by Lynne Graham
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 greatgrandfather 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.’
‘I didn’t appreciate how much Sami would mean to Jasim’s family.’
‘And our entire country. I believe history is about to be made on your behalf,’ Laila remarked. ‘I hear Sami is to be shown off to the television cameras and you are to be interviewed. Such media access to the royal family is unprecedented.’
Elinor, suddenly feeling much more daunted by her role as Jasim’s wife than she was prepared to admit to her companion, said nothing.
‘This is the royal nursery. An entire household has been designed around Sami,’ Laila explained, crossing the threshold of a large room crammed with toys and baby equipment. Half a dozen servants streamed through other linked doorways to dip their heads very low while at the same time striving to get a first look at the child in Elinor’s arms. ‘I won’t try to introduce you because few of the staff speak English. Let them look after him while I show you where you will be living.’
Elinor swallowed hard at the challenge of having to hand over care of her son.
‘Sami will be spoiled rotten by everyone,’ Laila told her with a hint of impatience as Elinor lingered in the doorway. ‘Next to your husband he’s the most important person in the palace.’
‘Aren�
��t you forgetting the King?’ Elinor commented.
Laila guided her back into the corridor. ‘That my uncle has lived this long is a tribute to his strength of character, but his illness is steadily gaining on him and Jasim is already taking on many of his father’s responsibilities.’
Elinor was somewhat unnerved by the suggestion than King Akil was living on borrowed time. She had known the older man was ill but not that there was no hope of recovery. The suggestion that Jasim might soon have to assume the huge responsibility of becoming Quaram’s next hereditary ruler brought a sober expression to her face and concern to her thoughtful gaze. Laila led her across a lushly planted courtyard to another building. The front door opened immediately and a servant bowed very low and ushered them in.
‘This is where you will live with my cousin. It’s very private.’ Laila issued instructions to the servant in her own language. ‘I’ve ordered refreshments.’
Elinor walked into a beautifully furnished reception room. Two servants hurried in bearing laden trays. Clearly their arrival had been well prepared for in advance. She sank down into a richly upholstered armchair and her only concern was the distance between the building and Sami’s nursery. She knew she was going to have to speak to Jasim because she could see no reason why Sami had to be housed separately. Indeed she was already wondering if it was a deliberate attempt to make her son less dependent on her.
‘You’re very quiet. Are you nervous at the idea of becoming Queen?’ Laila questioned in surprise as delicate glass cups of fragrant tea were offered. ‘I wouldn’t be—I would love every moment of being queen and, of course, if you hadn’t caught Jasim’s eye, I might well have been!’
It took a few seconds before the meaning of that startling announcement penetrated Elinor’s troubled thoughts about her son. Green eyes widening, she frowned at her companion in some discomfiture. ‘Were you and Jasim—?’
Laila sipped her tea and laughed without any sign of animosity. ‘It was my uncle’s dearest wish that we marry. But, like most men of his generation, Jasim preferred to enjoy being single for as long as he possibly could…and then you came along.’
Elinor gave the gorgeous brunette an uneasy glance. ‘Yes.’
‘And now my hopes are in the dust.’ Laila shifted a shoulder in a fatalistic shrug. ‘Unless, of course, you would be willing to share your husband?’
The question was voiced so casually that Elinor could only loose a surprised laugh at what she could only assume was a joke. ‘I don’t think that would be my style, Laila.’
‘But some women do share their men in the Middle East and quite happily, believe me,’ Laila murmured soft and low. ‘A virile man will never complain about having more than one wife to meet his needs and he will be less likely to stray.’
Elinor was so shaken by that revealing little speech that she struggled to absorb it, refusing to credit that the other woman could possibly be suggesting what Elinor was believed she was. Deeply uncomfortable and feeling very much out of her depth, she snatched up a tiny cake from the plate in front of her and began to nibble at it to occupy her hands. She tasted nothing because her taste buds seemed to have gone into hibernation.
‘Now I’ve really shocked you. I’m sorry,’ Laila groaned, setting down her tea and rising to her feet in a fluid motion. ‘But such arrangements have worked very well for many marriages. You’re a foreigner. There is so much you will not be able to share with Jasim. You don’t even speak our language. Yaminah would not agree to Murad taking a second wife and their marriage began to fail soon afterwards.’
Green eyes gleaming with a feisty light, Elinor lifted her head high. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to take that risk, Laila. I’m a firm believer in the value of monogamy. Jasim is off the market and I have no plans to share him with anyone.’
‘And yet there are already rumours within the palace that that is the arrangement which Jasim is hoping you will consent to,’ the exotic brunette advanced, her assurance not even slightly dented by Elinor’s tart response.
