The Sheikh's Secret Son

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The Sheikh's Secret Son Page 11

by Maggie Cox


  They would all need a little privacy for a while...at least until the official wedding took place.

  His second phone call had been to his brother. He had told him they needed to have a serious talk, and Xavier had responded with an unusual equanimity in his voice.

  ‘I will very much look forward to that, my brother. I, too, have some important things I need to tell you.’

  He had sounded almost eager at the prospect, and it had made Zafir wonder at the reason for this new affability.

  For today’s ceremony Zafir had relinquished his traditional garb for a tailored tuxedo, and Darcy wore a simply cut classic cream suit trimmed with lace that her mother had bought her. He was glad that he hadn’t insisted that he buy her a dress, because it seemed important to both women that they’d had their way. Darcy had her golden hair styled in an elegant chignon, with a delicate crystal and seed pearl headband to complete the stunning look.

  In Zafir’s eyes, she had never looked more like a princess than right at this moment. He was excited at the prospect of introducing his new bride to his people when they had their official wedding in Zachariah, and was already considering making the day a public holiday in honour of the occasion. But, more important to him than that, he could hardly wait to introduce his son and heir.

  He was truly looking forward to getting to know his little boy. One day Sami was going to be a ruler they would all be proud of.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SITTING BESIDE HER son in the plush leather seats of a private jet, Darcy felt like pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Once upon a time, when her love for Zafir had been new and fresh, she’d often fantasised about them being together for good. However, in her private moments, before everything had gone so wrong, she’d also known that realistically it wasn’t likely to happen.

  How could it? He was an important person in the world while she...well, she was a million miles away from inhabiting such an elevated sphere as he did.

  It had been more than painful to contemplate a life without him...akin to being flayed alive... And then had come another twist in the tale and fate had given her Sami. Once again, her world had been utterly shaken.

  And when she’d finally set eyes on Zafir again, after so long trying to contact him, having plunged from the wall of his house in her urgency to see him, their bittersweet reunion had left her reeling. Even now Darcy was still struggling to come to terms with the way events had transpired. Not least, she thought, contemplating the diamond-encrusted gold wedding band on her finger, the fact that she and her illustrious ex-boss were now married and heading out to his home in Zachariah.

  ‘I like this plane, Mummy. It’s cool.’

  ‘What?’ Lost in thought, she flushed when she realised that both her son and his father were studying her intently. ‘Yes, it is, darling. Aren’t we lucky to get to travel like this? Not everyone is so fortunate.’

  Falling silent for a moment, the tousle-haired little boy turned his gaze on Zafir. ‘Do you really live in the desert?’

  Having forgone the traditional robes he usually wore, her husband was wearing dark jeans that emphasised his taut-muscled thighs teamed with an ebony-coloured cashmere sweater. Whatever he wore, the man always looked effortlessly classy. She supposed it must be in the blood.

  Leaning forward with a conspiratorial smile, he replied, ‘I do, indeed... My family and I have our own kingdom.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Sami’s big brown eyes were on stalks.

  ‘It’s our own private country.’

  ‘Are there any dragons there?’

  His father chuckled. ‘I’m sorry to say we don’t have any dragons. The main creatures we have are camels and horses. But nevertheless it is still a magical place, my son.’

  The fact that Zafir so often referred to Sami as his son when speaking to him made her insides somersault. The little boy had very quickly taken to the idea that the Sheikh was his father, and she found it touching that he’d accepted him so readily. At least Darcy didn’t have any worries on that score.

  ‘He has a very creative imagination,’ her husband remarked, and his twinkling glance at her made her feel as if she was being massaged with some heavenly warm oil. ‘It clearly must come from his mother.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know—I’d say his father is no slouch in that department either.’

  ‘What’s a slouch, Mummy?’ Sami asked, yawning.

  She bit her lip at the amused, knowing gleam in the Arabian’s eyes.

  That first time they’d made love he’d introduced her to the art like a connoisseur. He had ensured his every touch was exquisite and meaningful on the magical road to her fulfilment, even though he’d been as passionately hungry as she was. He might not have known at the time that she was a virgin, but he’d treated her like one.

  He was by no means a selfish lover. Many times that night he’d conveyed by both word and deed that it wasn’t something he ever took lightly...that it was important to him that his lover was at the very least treated like a princess.

  Darcy had never forgotten that night. She couldn’t help anticipating that her wedding night would be equally unforgettable...

  As though reading her mind, Zafir asked lazily, ‘Are you tired? It’s been quite a week for you, what with one thing and another. No doubt you must be looking forward to going to bed?’

  Knowing the hot colour in her face must easily betray her, she said quickly, ‘I’m not tired, but I know who is.’

  She could already sense the way her son’s warm weight was slumping in her arms and she was glad for him. It would make the transition to this new country a little easier for them both if he got some sleep.

  * * *

  They arrived in the balmy temperatures of early evening. The warm air was laden with the exotic and mysterious perfumes of the desert, and anyone who wasn’t a local would only have to shut their eyes and breathe it in to know they must be in an ancient landscape—a land where magic and mystery still predominated.

