Perhaps it was the knowledge that she was forbidden that made her even more alluring? Wasn't it human nature to desire most the thing you could not have?
Living under the same roof as her threatened to be purgatory, he acknowledged grimly, even taking into account the vastness of the palace. Even worse, he had promised his father that he would cut back on his trips abroad so that he could spend more time attending to matters of state. It would be many years before Kazim could rule Qubbah, and King Kahlid had already made it clear that on his death he expected Zahir to rule until Kazim came of age.
Zahir loved his homeland, but he was going to miss his freedom. He had always enjoyed spending time at his homes in London, St Tropez and New York, and up until recently he'd kept mistresses at all three locations. Out of respect to his father he'd always kept his affairs discreet, and he certainly could not invite his lovers to the palace. But he had a healthy sex drive, and he could see that it would not be long before he was climbing the walls with frustration-a situation made a hundred times worse when he was tormented by X-rated fantasies about his sexy sister-in-law.
Erin spent the rest of the morning with the King, who was plainly captivated by his little grandson and insisted-much to the obvious concern of his manservant Aswan-on crawling about on his hands and knees to play with him. For his part Kazim seemed to have taken an instant liking to his grandfather, but as Erin watched the two of them playing her confusion increased.
Zahir had told her that his father was seriously ill. Indeed, he had insisted on rushing her and Kazim away from Ingledean and given her the impression that the King was close to death. But, although King Kahlid was old and somewhat frail-looking, he was surprisingly sprightly and appeared to be in good health.
Zahir had treated her as if she was a puppet and he was holding the strings, she thought angrily when she took Kazim back to the nursery for his lunch.
Her fears that she had been manipulated into a situation from which there was no escape deepened further when Kazim had settled for his nap and the nanny, Bisma, showed her a map of the palace so that she could begin to find her way around.
Despite the air-conditioning, she was so hot that her hair was clinging in damp tendrils to her neck, and she desperately needed to do something to relieve the tension that gripped her muscles. ‘I think I'll go and have a swim while Kazim is asleep,' she said, indicating a nearby pool on the map.
‘Oh, but you cannot swim in that pool,' Bisma informed her. ‘It is overlooked by the palace windows and anyone could see you. You must swim in the pool in the women's quarters.'
‘Women's quarters! I honestly think I've stepped back in time to another century,' Erin muttered. ‘Next you'll be telling me I'm to join the harem.'
Bisma shook her head and explained seriously, ‘King Kahlid's father was the last ruler to keep a harem. Since our beloved Royal Highness became King the men of Qubbah have mostly followed his lead and only take one wife.'
‘Well, that's good to know,' Erin said sarcastically. But for some reason she found herself wondering who Zahir would marry. Would he only take one wife? She knew he was in his late thirties, but he did not seem in any hurry to marry one woman, let alone half a dozen. ‘Why is Prince Zahir not married?' she asked Bisma curiously. ‘I know that the King had arranged for Faisal to marry, and that he eloped with another man's fiancée. But why didn't King Kahlid choose a wife for his second son?'
‘The King did choose Prince Zahir a bride, and the Prince fell in love with her-' Bisma broke off, a curious expression in her eyes when she stared at Erin.
For some inexplicable reason Erin felt a dull weight settle in her chest as she imagined Zahir in love with some unknown beauty-laughing with her, making love to her … Jealousy stabbed sharply in her heart, although she did not know why when she had convinced herself that she loathed him. She feigned uninterest when she queried, ‘So why didn't they get married?'
Bisma looked uncomfortable, and she refused to meet Erin's gaze as she suddenly became absorbed in her task of folding the mountain of tee shirts that had been delivered for Kazim. ‘I do not know. It was several years ago, and I have only heard gossip from my cousin, who works for the King's daughter, Princess Fatima.'
Erin nodded. She already knew that Zahir had three older sisters who were all married and had families of their own. But she was intrigued to hear more about Zahir's near-marriage experience.
Bisma was clearly worried that she had been indiscreet. ‘It is not my place to talk of the Royal Family's personal affairs,' she mumbled, and would not be drawn further.
Erin sighed and wandered over to the window. The palace gardens were an exquisite oasis of green lawns and vibrantly colourful plants, but beyond the outer walls the desert stretched as far as the eye could see-a vast, arid landscape that was alien and frightening. The sight of it made her heart sink even further. She had lost all desire for a swim now that she knew she would be relegated to the ‘women's quarters'. What kind of place was this? she thought dismally. She didn't belong here in this gilded prison, and nor did Kazim. She was sure Faisal had wanted him to grow up at Ingledean, and despite Zahir's insistence that he would remain at the palace she was determined to take him home.
‘I have to speak to Zahir,' she announced tersely. She had already gleaned from Bisma that Zahir's private quarters were on the opposite side of the palace, but when she marched towards the door, her face set, the nanny glanced up in alarm.
‘You cannot go to the Prince's quarters alone and uninvited,' she said anxiously, staring at Erin as though she feared Zahir would have her thrown into the ancient fortress's dungeons if she dared to disturb him.
But Erin's mind was made up. ‘Watch me,' she told Bisma coolly, and, mentally preparing herself for battle, she swept out of the nursery.
It would be easy to disappear without trace in the miles of corridors that wound through the vast palace, she decided some twenty minutes later, when she finally negotiated her way to the east wing.
‘Will I find Prince Zahir here?' she asked the hapless guard who had followed her from her side of the palace, and who had looked increasingly unhappy when she had steadfastly refused to return to her suite.
He did not reply, but she saw him exchange glances with the two guards standing at the end of the corridor. She was certain she would find Zahir beyond the double doors.
‘I'm here to see the Prince,' she told them, lifting her chin and glaring at them when they stared straight ahead, their faces impassive. ‘He is expecting me.' The lie still earned no response, and with an angry toss of her head she stepped forward-only to find her way instantly barred as the guards crossed their swords in front of the doors.
‘It is not permitted for you to enter.' One of the men finally spoke, and Erin's brows shot up.
‘Oh, so you can understand me? Well, understand this: I wish to see His Highness, and I intend to see him right now.'
‘You cannot.'
As she put her hand on the door one of the guards caught hold of her arm, his eyes gleaming as he said something in Arabic to his companion that Erin was certain from his tone and the derogatory sneer on his face was not a compliment. A red mist of rage swirled in front of her eyes as she struggled free of his grasp. Her temper had been smouldering like a sleeping volcano since she had arrived in Qubbah, and now it erupted in a cataclysmic explosion.