Magnates: Desert Prince, Bride of Innocence

Jasim skated a teasing forefinger down over the back of her tautly clenched hand. ‘Never is a long time, aziz. Who can tell what the future holds?’

Elinor snatched away her hand. ‘Certainly nothing of that nature, I assure you!’ she rebutted furiously, squirming from the suspicion that he was accustomed to provocative displays in the bedroom and trying to encourage her to make an effort in the same direction.

Blissfully unaware of the tension in the air, Sami tugged off a sock and chuckled while he explored his bare toes. Elinor compressed her lips. Not for worlds would she have admitted that the promise of Jasim’s appreciation lit a wicked little flame of longing inside her, while the prospect of dressing down in wispy nothings for his benefit had a decadent allure that carried sudden shocking appeal for her starved senses.

Instead she sensibly concentrated her mind on the packing she still had to do and the wisdom of getting Sami to bed soon to compensate for the early hour of their departure the following morning. Tomorrow she would be arriving in a foreign country and she knew that she would need all her wits about her as well as a good deal of adaptability to handle that challenge …

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘YOU wish to know what you should wear to meet my father?’ Jasim echoed with a frown of surprise. ‘He won’t take fright at the sight of your legs, if that’s what you mean. There is no dress code, although I would aim at the conservative.’

Elinor vanished back into a small cabin on Jasim’s private jet where she had been rifling through a suitcase, and wished she had made her mind up about what to wear before she travelled. Jasim certainly wasn’t much help! With a sigh she shook out a blue silk dress and jacket, light enough to keep her cool and plain enough in style to suit any occasion. Sami was fast asleep in his sky cot, all the nonsense drummed out of him after an energetic and noisy hour of play with his father. Elinor was still shaken by the recollection of Jasim, careless of the damage he might be causing to his immaculate and beautifully tailored designer suit, getting down on his knees to play hide-and-seek around the seats in the main cabin with his enthusiastic son. It was obvious to her that Jasim already had a huge wow factor for Sami. Without any encouragement from her they were bonding like mad.

The diamond ring on her wedding finger caught her attention and she stiffened. It was the very ring with which Murad had once proposed to her mother, and which she had recently sold. Jasim had returned the magnificent diamond cluster, together with the wedding ring that he had given her, when she’d boarded the jet, insisting that she start wearing both.

‘But why?’ she had argued, uncomfortable with the engagement ring’s sheer screaming opulence and the unhappy history that related it to her mother in her own mind.

‘That ring is always worn by the Crown Prince’s bride.’

‘Your brother didn’t give it to his wife,’ Elinor could not resist reminding him.

Jasim gave her a grim look. ‘But he should have done. It was hers by right.’

‘You still don’t believe what I told you about my mother and Murad, do you?’ Elinor prompted tightly.

‘I’m sure my father will confirm the story … if it is true,’ Jasim completed in a sceptical tone that set her teeth on edge. ‘Your own father neglected to mention it.’

Astonished by that casual comment, Elinor snapped, ‘When did you meet my father?’

‘Soon after you staged your vanishing act. Naturally I traced your father to see if you had been in touch with him.’ Jasim recalled the obsessively tidy house and the absence of a single photograph of Elinor. He had not been impressed by the older man’s lack of concern for his only child. ‘He promised to contact me if he heard from you.’

‘My father would never have acknowledged that his first wife enjoyed a romance with one of his students before their marriage. It always annoyed him, particularly as their marriage wasn’t very successful. Did he tell you how stupid I was in the academic stakes?’

Jasim froze. ‘No—why would he have done?’

‘Because I was a major disappointment in that field.’

‘When you disappeared, I was worried sick about your welfare,’ Jasim admitted flatly. ‘Enquiries were made at all the agencies dealing with nannies—’

‘While I was pregnant I took an office skills course as retraining. I thought the hours would suit me better after my baby was born. My flatmates became my friends,’ she confided. ‘Alissa and Lindy were marvellous.’

‘I am grateful that you had their support but had you given me the choice,’ Jasim breathed, ‘I would have been there for you.’

As the private jet landed Elinor noticed the crowd of people outside the airport. ‘Why are all those people standing outside?’

‘Our arrival is quite an event. Sami’s existence has been formally announced and it is probably safe to say that he is currently the most popular baby in Quaram,’ Jasim shared with an amused smile. ‘My brother’s death was a great shock to everyone and the continuity of the royal line means a great deal to our people.’

Several rows of smartly dressed soldiers teamed with a military band, as well as a smiling collection of dignitaries, greeted them on their descent from the plane. A stirring musical score backed the formal welcome while just about everyone craned their necks to get a look at the baby in Elinor’s arms. Rested from his nap, Sami, his big brown eyes sparkling, was looking around with great interest. From a polite distance and only at an affirmative nod from Jasim, cameras flashed to capture the royal party.

A limousine decorated with flags and ribbons collected them from the runway. Surrounded by police vehicles and preceded by motorcycle outriders, they were wafted from the airport into the city and port of Muscar. Everything was much more contemporary and western than Elinor had somehow expected and she scolded herself for not having done more research on her future home. The wide streets of the city were packed with people waving at the cavalcade as they drove past. Jasim gave her a running commentary, directing her attention from the stunning ultra-modern skyscrapers and landscaped green spaces that marked the business district to a conservation area, known as the Old City, where ancient mosques, souks packed with craftsmen and listed buildings were proving a strong draw to the tourist industry.

Soon after he pointed out the main government offices, he added quietly, ‘There is the palace.’

The limousine rounded a vast fountain before turning down a huge imposing drive lined with trees. Gardeners were industriously watering the lush lawns. Ahead loomed a vast structure with a very strange-looking wavy roof that was the ultimate in avant-garde design.

