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At the Sheikh's Bidding(6)

By:Chantelle Shaw

       
           



       

He  turned his attention back to Kazim, and this time his smile was   genuine.  ‘I brought a present for you,' he told the little boy, his   heart  softening when Kazim's eyes lit up with excitement. ‘It's a toy   camel,  just like the real camels that live in the desert. How would you   like to  come to my home in the desert and ride on one?'



Erin  pushed open the library door to see Kazim staring at Zahir,   utterly  spellbound. Zahir was crouched low, so that his face was on a   level with  Kazim's, and Erin was instantly struck by the familial   likeness between  the man and the child. Kazim shared his uncle's Arabic   colouring and  silky black hair. An image filtered into her mind of  the  two of them  astride a camel, Zahir's arms around Kazim as the  animal  carried them  across golden sands.

The picture in her head was so real that she  drew a sharp breath.   Kazim's home was here at Ingledean, with her, she  reminded herself,   fighting the sudden surge of panic that gripped her.  She turned to   Alice, who was watching Zahir with a dreamy expression on  her face that   fuelled Erin's irritation. Okay, so the man looked like  Lawrence of   Arabia, and his voice was no longer cold and haughty but as  warm and   sensuous as molten syrup-but that was no reason to drool over  him, she   thought crossly.

‘Erin-I got a camel.' Kazim finally  noticed her and ran across the   room, waving the toy excitedly at her.  ‘I'm going to ride on one-a real   one,' he added emphatically, his brown  eyes glowing with  anticipation.  ‘Can we go to the desert now?'

Out  of the mouths of babes! Erin managed to simultaneously smile at the    toddler and glare at Zahir, who had straightened to his full height   once  more and dominated the room.

‘Not today, darling,' she murmured.  ‘The desert is a long way from   here.' She swung her gaze back to Zahir  and gave him a cool smile that   belied the frantic thudding of her heart.  ‘Gordon Straker was sensible   to leave before the weather worsens. I  suggest you do the same. I'm   sure you would prefer not to be stranded in  this "draughty monstrosity   of a house,'" she added sweetly. ‘Alice,  will you take Kazim to the   kitchen? It's time for his tea.'

‘Oh-right.' Alice looked faintly startled at Erin's brisk tone, but held out her hand to Kazim and led him from the room.

The  cook closed the door behind her, leaving Erin alone with Zahir, and   her  heart sank when she glanced at him and saw that his face had   hardened,  his eyes blazing with anger.

‘You would begrudge me even five minutes with my brother's child?' he demanded harshly. ‘Kazim is my flesh and blood-'

‘I  didn't know about you.' Erin quickly defended herself. ‘Faisal told   me  that neither he nor his first wife had any family. You must   understand  that your appearance here today has been a shock.' She bit   her lip, her  thoughts whirling around her brain. ‘When you say that   Kazim has family  in Qubbah-who are they, exactly?'

‘My father … ' Zahir paused; Erin  seemed genuinely shocked that Faisal   had a family. For some reason  Faisal had not told her that he was a   prince, nor that his son was heir  to the throne of Qubbah, but for now   he saw no reason to impart that  information. ‘My family have much  power  and influence in Qubbah,' he  informed her. ‘My father, Sheikh  Kahlid,  is eager to see his tenth  grandson. My three sisters are  married, and  have children who are  Kazim's cousins, and my father has  six siblings  who, together with their  husbands and wives and children,  make up a  large extended family.


‘Surely  you must see that it would be better for Kazim to be brought up   by his  real family, by relatives who will love him, who can teach him   of his  heritage and culture and who want only the best for him?' he   demanded  impatiently when Erin stared at him, stunned into silence by   the  revelation that Kazim had a huge family in Qubbah.

Kazim was  hers, she thought frantically, and no one could take him from   her.  Gordon Straker had said so. ‘I love him,' she said fiercely. ‘I   want  what is best for him. And I don't think that carting him off to    unfamiliar surroundings and a horde of people he's never met before    would be good for him right now. You have to believe that my only    concern is Kazim's welfare,' she continued, forcing herself to sound    calm, although she felt anything but when Zahir was prowling the room,    silent and menacing as a panther stalking its prey. ‘I don't know the    reason why Faisal was estranged from you and the rest of his family,  but   it must have been serious if he made no contact with you in six  years.   Kazim is a little boy who has lost both his parents, and he  needs the   security and stability of remaining here in the only home he  has ever   known. Perhaps when he is a bit older there could be some  contact,' she   offered hesitantly. You could visit … '                       
       
           



       

‘I don't intend that my  relationship with my brother's child will be   confined to the occasional  visit.' Zahir's icy scorn flayed her like a   whip. ‘Kazim belongs in  Qubbah, with his blood family, and that is   where I intend to take  him-with or without your approval.'

‘You can't.' Erin remembered  Gordon Straker's warning not to allow   Zahir to bully her, and she  squared her shoulders, refusing to cower   beneath his anger.

‘The word can't is not one I am familiar with,' he informed her imperiously.

He  wasn't joking, Erin realised shakily as she stared at his haughty    expression. She had a feeling that no one had ever crossed Sheikh Zahir    bin Kahlid al Muntassir in his life, and she did not relish being the    first.

‘Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to add it to your  vocabulary,'   she snapped. ‘Kazim is legally my son, and I intend to  follow Faisal's   wishes and bring him up here in England. I can see that  it would be   good for Kazim to meet his relatives,' she conceded huskily,  her voice   faltering fractionally at the prospect of sharing the little  boy with   strangers who, if Zahir's attitude was anything to go by, would    disapprove of her, ‘and I understand your father's desire to see his    grandson. For that reason I am prepared to allow him to visit Kazim.'

Prepared  to allow! Outrage robbed Zahir temporarily of his ability to   speak. No  one allowed members of the ruling family of Qubbah to do   anything. Their  power was absolute in the tradition-bound kingdom. And   as for being  dictated to by a woman! Changes were slowly happening in   his homeland,  and he recognised that there would have to be many more   if Qubbah did  not want to be left behind as the world moved through  the  twenty-first  century, but at present women had no status in  Qubbah,  and he was  infuriated by Erin's assumption that he would  meekly agree  to her rules.  Meek was not a word ever associated with  Prince Zahir bin  Kahlid al  Muntassir!

He glanced out of the window at the gathering dusk and  his jaw   hardened. He did not have time to stand here arguing. He  thought again   of his father, remembering the look of devastation on his  face when he   had broken the news of Faisal's death. Kazim was a  lifeline. He was   possibly the only person who could lift the King from  his despair.   Nothing would prevent Zahir from taking the child home to  the kingdom   that he would one day rule.

‘My nephew belongs in  Qubbah,' he stated coldly as he crossed to the   desk and reached into the  inner pocket of his jacket. He could feel   Erin's eyes on him, but he  refused to look at her. He did not want to   picture her with Faisal, did  not want to admit to the corrosive   jealousy that burned in his gut when  he imagined them together. He was   furious with himself that he could not  banish the fantasy of making   love to her so passionately that he drove  all thoughts of his brother   from her mind.