  Those attributes were undoubted blessings, in Zafir’s eyes. They were equally as powerful as its history, he believed.

  On the plane he had given Darcy the news that his mother was sending a royal escort to meet them, and he hoped that she wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by a procedure that for him and his family was commonplace. This was one of the privileges she would have to get used to, he’d told her.

  But he’d instructed his retainers that their arrival home shouldn’t be made known to the public immediately, as his family had some major readjustments to make first. This was a new situation for all of them, and they would all have to learn to adapt.

  As Zafir guided Sami down the steps of the plane, then returned to assist his wife, he immediately sensed her anxiety. Although the white stretch limousine that stood waiting on the Tarmac would be impressive by anyone’s standards, no doubt it might be daunting to anybody not used to experiencing such an elite way of travelling. It would be further confirmation to Darcy that her life really had begun to change for the better.

  The chauffeur had already opened the car doors, Zafir saw, and now the dependable Rashid—who’d been sitting at the back of the plane to give him and his family some privacy—dutifully joined him.

  ‘I will see to the luggage, Your Highness.’

  ‘Thank you, Rashid.’

  Having undertaken the task, his loyal retainer transported the baggage out of the plane and, with the chauffeur’s assistance, deposited them in the boot.

  Once inside the vehicle, the small family sat together—that was until Sami asked if he could sit on one of the seats that hugged the sides, in order to look out of the windows. Although tinted on the outside, from the inside everything was seen just as though the panes were clear glass.

  ‘You may sit wherever you want, Sami. I can sit next to you, if you like, then if you have any questions about what you see, you can ask me,’ his father told him.

  ‘Will we see some pyramids?’

 
; Zafir’s lips curved in amusement. He was already enchanted by his son. ‘No. We don’t have them in this country. But we do have other spectacular sights to see. This is a land as old as time itself, and its history is remarkable.’ As he said this, the great pride in his voice was unmistakable.

  As they progressed towards his desert home, very soon leaving the main city behind, Zafir expelled a relieved sigh. In truth, he was glad to be getting away from the rest of humanity for a while—glad to be pulling up the drawbridge and just being with his family. Marrying Darcy and becoming acquainted with his son had made him realise that this was what he had always longed for...to have a family of his own.

  But it was Darcy’s presence that preoccupied him the most. After so long apart, he liked to think he was starting to get to know her again. Yet she never failed to surprise him. It was her beauty that had first attracted him, but she was so much more than that. He’d since discovered that she was fiercely loyal to those she loved, was hard-working, funny, and quite often contrary. There would never be a dull moment when they were together and he’d be a fool to take her for granted.

  She was extraordinarily intuitive about what to wear too. Today, in deference to meeting his mother, she was wearing a very graceful mocha-coloured maxi-dress with a slim white jacket. Her pretty hair had been fashioned into plaits that she’d styled into a corona and fastened with an elegant gold clip that he’d bought her. She looked young and ravishing—just like a fairytale princess about to enter a palace that might have been created just for her.

  ‘How are you holding up?’

  When she turned her shimmering blue gaze towards him his insides rolled over, just as though he’d plunged to the earth from the greatest of heights. He couldn’t envisage a time when he would ever tire of looking into their silken depths. She was like an angel who rendered him spellbound.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  There was the briefest glimpse of that guarded smile he sometimes saw, and Zafir wondered if she would ever look at him with complete trust in her eyes, as she had done in the early days when they’d first been together. He swallowed hard at the thought that she might not.

  ‘And your ankle...the injury is not bothering you so much today?’

  ‘No. It’s definitely on the mend, thank goodness. How about you? How are you feeling? I know how important today must be for you.’

  Taken aback by her thoughtfulness, he couldn’t deny his pleasure and his answering smile was wide and freely given.

  ‘I’m good. Why wouldn’t I be, when I am about to introduce my wife and son to my mother for the very first time? I’m as excited at the prospect as I know she is.’

  * * *

  Darcy’s first sight of the palace was one she would never forget. From a distance it looked like an ice castle, rising out of the earth, its crystalline perfection so exquisite it was breathtaking. But they weren’t in the Arctic, she reminded herself, they were in the desert. And the stunning building in front of her wasn’t fashioned out of ice, but out of the purest white marble.

  The magical effect it conveyed was heightened by the setting sun, its rose-gold rays bathing the construction in an ethereal light.

  On either side of them, as they drew nearer, she saw two spectacular marble fountains whose graceful jets seemed to reach up towards the heavens before plunging back down to earth again. The sound of rushing water was surprisingly soothing, and effortlessly created an oasis of contemplative calm.

  She thought she would like to sit by them on her own one day, and reflect on the amazing chain of events that had brought her here. But for now, with her arm linked in the crook of Zafir’s, she was content to let him guide her and Sami down the ornate mosaic-tiled walkway that led to the main entrance of the building.

