At the Sheikh's Bidding(30)

‘I would like to know more about you,' he  told her, realising with a   jolt of surprise that it was the truth, and  not simply a ploy to take   his mind off his need to make love to her.  ‘You said last night that   you had been desperate to prevent Kazim  growing up in care, as you had   done after the death of your mother. How  old were you when she died?'                       
       
           



       

‘Ten,' Erin replied unemotionally.  She sensed that Zahir was waiting   for her to continue, but she had no  wish to revisit her past. She tried   to keep the memories of her  childhood locked away, but images floated   into her mind of the squalid  flat that had been her home for her  early  years, of her mother,  painfully thin, with long red hair that  hung lank  around her pinched,  white face. She still had a clear  picture in her  head of Jeannie  Maguire's unhealthy pallor, the dull  eyes that had  seemed sunken into  her skull, and her expression of  blank uninterest in  anything other than  her need for her next fix.

Zahir was staring at her, clearly  curious. ‘Was she killed in an   accident?' he queried, and the unexpected  gentleness in his voice   brought a lump to her throat.

He was a  prince who had grown up in a world of unimaginable luxury-he   could have  no comprehension of her deprived childhood, when her   mother's addiction  to hard drugs had meant Erin had frequently gone   hungry for both food  and basic care.

‘She was ill.' The social worker who'd been  appointed after Jeannie's   death had said that drug addiction was a  disease, but Zahir did not   need to know the sordid details. Like how her  mother had paid for the   drugs by prostituting herself.


‘And after she died, was there no one in the family who could have cared for you?'

‘She  didn't have a family.' Erin hesitated, and then added, ‘She told   me  once that she had run away from home when she was fifteen, after her    stepfather abused her. I don't know any other details, and Social    Services never traced any relatives who might have taken me in. I know    you suspect my motives for adopting Kazim, but I swear my only reason    was because I believed he had no one else who would love him. And to a    child love is more important than anything,' she finished huskily.

Zahir  felt something tug at his insides. He had been a similar age to   Erin  when his mother had left Qubbah, and he had never forgotten how   badly he  had missed her. He'd been lucky that he'd still had his father   and  brother and sisters around him, but Erin had had no one.

He had  convinced himself that she was a heartless gold-digger because   it had  suited him, he acknowledged grimly. It had been the only weapon   at his  disposal to fight his ferocious attraction to her. But what if   he had  been wrong about her? What if she really had adopted Kazim so   that she  could give him the love she had been denied during her   childhood? It  made his treatment of her seem even worse-particularly   the way he had  trapped her in a marriage she hadn't wanted, simply   because of his  selfish determination to take her to bed.

‘You told my father  that you loved Faisal,' he muttered, voicing the   thought that had been  gnawing at him. ‘But you must have been lying.   Because last night I  proved conclusively that you were never a proper   wife to him.'

‘I  did love him,' Erin insisted. ‘As a brother and my best friend.' She    gave a faint smile. ‘Faisal trusted me at a time when no one else   would.  I had been sacked from my first job as nanny to two little girls    because I'd refused to sleep with their father. Mr Fitzroy told   everyone  that he'd had to fire me because I flirted with him and begged   him for  an affair.' She wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘He was old   enough to be  my father, for heaven's sake. The employment agency   refused to keep me  on their books, and I was afraid I'd never get   another job. But Faisal  believed me. He employed me to look after his   baby son, and I'm so glad  he did-because I fell in love with Kazim at   first sight.'

The  silence that followed her last statement seemed to stretch   interminably,  but at last Zahir turned his head and stared at her. ‘So   Kazim really  is the reason you married me?' he said, in a casual tone   that disguised  an overwhelming urge to slam his fist into a punchball   for as many times  as it took to relieve the tight knot of anger that   had formed inside  him. ‘You were a sacrificial virgin in every sense,   weren't you?' he  murmured sardonically. ‘But even though I now accept   that your love for  Kazim is genuine, I will never let him go. You   accuse me of blackmailing  you into marriage, but last night you wanted   me, Erin-and, as I have  already said, desire is as good a basis for   marriage as anything.  Particularly when it is combined with our mutual   determination to give  Kazim a happy and loving childhood.'

He had walked back over to  the bed, and Erin gasped when he suddenly   whipped back the sheet and  swept her up into his arms. ‘We have a duty   to Kazim to make our  marriage work,' he told her as he strode out of   the tent. ‘I rushed you  last night, perhaps even frightened you.' He   frowned blackly at the  thought. ‘But I am prepared to be patient and   give you time to adjust to  married life.'                       
       
           



       

Despite the early hour the sun was hot, and Erin  blinked in its   brilliant glare when Zahir set her down on a flat rock by  the edge of   the pool. She wasn't sure what he wanted from her, and her  confusion   increased when he casually untied the cord around his waist  and let his   trousers fall to the floor.


‘What are you doing?'  she demanded in a strangled voice. Last night she   had been too absorbed  in the feel of his warm, satiny skin sliding   against hers to look at  him properly, but the sight of his body   revealed in all its muscled  glory beneath the bright sunlight made her   heart stop. She had never  even seen a man completely naked before, but   Zahir was a truly  magnificent specimen of masculinity, and she longed   to reach out and  stroke her fingers over his golden skin.

‘I told you I would let  you out of bed occasionally to swim,' he   drawled, amusement glinting in  his eyes at her stunned expression. He   turned and stepped into the  crystal clear pool, affording her a   tantalising glimpse of his taut  buttocks before he glanced back at her   and held out his hand, ‘Are you  going to join me?'

‘I didn't bring a swimsuit.' She knew she was  staring at him, but she   could not drag her eyes from the formidable  width of his chest, the   whorls of dark hair that arrowed down over his  flat stomach, and lower   still …

‘As you can see, neither did I.'  He saw her glance anxiously towards   the staff quarters and smiled. ‘No  one can see us through the trees,   and the servants will not disturb us.'  His smile faded and he added   seriously, ‘You're quite safe with me,  Erin. I gave my word that I will   not lay a finger on you and I will  abide by that promise.'

‘What a pity.' The words spilt from her  lips and she immediately   blushed scarlet, but when he tensed and gave  her a questioning stare   she held his gaze, her heart thudding at the  flare of undisguised   hunger in his eyes. He had always been honest about  his reasons for   marrying her: he wanted Kazim to live at the palace and  he wanted her   in his bed. Now it was time for her to be honest too.

He  had fascinated her from the moment she had met him at Ingledean, and    when he had made love to her last night she had proved that she was    utterly incapable of resisting him. He didn't love her, and she had no    expectations that he ever would now he'd stated that love was an    overrated emotion, but he desired her. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps    passion and their mutual love for Kazim was as good a basis as any for a    successful marriage?