‘I’m sure I can rely on you to quash those silly rumours,’Elinor countered firmly, having reached the reluctant conclusion that Jasim’s beautiful ambitious cousin was as poisonous as a scorpion. As for her suggestion that Jasim was hoping for a polygamous marriage, that had to be nonsense. Nonsense spouted by a jealous little cat, who had had her calculating eye on Jasim for herself! As Laila took her leave, however, Elinor was already recalling a truly ghastly story that she had once read about an Arab wife whose once happy marriage had been destroyed by a husband who had demanded and exercised the right to take other wives.
Alone, she was given a tour of the house by the senior manservant, Zaid, who spoke excellent English. The house was enormous and she was relieved by the discovery that there was ample space in which to set up a nursery for Sami. The interior, however, was as stark and contemporary as any within the main palace building. The floors were marble and occasionally wood. The windows had blinds rather than drapes. There were entertainment systems everywhere and elaborate switches to control the temperature, the lighting, the blinds and the music. Although a dressing room packed with male apparel was witness to the fact that Jasim lived there, there were no photos or anything more personal lying around. In fact the rooms had all the personality of a bland hotel.
Elinor was freshening up when she heard a door slam shut downstairs. Hurriedly drying her hands, she sped to the top of the stairs. ‘Jasim!’ she called.
Jasim strode out of the drawing room and looked up at her. His lean strong face was set in harsh lines and he took the stairs two at a time. ‘My father expects us to go through another wedding,’ he told her grittily.
‘Oh, dear. Did you tell him how much you would enjoy going through that experience again?’
There was no answering humour in the angry dark eyes that met hers as he drew level. ‘It is not a laughing matter. He does not consider the civil ceremony which we underwent without his agreement to be legal. He has already made all the arrangements for a second ceremony here and we have no choice but to go along with his wishes. It is to take place tomorrow.’
‘My word, that’s quick. Can we retrieve Sami before then?’ Elinor asked.
‘Why? Where is our son?’
Elinor explained about the nursery situated deep within the palace.
His ebony brows knit together. ‘The household is half a century out of date when it comes to babies.’ He pressed a bell in the wall and Zaid reappeared to receive the stream of instructions that Jasim aimed at him. The older man nodded eagerly and sped off. Jasim turned back to Elinor. ‘From now on, Sami will sleep in the same quarters as his parents.’
Elinor followed him into the bedroom and watched him discard his jacket. His movements were oddly stiff and constrained, lacking in his usual grace. She studied his grim profile, the strain etching angularity into his classic profile. ‘Was this wedding idea the reason you argued with your father?’
‘It wasn’t an argument—it was a mild difference of opinion,’ Jasim contradicted, unbuttoning his shirt. ‘My father has made many plans for us. I am not accustomed to having my life organised for me. After the second wedding, we are to spend a month in seclusion while we become accustomed to being husband and wife.’
Elinor blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Your disappearing act has made my father very nervous about the likely longevity of our marriage,’ Jasim explained with an audible edge of derision. ‘He believes that a divorce between us would be a disaster for the monarchy. He is convinced that our marriage will only last if I now take a long holiday from my responsibilities to spend time with you and our son.’
Surprised and dismayed by his explanation, Elinor found herself staring as he snaked free of his shirt, revealing a sleek brown torso rippling with whipcord muscle and marked by a black triangle of curls across his powerful pectoral muscles. ‘Oh…’
Jasim tossed aside the shirt in a gesture of fuming impatience. ‘I don’t
have time for such self-indulgence. My father is very ill. I am doing what I can to lighten the burden of his duties, but if I am not available he will try to do too much. He is not strong enough to survive another heart attack.’
The anger that she could see repeatedly bubbling up in him was making Elinor feel uneasy, and the atmosphere was explosive. ‘Wouldn’t he listen to your advice?’
‘Obstinacy is a family trait.’ Jasim had fallen still and outrage lightened his gaze to scornful accusing gold while he studied her. ‘While lying appears to be your fatal flaw and I must be honest—I cannot stand the prospect of living with a liar because it means that you cannot be trusted.’
‘Lying?’ Elinor repeated in complete bewilderment. ‘What are you accusing me of lying about?’
‘I checked out your stupid story about a romance between Murad and your late mother. My father had not the slightest idea what I was talking about!’ Jasim informed her in a savage undertone. ‘My brother had never approached him with a request to marry anyone before he agreed to marry Yaminah.’
Elinor was astonished by that statement. ‘But that’s not possible. I mean, my mother told me about what happened. It was a major event in her life and she had no reason to lie—’
‘You’re the liar,’ Jasim fired back at her with harsh emphasis. ‘Why can’t you just admit the truth? Murad gave you that diamond ring because you had a relationship with him!’
‘That’s absolutely not true!’ Elinor hurled back at him.
