The Arabian Mistress

by Lynne Graham

  She phoned Latif and, after a lot of circling round the subject but somehow never actually answering her anxious questions, Latif said he would call at the Muraaba.

  ‘There is no need for concern. Prince Tariq is quite safe,’ he informed her on his arrival.

  ‘I only want to know where he is…that’s all.’

  Latif sighed. ‘His Royal Highness has places where he goes when he wishes to be alone. It is a great luxury for him to be alone. He might be on the beach. He might be in the desert. He might be driving himself around the city, perhaps even walking down a street somewhere as if he is an ordinary person.’

  ‘How can he be safe if you don’t even know where he is? It can’t be safe for him to do that!’

  Latif lowered his wise eyes to the exquisite Aubusson rug in silence.

  ‘He’s not alone at all…ever, is he?’ Faye realised with initial relief and then a surge of the most powerful and guilty sympathy for Tariq. ‘You still have him under security surveillance.’

  ‘There is no reason for concern.’ Latif lifted his head again. ‘We understand that Prince Tariq carries huge responsibilities and endures many exasperating restrictions without complaint. Yet he is still a young man. He has never known the freedom that his father enjoyed and, sadly, he never will for the world has changed too much. But if you ask to know his whereabouts, it is, of course, my duty to tell you, Your Royal Highness.’

  Faye was very pale by the end of that speech. ‘No, that’s all right, I no longer wish to know and, as far as I’m concerned, we never had this conversation.’

  With a strained smile, Faye walked with Latif to the very doors of the palace, a courtesy which he definitely deserved for she could see she had put him in a very awkward position, not to mention dragging him out late at night.

  ‘Last year…it was a period of almost intolerable strain,’ the older man mused with his usual tact, ‘but over the past weeks, the strain seemed absent.’

  ‘It will be absent again,’ Faye promised tightly.

  She went to bed and lay awake. She was grateful to Latif for his advice. He had not embarrassed her but he had added a whole new and unsettling dimension to her understanding of the male she had married. Tariq only took time out when he was really at the end of his tether. Tears burned in her eyes as she remembered him admitting that he had had to acknowledge her as being his wife, just as he had once felt forced to marry her. A black comedy of errors? But hadn’t he also said that he had been thinking of marrying her even before everything had gone wrong? So, a year ago, he had loved her and wanted her, and two days ago he had still been making mad, passionate love to her. She was not going to give up on him.

  Tariq moved like a silent predator through the bedroom when he came home in the early hours. She lay still as a stone, hardly breathing. He went for a shower and she wondered if he had even noticed her presence in the bed. The curtains were not drawn and moonlight filtered over his lean bronzed length as he approached the bed and she stole a glance.

  ‘When you’re asleep, you breathe more heavily,’ Tariq imparted as he slid between the sheets. ‘I knew you were awake the instant I entered the room.’

  ‘Oh…’

  His hand brushed her fingertips. It might well have been accidental for he could simply have been stretching. But Faye was in no mood for subtlety and she practically threw herself across the space that separated them into his arms. Without hesitation he curved her to him.

  She listened to the solid thump of his heart and slowly dared to breathe again. ‘I don’t need any more words.’

  ‘We might say the wrong ones.’ His strong arms tightened round her and it was more than enough. ‘But curiosity is killing me. What did Latif tell you?’

  She tensed. ‘You know he was here?’

  Tariq uttered a husky laugh. ‘I have my own ways and means.’

  ‘I was worried about you…stupid, really.’

  ‘Caring,’ Tariq contradicted, driving the tension back out of her again with his pronounced calm. ‘I would have liked to go to the beach for a swim. But then they have to get the divers out and I am always worried that one of them will have an accident in the dark through trying so very hard not to be seen.’

  ‘So you know you’ve got company?’

  ‘I’ve got so much company I sometimes feel like throwing a party but it is a matter of great pride to my surveillance teams to believe they are invisible to me.’

