At the Sheikh's Bidding(3)

‘Forgive me. I did not  introduce you because I assumed that the two of   you already knew each  other … that you had met … at the wedding.' His   confusion and embarrassment  deepened. ‘But clearly not,' he added   slowly, when they continued to  stare blankly back at him. ‘My   apologies … it never occurred to me that  you were unaware of each other's   identity … Erin, may I introduce Sheikh  Zahir bin Kahlid al   Muntassir-Faisal's brother. Sheikh Zahir, this is  Erin-Faisal's second   wife.'



The book-lined walls of the  library seemed to tilt alarmingly, and Erin   gripped the edge of the desk  as she struggled to comprehend Gordon   Straker's words. ‘But Faisal told  me he had no family,' she mumbled,   her gaze swinging frantically from  the solicitor's genial face to the   man beside her, whose expression was  so coldly arrogant that ice   slithered down her spine.

‘There must  be some mistake.' Zahir addressed the man seated opposite   him, his  clipped tones shattering the tense silence. Shock ricocheted   through  him, and with it a fierce and inexplicable bolt of fury that   overrode  the grief that had consumed him since he had learned of   Faisal's death.

What  bitter irony that once again he had lost out to his brother-just   as he  had done six years ago, he brooded grimly. This woman, with her    slumbrous, woodsmoke-coloured eyes and sensual, pouting mouth, had been    Faisal's wife. Faisal must have released her glorious hair and  watched   it tumble down her back. He would have stroked his hands over  her   milky-pale naked flesh … just as he, Zahir, had fantasised about  doing   from the moment he had laid eyes on her.

And even the knowledge  that she had been his brother's widow for little   more than two weeks did  not lessen his awareness of her, or diminish   the primitive urge he felt  to crush her mouth beneath his and then   strip the clothes from her body  and spread her across the desk, ready   for his possession.

His  lip curled in self-disgust, and he could not bring himself to look   at  her while he exerted iron will-power over his rampaging hormones.   What  did it matter who she was or what her relationship had been with   Faisal?  he asked himself impatiently. His wealth, combined with the   good-looks  that he acknowledged were a fortunate accident of birth,   meant that he  could take his pick from a limitless supply of beautiful   women-and he  did so, frequently. He did not need his brother's   leftovers. There was  only one reason why he was here, only one thing he   was interested in.

He  stood up and walked back over to the window, needing to put some    distance between himself and the woman who was having such a disturbing    effect on him.

Erin jumped to her feet and glared at him. ‘It's  no mistake, I assure   you,' she said hotly. ‘I was Faisal's wife, and I  have a marriage   certificate to prove it.'

Zahir's brows lifted.  ‘My apologies-I had no idea. Your attire hardly   befits your position as  the wife of a sheikh. I assumed you were a   menial domestic.'

Hot  colour flooded Erin's face as she felt his eyes trail over her in a    scathing assessment of her appearance, and she silently cursed the   fact  that she hadn't taken the trouble to change into more presentable    clothes for her meeting with Gordon Straker. But, to be fair, she had    not expected to be confronted by an arrogant, devilishly sexy sheikh    who, astoundingly, happened to be Faisal's brother.                       
       
           



       


Her  temper, which had been simmering ever since he had spoken to her so    dismissively when she had brought in the tea tray, flared into life.   She  recalled how he had looked at her when she had first walked into   the  library, the way his eyes had slid boldly over her as if he were    mentally undressing her. Presumably he thought it acceptable to take a    servant to bed, but not for her to marry his brother, she thought    furiously.

She lifted her chin and met Zahir bin Kahlid al  Muntassir's gaze, her   grey eyes stormy and belligerent. But the  undisguised sexual heat in   his dark depths sent an answering quiver of  awareness down her spine,   and it was only when he finally broke eye  contact that she realised she   had been holding her breath.

‘My brother was estranged from his family for the past six years,' he explained coolly.

Erin's  insides churned at the word ‘family'. What family? Faisal had   insisted  that he had no relatives, and yet not only did it seem that he   had a  brother, but from the sound of it other family members also   existed. Why  had he lied to her? And if Faisal had been estranged from   his family  how had his brother known about his death? Her unease   intensified, and  solidified into fear when Zahir spoke again.

‘I was unaware,  until I received the letter Faisal instructed Mr   Straker to send after  his death, that my sister-in-law died three years   ago. Faisal made no  mention in that letter that he had remarried,' he   added pointedly, his  eyes flicking briefly over Erin. ‘I was also   unaware until two weeks ago  that my brother had a son-a child who is   now an orphan.'

He  flicked his gaze to Erin once more, his eyes as black and hard as    polished jet. ‘As Faisal's sole beneficiary, you are now a very wealthy    woman,' he drawled. ‘But I am not interested in the money, and you are    certainly welcome to this draughty monstrosity of a house,' he added    disparagingly, casting a brief glance around the library, where the  fire   burning in the grate did little to raise the temperature of the  room.

‘My  only interest is in my nephew, Kazim. I assume he has been well   cared  for since Faisal's death?' He overrode Erin's attempt to speak   and  announced coolly, ‘I have come to take him to his father's   homeland,  Qubbah, so that he may be brought up by his family. Please   inform his  nanny, or whoever is in charge of him, that I wish to meet   him, and ask  them to pack his personal possessions as quickly as   possible. I want to  leave before the weather gets any worse.'

Erin gaped at him, her  heart thumping erratically in her chest. ‘You're   not taking Kazim  anywhere,' she snapped, disbelief and outrage at his   high-handedness  causing a red mist of anger to swirl in front of her   eyes. ‘When I  married Faisal, I adopted Kazim as my own child. I am  his  legal parent,  and he is staying right here at Ingledean. This is  his  home,' she  finished fiercely, refusing to feel intimidated by  Zahir's  furious  expression.

Black brows lowered in a slashing frown. ‘Is this true?'

Once  again he'd addressed the solicitor, but Erin was fed up with being    treated as if she was part of the furniture, and she glared at him,   her  hands on her hips and her eyes blazing.

‘Damn right, it's true. Kazim is legally my son, and I won't allow you to take him. You have no rights to him.'

‘We'll see about that-or rather my lawyers will,' Zahir snapped icily.

His  jaw tightened. In all his thirty-six years he had never been spoken   to  in such a disrespectful manner-and certainly not by a woman. Under   his  father's rule Qubbah had gradually become a more liberal kingdom,   and he  himself had spent much of his life in the US and Europe, where   he  accepted that men and women were equals, but he was a prince and  he  was  used to being treated accordingly-to being fawned on, he  admitted   honestly, and to the unashamed adoration of women from both  cultures.


He  was not used to being yelled at by a flame-haired banshee, and the   fact  that Erin looked even more gorgeous when she was angry was no help   at  all. She was breathing hard, and he found himself fixated by the   frantic  rise and fall of her small breasts. Irritation, and another far   more  primitive emotion surged through him. He could not remember ever   wanting  a woman with such shaming urgency, but this woman was   definitely out of  bounds-Faisal's widow and, apparently, the adoptive   mother of his son.