He gave a harsh laugh at the stunned disbelief in her eyes, and captured her chin between his fingers, forcing her face up to his. ‘My only consolation is that you burn with the same fever, kalila. This is just an attention-seeking exercise, isn't it?' he accused her contemptuously. ‘I warned you I would be busy once we returned to the palace, but you resent the fact that you are not my most important consideration. In case you've forgotten, my father is lying in the hospital wing recovering from a heart attack,' he bit out furiously. ‘And you have no comprehension of my responsibilities as ruler of Qubbah.'
He felt as though he had stepped back in time and was a small boy again, listening to his mother accusing his father of selfishly pursuing his own interests and not paying her enough attention. His parents had married after a whirlwind affair, and the cracks in their relationship had appeared early on-caused, he was sure, by his mother's unrealistic expectations of love. But love played no part in his marriage to Erin, and she needed to understand the ground rules.
‘My life is bound by my duty to the kingdom of Qubbah and my responsibilities to my brother's son. And make no mistake,' he warned her harshly, ‘they take equal precedence in my priorities. But if you want more of my attention, kalila, you can have it.'
‘Zahir!' Erin gave a cry of alarm as he swept her up and flung her over his shoulder, his hand clamped firmly on her bottom as he strode into the bedroom. Her temper exploded and she beat her fists on his shoulders. ‘How dare you? I demand that you put me down … '
Her feet briefly touched the floor and he spun her round, tugged her zip down her spine and removed her dress before she had time to catch her breath. Her bra went the same way before he lifted her again and threw her onto the bed as if she was a rag doll, his eyes glittering with a mixture of anger and sexual hunger that made Erin's stomach dip.
‘At night I'm happy to give you all the attention you could possibly want,' he growled, his shoes, trousers and shirt hitting the floor with barely controlled savagery until he stood in his silk boxers. ‘This is the only bed you'll ever sleep in.' The boxers joined the rest of his clothes, revealing his powerful, unashamedly aroused body in all its glory. ‘But I wouldn't bank on sleeping for many hours yet.'
Erin stared up at him, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to control the wild excitement that was pounding through her veins. She was conscious that she was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny lace panties and the priceless pearl necklace, but before she could protest Zahir dragged her knickers down her legs and pushed her thighs apart, exposing her to his heated gaze.
‘Pearls suit you,' he drawled lazily, lowering himself onto her so that Erin could feel the solid ridge of his erection stab the soft flesh of her stomach. ‘Whenever you wear that necklace to state functions in future I will have a vision of you wearing it as you are now-naked and ready for me.'
She wished she could deny his taunt, but his fingers were probing between her legs and he laughed as he slid into her welcoming wetness. Her weakness for him was humiliating, but desire outstripped her pride and she lifted her hips while he explored her with a merciless skill that set her on fire. He took her to the edge, once, twice, creating a whole new set of sensations when he tormented her nipples with his wicked tongue, and only when she was writhing and sobbing his name did he relent, penetrating her with deep, hard thrusts.
Again and again he drove into her, in a pagan rhythm that took her to a place where nothing mattered but Zahir and her desperate need for him to never, ever stop this wild dance. They climaxed simultaneously, a violent explosion of uncontrollable passion that drew a sharp cry from her as he kept her hovering on the brink and then thrust one final time, pumping into her while her muscles clenched around him and her entire body shuddered with sexual ecstasy.
And when Zahir's breathing finally became less ragged and he rolled off her, the slumberous heat in his eyes told her that they had only just begun. He had amazing stamina, and his high sex-drive would demand satisfaction several times before he would allow her to sleep. But of course that was why he had married her, Erin acknowledged bleakly as she rolled onto her side away from him, blinking back tears of self-loathing. Sex on tap with his dutiful wife. And in return she'd got Kazim and a life of unimaginable wealth and luxury.
He had never offered her love and she hadn't expected it-so why did she yearn for him to draw her back into his arms and kiss her with tenderness rather than passion?
She could no longer deny that she had fallen in love with him the moment she'd seen him at Ingledean, totally and irrevocably, and she had been fooling herself that he meant nothing to her. But it was ridiculous to wish for the moon, she told herself sternly, swallowing hard so that he would not guess she was crying.
She felt the mattress dip as he shifted closer, and held her breath when he traced his hand over her hip and then up to curve around one breast. She wished she could control her acute awareness of him, and despised herself for not being stronger. But she knew full well that she would not refuse him-and so did he.
CHAPTER NINE
ZAHIR shifted fractionally in his chair and nodded encouragingly to the group of school children who were performing a dance on the palace lawn. It had been a busy week, with four state functions including today's garden party. But the past six weeks since he had taken his father's place as ruler of the kingdom had been the same-an endless round of receptions and dinners and meetings with government officials and visiting dignitaries.
It was little wonder that Erin had grown increasingly quiet and withdrawn, he brooded grimly. And although she was smiling at the children, he knew that once she was alone with him she would revert to looking bored and unhappy. It was a look he remembered from his boyhood. His mother's expression of utter tedium and her undisguised frustration with the constraints of palace life were etched on his memory-as were her frequent rows with his father.
Not that Erin voiced her dissatisfaction, but her silent resentment when he made love to her every night evoked an irritating feeling of guilt that he had trapped her in a life she hated. Clearly his optimism during the first weeks of their marriage had been premature. His duties meant that he barely saw her each day, but at night she responded to him with an eagerness that left his body satiated with an excess of pleasure. He felt secretly pleased by her decision to learn Arabic, and he congratulated himself for choosing a bride who was happy to devote her days to their adopted son and her nights to pleasing him.
So where had it gone wrong? Why had Erin suddenly started to pretend she was asleep when he came to bed-which admittedly was often past midnight, by the time he'd finished his discussions with members of his advisory committee. These were exciting times for Qubbah-or would be once he'd finalised his plans for new roads, schools and hospitals, and managed to convince his father and other key elders from the government of the benefits of foreign investment. Jahmela al Nasser's advice was proving invaluable-even if she did talk for hours and drag each meeting on well past the time he'd hoped to finish.