At the Sheikh's Bidding(36)

He needed Jahmela, but Erin's  unreasonable dislike of her meant that he   could not speak of his plans.  To his surprise he found that he wanted   to share his dreams for Qubbah  with Erin. But the only time they had   alone together was in bed, and in  the aftermath of sex the silence   between them had grown increasingly  tense. His desire for her had not   lessened since their marriage, but he  was sick of their soulless   coupling, and for the past few nights had  simply left her to her fake   sleep and kept to his side of the bed.

Would  she stay, or would she abandon her son and go-as his mother had   done?  He told himself that he didn't give a damn. He would keep Kazim,   and he  did not foresee any problems replacing Erin in his bed. For the   past six  weeks he had worked eighteen-hour days and spent every   available moment  of free time with his father. But mercifully the King   had made a good  recovery-so why did Zahir feel as though the weight of   the world was  sitting on his shoulders?

He was suddenly aware that the children  had finished their dance and   everyone was waiting for his response.  Erin had turned her head to him,   frowning at his inattention, and he  quickly clapped his hands in   applause. Once the dancers had filed out of  the marquee, his personal   assistant Omran appeared at his side and  informed him that a group of   local potters had brought their best work  for his gracious inspection.   Stifling a sigh, he led the royal party out  into the blazing sunshine.



The garden party continued  all afternoon, and Zahir was not in the best   of moods when he strode  back to the palace. He suddenly realised that   he was too far ahead and  slowed his pace, waiting for Erin to catch  up  with him. He frowned when  he noted how pale she looked beneath her   wide-brimmed hat. She made no  attempt to speed up, and the dejected   droop of her shoulders fuelled his  impatience.

‘I appreciate that an afternoon spent admiring  traditional crafts and   customs is not likely to top your list of  exciting activities, but must   you look as though you've swallowed  poison?' he grated, when she   glanced at him listlessly.

‘I'm tired,' she replied shortly. ‘And I smiled so much this afternoon that my jaw aches.'

‘You  have my sympathy, kalila.' His tone was laced with sarcasm. ‘But   as my  wife and consort it is your duty to accompany me to such events.'

‘I'm  fully aware of my duties, and I have never refused to fulfil them.   Not  even when you crawl into bed at two in the morning,' Erin  snapped,   blushing furiously when Zahir gave a derisive laugh.                       
       
           



       

‘No, you  have never failed to lie back and think of … Well, I'm not sure   what you  think of in bed, but recently I've felt like I'm making love   to an  automaton.'


‘Perhaps if you dragged yourself away from your beautiful advisor and came to bed earlier, you might find me less tired.'

Zahir shrugged his shoulders dismissively. ‘You are always tired lately.'

‘Well, I'm sorry if my performance between the sheets isn't up to scratch.'

Erin's  tone was icy, but Zahir glimpsed the sheen of tears in her eyes   and  something tugged at his insides. He hadn't meant the words as a   jibe-she  really did look tired. There were faint bruises beneath her   eyes, and  her skin and hair seemed to lack their usual lustre. She'd   lost weight  too; her fitted green silk jacket emphasised her new   slenderness, and  her fragile air triggered his concern.

‘Erin-' He bit back an oath when he stepped closer and she immediately jerked away from him.

‘I'm going to sit by the fountains for a while. It's cooler there,' she said flatly.

‘Don't you want to give Kazim his bath?'

She  shook her head, and he sensed she was struggling for self-control.   ‘Not  tonight. He'd rather have you anyway. You're his number one  person  at  the moment.'

‘It's a boy thing.' He hated tears, but hers were  getting to him,   especially as she was trying so hard to blink them away.  ‘I   hero-worshipped my father at that age too.' He watched her nod and  turn   away, but as she walked along the path towards the ornamental pools   he  called her name, and she looked back warily. ‘This evening's banquet    to celebrate my father's return to health won't finish late. We'll  have   an early night, and if you are still tired we could just watch a  film   and relax.' He hesitated, and then added quietly, ‘The past few  weeks   have been difficult for both of us.'

Erin watched him walk up the  palace steps, then stumbled along the path   into a secluded area of the  garden where the sound of water splashing   into azure pools usually  soothed her emotions. But after the  unexpected  gentleness of Zahir's  last statement nothing could prevent  the tears  from spilling down her  face, and she sat on the wall and  wept at the  utter hopelessness of  loving a man who had made her his  wife but who  treated her as his  mistress.

Eventually she blew her nose and scrubbed her eyes, and  told herself it   was her own fault that her head was throbbing. Hadn't  she learned as a   young child that crying never solved anything? She  didn't understand   why she felt so over-emotional. Yesterday she'd cried  when Kazim had   told her he loved her, and today she'd cried because  Zahir hadn't and   never would. She'd walked into her marriage with her  eyes wide open,   she reminded herself sternly, and Zahir had always been  honest about   his reasons for marrying her.

Footsteps sounded on  the path, and her heart sank when she looked up   and saw Jahmela al  Nasser walking towards her. Zahir's stunning advisor   was the last person  she wanted to see right now.

‘Erin! What are you doing out here?  I thought you would be hosting the   garden party with Zahir.' Jahmela's  eyes narrowed on the faint streaks   of tears on Erin's face. ‘Oh,  dear-not a lovers' tiff?'

‘Of course not,' Erin replied stiffly. ‘The party has finished and Zahir is with Kazim.'

‘Even  so, you look tired. But I suppose that is to be expected while   Zahir's  temporary fascination with you remains,' Jahmela drawled,   staring down  at Erin with an expression of haughty disdain.

‘Temporary?' Erin felt her temper stir, but forced herself to remain calm.

Jahmela  and her father had remained as guests at the palace since Zahir   had  taken over as ruler of Qubbah, and during the past weeks she   hadn't  missed an opportunity to make Erin feel ill-educated and   inadequate. Her  spiteful barbs had always been carefully worded, and   her hostility  cloaked beneath exquisite politeness, but now the knives   were out and  Erin mentally braced herself for battle.


‘I am Zahir's wife-that makes our relationship rather more than temporary, wouldn't you say?'

The  beautiful Arab girl gave Erin a condescending smile. ‘Not when you    consider that Zahir only married you so he could be a father to Kazim.    Under Qubbah law, when a marriage ends custody of any children is    automatically awarded to the husband. The King has assured my father    that Zahir will soon divorce you, as he has always planned, and then he    will be free to marry me, honouring an arrangement made between our  two   families several years ago.'                       
       
           



       

Despite the warmth of the  early-evening sunshine, Erin shivered.   ‘You're talking nonsense,' she  said firmly, striving to sound confident   despite the sudden lurch of her  heart. She was perfectly aware of why   Zahir had married her, but he had  given no hint that he wanted a   divorce. ‘Zahir told me he was never  engaged to you.' She lifted her   chin and glared at Jahmela, trying to  ignore the sick feeling in the   pit of her stomach.

‘He wasn't,' Jahmela agreed, looking surprised. ‘I was engaged to Faisal-Zahir was engaged to Maryam.'