  ‘Only not much fun for you,’ she whispered ruefully.

  ‘But they enjoy the challenge so much.’ Brushing her tumbled hair back from her cheekbones, he stared down at her, his eyes glittering like jet in the moonlight. ‘I drove around half the night thinking—’

  ‘Don’t think,’ she urged.

  ‘You are staying.’ It was not a question but a declaration.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘A generous man would give you a choice but I can’t pretend a generosity I do not feel.’

  ‘That’s OK…’

  He rested back and eased her over him, shaping his hands to the feminine swell of her hips, acquainting her with the urgency of his arousal. She quivered, answering heat racing through her as if he had switched on an electric current.

  ‘It would be cruel to sentence me to any more cold showers.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘All of a sudden you are very amenable. But then there is true equality in the joys of sex,’ Tariq commented softly.

  But as her head lifted and her lips parted in dismay, he took her mouth in a hungry, seeking kiss that was quite irresistible.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THREE days later, Faye attended her first public engagement with Tariq. A new centre for children with learning disabilities had been built and Tariq had been invited to preside over the official opening.

  ‘But no one will be expecting me,’ Faye had pointed out nervously.

  ‘Since our marriage was announced, you have been included in all my invitations. My schedule is arranged months ahead but the organisers of every event have contacted the palace to declare that your presence would be most welcome. Indeed, extra secretarial help has had to be brought in,’ Tariq revealed with some amusement.

  Faye was disconcerted by that information.

  ‘Everyone will be hoping you will make an appearance. There is great curiosity about you. However, if you prefer to keep a low profile, that is not a problem either.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Your predecessor, Rafi’s mother, made no public appearances. She went veiled and demanded the strictest seclusion—’

  Faye grimaced. ‘I’m not going to go that far—’

  His vibrant smile tipped her heart over. ‘She was very unpopular. Our women felt threatened by the old ways suddenly reappearing in the heart of their ruling family. In any case, I wish to show you off, not hide you away.’

  In receipt of those quiet supportive words, Faye glowed and overcame her apprehension. In truth, her nerves vanished once she found that it was merely a matter of talking to people, chatting to the children present and doing a lot of smiling when the language barrier made itself felt. Photographs were taken but only after Tariq had given his permission. Only when refreshments were being served did Faye recognise Tariq’s cousin, Majida, who had caused her such embarrassment at the reception held in the desert.

  Her beautiful face arranged in a cloying smile, her shapely figure displayed in a cerise-pink brocade suit, Majida approached Faye while Tariq was chatting with another man several feet away.

  Now very conscious that she had to lead the conversation, Faye said with a determined smile, ‘How are you? I didn’t see you earlier but obviously you must be involved with the learning centre.’

  ‘I organised the fund-raising. I am well known in Jumar for my charitable endeavours.’ Her dark eyes hard as nails, Majida threw her head high and, as the brunette was much taller, Faye had to resist an urge to stretch her own neck. ‘May I congratulate you on your wonderfully deft t
ouch with small children, Your Royal Highness?’

  Suspecting sarcasm, Faye tensed. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But then with three children to raise already and a pressing need for one of his own, Prince Tariq knew exactly what nursery qualities to seek in his wife,’ Majida murmured sweetly. ‘Rather you than me.’

  As Majida dipped her head and went into instant retreat, Faye was left waxen pale. The brunette’s barbs had hit a tender target. Nursery qualities? In the space of ten seconds, Faye’s buoyant inner happiness just imploded into a tight little knot of hurt and pain.

  For, of course, there was no arguing with what Tariq’s venomous cousin had said. How might Tariq have felt about their marriage had she not been a success with Rafi, Basma and Hayat? Tariq had been very much taken aback by that development but had soon decided to be pleased instead. He was very anxious to do right by the children. He took his obligations seriously and might well put their needs ahead of more personal inclinations.

