love flood through her. She studied him, angelic in sleep, with his mass of black hair and his long eyelashes that made dark crescents on his velvet-soft cheeks. He was hers. Faisal had entrusted him to her and she would never let him go, she vowed.
But she could not dismiss her terror that Zahir might win a custody battle, and she drifted into a fitful sleep where her dreams were haunted by him wrenching Kazim from her arms.
‘Look Erin-camels!' Kazim cried several hours later as he peered out of the window of the luxury four-by-four that was speeding them across the desert. He pointed excitedly at the group of camels plodding over a distant sand dune, led by a group of tribesmen. ‘See them? Can we ride on camels, Zahir?' he asked breathlessly.
‘Not those ones,' Zahir replied in his deep, melodious voice that, to Erin's chagrin, had the annoying effect of bringing her skin out in goosebumps. ‘But I promise that as soon as we reach my home I will arrange to take you for a ride on the friendliest camel I can find. Okay?'
Kazim nodded fervently and beamed at Zahir. Her son was suffering from a serious case of hero-worship, Erin acknowledged dismally, recalling how she had woken at dawn, as the plane began its descent, and discovered that Kazim was already awake, sitting on Zahir's lap while they watched the sun rise over the desert. It was clear that a bond had already been forged between the little boy and his uncle, and Erin despised herself for feeling jealous. Kazim was her world, and she didn't want to share him with anyone, but she could not deny him the chance to meet his family. This trip was turning into a nightmare and she couldn't wait for it to be over.
She stared out at the endless expanse of golden sand and her spirits plummeted further. There was nothing on the horizon: no sign of a village or a house, not even a tree-just sand and sky, shimmering in the heat haze.
‘I can't imagine why anyone would want to live in this baking wilderness,' she muttered. She glanced at her watch and realised that it was half an hour since they had left the town and set off across the desert. ‘Are we anywhere near our destination?'
‘The desert is the most beautiful place in the world,' Zahir snapped coldly, glowering at her. ‘Kazim will love it. You should be able to see the walls of the fortress in another ten minutes.'
‘The fort … ? Just where are you taking us?'
Her feeling of unease had grown from the moment Zahir's jet had landed in Qubbah and she'd seen the fleet of vehicles lined up on the runway, flags fluttering on their bonnets. Zahir had said that his family were influential in Qubbah, but she'd been startled when they had descended the plane's steps and several Arab men, whom she'd guessed were members of his staff, had immediately leapt from the cars and bowed to him. Anyone would think he was royalty, the way people seemed to worship the ground he walked on.
With a heavy sigh she resumed her contemplation of the barren landscape, relief flooding through her when she spied the distant outline of walls and high towers. But her relief gave way to sheer astonishment ten minutes later, when they drove through the huge arched gateway of what was clearly an ancient fortress and then down a mile-long, sweeping driveway, lined on either side by palm trees, before halting outside the most amazing building she had ever seen.
She turned her shocked gaze on Zahir. ‘You're not seriously telling me you live here?' she croaked, staring, awestruck, at the countless marble steps gleaming beneath the brilliant glare of the sun, leading up to a vast white stone residence that resembled a fantasy Arabian palace, with gold-topped turrets and tall, graceful pillars lining the entrance.
Zahir had already released Kazim's seat belt and lifted him from his child seat. He spared Erin a brief glance as someone opened the car door. ‘This is my home-welcome to the Palace of the Falcon,' he murmured coolly. He stepped out of the car with Kazim in his arms, and a man wearing robes immediately bowed his head in greeting.
‘Your Highness.'
Erin scrambled to follow Zahir, and emerged from the car flushed and wild-eyed. What did the man mean-Your Highness? she wondered frantically.
After the cool interior of the air-conditioned car the heat hit her as though she had walked into a furnace, and while Zahir looked cool and urbane, in his pale grey designer suit, she knew that her skirt was badly creased and she did not look nearly so elegant.
‘Who are you?' she breathed, desperately trying to keep up with him as he strode up the steps. But Zahir ignored her and swept through the magnificent arched doorway into a vast entrance hall. There, the white marble floor and huge pillars contrasted with the décor of red and gold, creating a look of such opulence that Erin stopped dead and stared open-mouthed before stumbling after him. ‘Zahir!'
‘You must walk behind the Prince.' The man who had opened the car door was following close behind her, and as she made to run and catch up with Zahir he put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘And you are not permitted to address His Royal Highness. You must only speak if he addresses you.'
‘But … ' Erin shook her head, feeling as though she had landed on another planet. ‘What do you mean? Zahir isn't a prince-is he?' She faltered, flushing beneath the man's curious stare.
‘He is most certainly a prince-the second son of our eminent ruler, His Royal Highness King Kahlid,' the man informed her, his expression faintly scornful as he took in her pink cheeks and the vivid curls that had escaped the pins on top of her head and now clustered around her hot face. ‘My name is Omran. I am Prince Zahir's personal assistant.'
‘Second son?' Erin parroted. ‘You mean Faisal was a prince too?'
‘He was the King's firstborn son, and heir to the Kingdom of Qubbah,' Omran confirmed. ‘Under our ancient laws, when the King dies only his eldest son can rule Qubbah.'
‘But Faisal is dead,' Erin said tremulously. She remembered Zahir's words about his father being elderly. ‘What will happen when King Kahlid dies now that Faisal can't take his place?'
‘The crown will pass to Prince Faisal's eldest son,' Omran said simply. ‘Prince Kazim will one day rule the kingdom. That is why Prince Zahir was dispatched to England to bring the child to Qubbah.'