She stood before him, a little more shaken, a touch more breathless, but grateful for another chance to be heard. ‘The twins need a parent...’ He did not even blink. ‘As I said, my role is to assist in the raising of the twins both here in the palace and on regular trips to London.’ Perhaps, Amy decided, it would be safer to start with less emotive practicalities. ‘I haven’t been home in over a year.’
‘Go on,’ he replied.
Amy took a deep breath, wondering how best to broach this sensitively, for he really was listening now. ‘The girls need more than I can give them—they...’ She struggled to continue for a moment. The twins needed love, and she had plenty of that for them, but it was a parent that those two precious girls needed most. Somehow she had to tell him that—had to remind him what Hannah had wanted for her daughters. ‘Until they turn four I’m supposed to assist in their raising. It was agreed that I have two evenings and two nights off a week, but instead—’
He interrupted her again and spoke in rapid Arabic to Patel. There was a brief conversation between the aides before he turned back to her. ‘Very well. Fatima will help you with the care of the children. You will have your days off from now on, and my staff will look into your annual leave arrangements.’
She couldn’t believe it—could not believe how he had turned things around. He had made it seem as if all she was here for was to discuss her holiday entitlements.
‘That will be all.’
‘No!’ This time she did shout, but her voice did not waver—on behalf of the twins, Amy was determined to be heard. ‘That isn’t the point I was trying to make. I am to assist—my job is to assist the parents in the raising of the children, not to bring them up alone. I would never have accepted the role otherwise.’ She wouldn’t have. Amy knew that. She had thought she was entering a loving family—not one where children, or rather female children, were ignored. ‘When Queen Hannah interviewed me...’
Emir’s face paled—his dark skin literally paled in the blink of an eye—and there was a flash of pain across his haughty features at the mention of his late wife. It was as if her words were ice that he was biting down on and he flinched. But almost instantaneously the pain dispersed, anger replacing it.
He stood. He did not need to, for already she was silent, already she had realised the error of her ways. From behind his desk Emir rose to his impressive height and the whole room was still and silent. No one more so than Amy, for Emir was an imposing man and not just in title. He stood well over six foot and was broad shouldered, toned. There was the essence of a warrior to him—a man of the desert who would never be tamed. But Emir was more than a warrior, he was a ruler too—a fierce ruler—and she had dared to talk back at him, had dared to touch on a subject that was most definitely, most painfully, closed.
‘Leave!’
He roared the single word and this time Amy chose to obey his command, for his black eyes glittered with fury and the scar that ran through his left eyebrow was prominent, making his features more savage. Amy knew beyond doubt that she had crossed a line. There were so many lines that you did not cross here in Alzan, so many things that could not be said while working at the palace, but to speak of the late Queen Hannah, to talk of happier times, to bring up the past with King Emir wasn’t simply speaking out of turn, or merely crossing a line—it was a leap that only the foolish would take. Knowing she was beaten, Amy turned to go.
‘Not you!’ His voice halted her exit. ‘The rest of you are to leave.’
Amy turned around slowly, met the eyes of an angry sheikh king. She had upset him, and now she must face him alone.
‘The nanny is to stay.’
ISBN: 9781460309964
A TASTE OF THE FORBIDDEN
Copyright © 2013 by Carole Mortimer
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
A Taste of the Forbidden Page 18