  She was still using a walking cane to lean on, but knew that soon, thankfully, she would need it less and less. Her ankle was indubitably healing. As for Sami—he walked alongside his father with his usual boyish spring in his step, agog at all the splendour around him and for the moment rendered speechless by it.

  There were two uniformed guards standing to attention by a pair of tall, intricately decorated twin doors that stood beneath an impressive arched stone doorway. On seeing Zafir, they immediately bowed. Acknowledging them with a smile, he seemed genuinely pleased to see them, asking them both about their health and their families.

  Seemingly satisfied with their response, he remarked that he was pleased that all was well with them. But when all was said and done he was still the King of the realm and he was soon indicating that he needed to move on.

  He told Darcy that he was taking her to meet his mother...the woman their people still referred to as the Queen.

  Although she was understandably nervous at meeting the Dowager Queen Soraya el-Kalil there was also a fair amount of excitement pulsating through her veins. What would she be like and would she really welcome a commoner as her new daughter-in-law?

  Well, it was too late now because the deed was done. She and her son, the King, were already married.

  They had to negotiate a large expanse of marble corridor before being led by a retainer to the private suite of rooms designated to the ruling Sheikh’s mother. Straight away they were shown into the sitting room.

  The first thing that surprised Darcy was how homely it was. Although there were some mouthwateringly beautiful pieces of furniture, and sumptuous Arabian furnishings, they weren’t overly ostentatious, and she was further reassured by the array of family photographs that resided on practically every surface. She itched to examine them more closely, certain that there must be some of Zafir as a boy.

  But just then a woman who couldn’t be anything but a queen gracefully appeared through an inner arched doorway and stopped all her thoughts in their tracks.

  She was robed in ivory silk, and her hair was as black as a raven’s wing with a stunning silver streak at the front, made more evident by a regal chignon. Her face was truly beautiful. She had winged dark brows and incredibly glossy ebony eyes and the smile she directed at them all was unstinting in its welcome.

  Darcy owned to feeling relieved.

  ‘My son... It is so good to see you!’ Affectionately placing her hands against Zafir’s cheeks, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘I trust you had a good journey?’

  ‘We did, indeed. Everything went according to plan, as I had hoped.’

  ‘That is good. And now we get to the important part... You must introduce me to your wife, and also to my long-awaited grandson.’

  ‘Mother... I’d like you to meet my wife, Darcy.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness let me look at you, my dear.’

  Her new mother-in-law carefully took her free hand in hers and held it. Darcy was surprised at the strength in her grip. She was not holding back on thoroughly examining the newest member of her family, but she never once lost her generous smile as she did so.

  ‘Zafir has told me that you resemble a fairy princess, but I confess I thought that must be love talking. I see now that he was right. You are absolutely exquisite, my daughter.’

  For a moment the younger woman didn’t know what to say. The Dowager Queen really believed that Zafir loved her? How long before she realised that wasn’t the case—that he’d only married her because he wanted to claim his son and heir?

  ‘You are very kind, your Highness.’

  ‘I only speak the truth. I also thank you for raising my grandson on your own until you reunited with his father. It must have been very hard to manage work and child-rearing under such circumstances?’

  Flushing, Darcy responded. ‘My mother was a great help to me, and I’ve always done the very best I could by Sami...after all, he’s the light of my life.’

  ‘Bless you for that, my child. Talking of which—it is time I met a certain young man.’

  Sami was shuffling from foot to foot, as though his energy couldn’t be contained. That told her he was excited. But he stilled when his new grandmother approached. She gre
eted him with the same enthusiasm with which she’d greeted his father, only this time she leant down so that she was nearer his level.

  ‘I am so pleased to meet you, little one. I am the mother of your father, the King. That makes me your grandmother.’

  ‘I already have one of those. Her name is Patricia. What’s your name?’

  Soraya affectionately kissed the top of his head and said fondly, ‘You may call me Nannaa. That is the usual name for my role in this country.’

  ‘Cool...then I’ll have a nanny and a nannaa. I hope I won’t muddle them up.’

  ‘I doubt that you will, my son. You are far too clever for that.’

  Crouching down beside him, Zafir dropped his arm round the diminutive waist and gave him a squeeze. Darcy felt an inward glow of pride as she watched the pair. She was even more gratified when she sensed that Sami was happy with the new arrangements. He might even welcome them.

  She made a mental note to talk to him about his feelings later.

  Soraya had straightened, and her interested glance encompassed them all. ‘Tell me, what do you want to do about eating? Are you ready for something now or would you like to rest a little before supper? If Sami is hungry—which I have no doubt he is—I will order some food to be brought here, and I can get to know him a little while the two of you go to your rooms and rest a while.’

  Zafir’s charismatic dark gaze turned immediately to his wife. ‘Would you like to do that? It will give my mother the chance to talk to Sami on her own and you can have some private time to recover from the journey.’

  ‘If that’s what Sami wants...’

  ‘I do, Mummy—and I’m very, very hungry!’

  ‘That’s settled, then.’

 

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