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.'