  In addition, Tariq might have a pressing need for a child of his own to ensure the succession, but he protected Faye from pregnancy with scrupulous care. Suddenly, even though they had only been together a few weeks, that reality made her feel even more insecure. Perhaps he didn’t trust her enough yet, she decided painfully. Naturally her stridently stated apparent willingness to leave the children would leave its mark on his opinion of her. She had been dreadfully immature, throwing angry threats more for effect than anything else. But how was he to know that when she had not yet admitted that lowering truth? Perhaps he wanted to be sure that their marriage was going to last before discussing the matter of them having a child together.

  Across the room, Faye’s gaze was drawn by Tariq’s proud dark head bent down to Majida’s. She stiffened, uneasy at seeing him in the other woman’s company. What clever remarks aimed at undermining Faye might the brunette plant without Tariq even realising it? Weren’t men supposed to be vulnerable to such manipulation? By the time she got the chance to look in the same direction again, all she caught was a brief glimpse of Majida slipping out the door, her profile oddly pinched and pale.

  In the limo on the drive back to the Muraaba, Tariq shook her by carrying her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers in a gesture that was both teasing and sincere. ‘You were wonderful. I was very proud of you.’

  She smiled, some of her tension ebbing. ‘As long as people don’t look to me to try and follow in your mother’s footsteps. Then I’d be sure to be a disappointment.’

  ‘Is that what made you so apprehensive?’ At her reluctant nod of confirmation, Tariq released a rueful laugh. ‘My mother was a very fine woman, but no saint. She was too aggressive in her support of the causes she took up and quite often offended people with her frank speech. It was her natural warmth which won her forgiveness…and you have that same special quality without the desire to change the whole world overnight.’

  Touched by his honesty on her behalf and by that compliment, Faye felt her spirits rise again.

  ‘My cousin, Majida, won’t be bothering you again,’ Tariq imparted with awesome casualness. ‘I was very annoyed when I heard her speak to you in the manner that she did—’

  Faye reddened. ‘You heard?’

  ‘I was listening and not by accident. I was already well aware that it could only have been Majida who insulted you on our wedding night.’ His gaze gleamed with wry amusement at her look of surprise. ‘I know my relatives through and through. Only Majida was likely to be unhappy with me for producing a young and beautiful wife, for the rest of my family were keen to see me married.’

  ‘I expect she thought she would have been a better candidate.’ Faye sighed.

  ‘Marriages between first cousins are frequent in Arab countries but it was a practice always frowned on within my own family circle.’

  Faye stiffened. ‘So even if you had wanted to marry her, you couldn’t have done—’

  ‘No, I always had freedom of choice in that field. Majida has a great opinion of herself and she was jealous. But from now on she will be careful to treat you with proper respect.’

  ‘You really didn’t need to interfere—’

  ‘Oh, yes, I did. When I saw you standing there like a little girl with big hurt eyes refusing to fight your own corner, I thought to myself…isn’t that just like a woman?’

  ‘Meaning?’ Faye was stung on the raw by that description.

  ‘You see what I mean? You’re ready to shout at me already! You have tremendous spirit yet you didn’t put Majida in her place.’

  Faye bristled. ‘I was trying to be dignified.’

  Tariq curved a long arm round her and pulled her close. ‘I know but I was outraged to see you swallow that speech of hers. At the very least, you should have snubbed her and walked away, although I very much doubt that you will meet with such behaviour ever again. I apologise for my cousin’s rudeness.’

  ‘Not your problem,’ Relaxing, Faye curved round him, tucking her head under his chin, drinking in the warm, familiar scent of him with pleasure. He might not love her but he definitely did care about her. She wondered what he had said to Majida, though, and noticed that he did not offer that information.

  The car phoned buzzed. With an impatient sigh, Tariq reached for it. Faye was immediately aware of the tension that flared through his big, powerful frame and anxiety made her sit up straight.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she prompted when he had set the phone down again. ‘It’s nothing to do with the children, is it?’