‘It’s … er … very unusual,’ Elinor remarked.

‘Murad commissioned it and it won several design awards. I think it looks more like a hotel than a home and my father detests it, but this will be our home when we are in Muscar. I still believe that the old palace outside the city could have been successfully renovated.’

A throng of people were waiting outside the imposing front entrance. Jasim explained that the crowd was composed of the household staff and he took charge of Sami to make it easier for Elinor to get out of the limo. Perspiration beaded her short upper lip at the same moment that she left the coolness of the car. The heat from the sun beat down on her. Within seconds she felt hot and uncomfortable. She was also starting to feel rather overwhelmed by the level of interest and attention and exceedingly nervous about meeting Jasim’s father, King Akil. All the women hung over Sami with intense interest and admiration while Jasim translated the appreciative comments. It crossed her mind that Murad would have been less gracious and patient with such humble employees.

It was wonderful to step into the air-conditioned cool and shade of the palace. It was built on a very grand scale: the vast main hallway, walled and floored in pale gleaming marble, would have passed muster at an airport. She lingered below the refreshing blast of the air-conditioning until her silk dress no longer felt as though it was sticking to her skin and she had rediscovered her energy.

Jasim rested questioning dark eyes on her. ‘Are you feeling all right?’

‘It’s incredibly hot out there,’ she muttered apologetically, wishing she could retrieve the foolish words almost as soon as she spoke them, for what else could it be but very hot in a desert kingdom in mid-summer?

‘It will take time for you to get used to the higher temperatures. Do you want to take a break before you make my father’s acquaintance?’ Jasim queried.

‘No, let’s just go ahead now.’ Elinor swallowed back the additional words ‘and get it over with,’ which would have been less than tactful. But she really wasn’t looking forward to the coming meeting. She was the pregnant foreign wife Jasim had married behind his father’s back, a wife who had then disappeared for well over a year. She could hardly expect King Akil to look on a humble nanny with that history as a worthy match for his only surviving son.

They trekked a long way through the building. Footsteps and voices echoed to create a noisy backwash of sound. Eventually they reached a set of double doors presided over by armed guards. The doors were thrown wide, an announcement made by a hovering manservant, and finally they were ushered into the royal presence.

Elinor was shocked by her first view of Jasim’s father, who was resting on an old-fashioned chaise longue that seemed ludicrously out of place against the extreme modernity of his surroundings. White-haired, clad in traditional robes and as thin as a rail, King Akil was much older than she had expected and he looked very frail. Formality ruled as greetings were quietly exchanged and then Jasim broke the ice by carrying Sami over for his grandfather’s examination. An immediate smile chased the gravity from the older man’s drawn face.

‘He is a fine handsome boy with bright eyes,’ the King commented approvingly to Elinor in heavily accented English. ‘You named him after my great-grandfather as well. You have excellent taste.’

Elinor went pink with pleasure at that unexpected compliment. She had picked her son’s name from the potted history of Quaram on the royal website. Sami’s much-revered ancestor had been a renowned scholar and diplomatist credited with uniting his country’s warring tribes. She didn’t bother to admit that she had also chosen that particular name because it sounded conveniently like an English one—Sam—that she thought suited her child.

With an imperious dip of his head, the King switched back to his own language and engaged his son in dialogue. As the older man spoke at length and with much solemnity, Jasim seemed to become a good deal tenser and his responses sounded a little terse. Indeed Elinor could not help but notice the rise of dark blood to Jasim’s cheekbones and the revealing clenching of his lean brown hands and guessed that it was a challenge for him to retain his temper. Momentarily, the discussion or possibly what could have been an unusually polite dispute halted while a servant was summoned to escort Elinor and Sami from the room.

Full of fierce curiosity though she was, Elinor was nonetheless relieved to escape the uptight atmosphere. Even so, having noticed the extreme formality that reigned between father and a son, she was wondering why the relationship between the King and Jasim was so strained. An instant later, she was furious with herself for being so obtuse. Jasim had married her without his father’s permission and her behaviour as a runaway wife could hardly have added gloss to her reputation. Most probably she was the root cause of the trouble between the two men!

A strikingly attractive young woman in an elegant black and white designer dress was walking towards her. A diamond brooch that Elinor thought was rather flashy for daytime wear glittered at her neckline. She paused to admire Sami.

‘Your son is adorable. I am Laila, Jasim’s cousin, and I have been asked to help you settle in,’ the brunette announced, pearly white teeth glinting between raspberry glossed lips as she smiled. She had a wonderful head of thick black silky hair that curved round her heart-shaped face and fell down to her shoulders. Almond-shaped, slightly tilted brown eyes gave her an exotic quality and the heavy lids lent her face a voluptuous aspect that Elinor thought men would find highly attractive.

‘Thank you. This is a rather new environment for me.’

Laila led her down a corridor. ‘I imagine it is and you must be dreading making so many adjustments.’

Elinor tensed. ‘No, I’m not quite that intimidated,’ she parried.

‘Life in the royal family can be very constrained,’ Laila continued with an expressive roll of her eyes. ‘When I’m in London I can do whatever I like, but it’s different here. The King runs a very tight ship.’

Reluctant to get involved in that sort of conversation with a stranger, Elinor murmured instead, ‘Murad’s death must have hit your family very hard.’

‘Jasim already enjoys more popular support than his older brother. Murad’s extravagance offended many and his reputation was poor. You and the little boy are definitely the jewel in Jasim’s future crown,’ Laila quipped. ‘A son at first go and when you were only just married—congratulations! We’re all impressed to death.’