  ‘No,’ he reassured her instantly. ‘But gather your inner strength and hold tight to your dignity for you will need it. It seems that this must be the chosen day for our mutual families to embarrass us.’

  ‘Sorry, I—’

  ‘Your stepfather awaits us at the Muraaba and Latif, who is at home with the crowned heads of Europe, sounds like he is very much in need of rescue,’ Tariq told her gently.

  ‘Percy is here in Jumar…again?’ Faye gasped in dismay.

  ‘What shall I do with him?’ Tariq asked lazily. ‘Shall I be corrupt and have him thrown into a prison cell on some trumped-up charge such as taking up too much space on the pavement? It is only what he expects of a primitive people such as he believes us to be. It seems a real shame to disappoint him.’

  Faye was not soothed by his dark humour for the mere threat of Tariq being forced to have any dealings whatsoever with Percy Smythe affronted her. ‘You don’t need to worry. I’ll get rid of him—’

  ‘I am not worried. I am even looking forward to the encounter.’ Tariq dealt her incredulous face a mocking smile. ‘No, I am not planning to kill him with my bare hands. Unlike Majida, who is not a laughing matter, Percy can be richly entertaining in his own peculiar way.’

  Faye was thinking that only Percy would have the neck to enter the home of a man he had once tried to blackmail. ‘But what on earth does he want?’

  ‘Perhaps your loyal and caring brother has with immense effort recalled the existence of his kid sister and has finally noted that she has gone missing.’

  ‘That’s not very kind, Tariq—’

  ‘I don’t enjoy hearing you always ask if there have been any letters or phone calls for you,’ he countered. ‘Your family do not deserve you.’

  Faye was discomfited by the way Tariq noticed everything even if he might not choose to comment on it at the time. It had worried her that she had not heard a word from Adrian. Assuming that Adrian and his family were staying with Percy, she had phoned her stepfather’s home on several occasions but, in spite of leaving messages on the answering machine, she had not been contacted. Her letter had not brought a response either.

  ‘Adrian’s never been great at keeping in touch. Men aren’t,’ she said defensively.

  ‘But he owes his freedom to you—’

  ‘Adrian doesn’t know about the bargain you and I made—’

  ‘Even the dimmest of men must have made an association by now between his own miraculous release from
prison and his sister’s vanishing act.’

  ‘I’ll see Percy on my own!’ Outside the Muraaba, Faye tried to dive out of the limo ahead of Tariq. ‘But I can’t think why Latif should’ve brought him here to our home.’

  ‘Only think of Percy let loose in the Haja loudly giving forth on his views of Jumar,’ Tariq suggested lethally. ‘He could cause a riot.’

  Faye flushed and Tariq took advantage of her chagrin to close his hand over hers and walk her indoors. Latif awaited them in the entrance hall and, with a polite word of greeting and apology to Faye, turned to address Tariq in a low-pitched flood of explanatory Arabic.

  An unexpected smile skimming his darkly handsome features, Tariq turned back to Faye. ‘Latif tells me that Percy has come into a large amount of money.’

  ‘Where from?’

  ‘The British lottery had bestowed its largesse on a most undeserving man.’

  Faye was shaken but she did not agree with Tariq. Percy with money was surely less dangerous than Percy without money. Her fear that her stepfather now knew that she and Tariq were husband and wife and had arrived to ask for a loan receded.

  When they entered the grand drawing room, Percy was holding a very fine Minton vase upside down to peer at its base. He set it down again, quite untouched by embarrassment. ‘I suppose I’m looking at the rich rewards of four hundred years of looting and plunder. No wonder your lot were always raiding each other,’ Percy commented enviously.

  Faye just wanted to sink through the floor at that opening speech.

  ‘Welcome to the Muraaba, Percy,’ Tariq drawled with a slow smile. ‘You are quite right. My ancestors were ruthless to the extreme. They slaughtered their way to supremacy.’

  Percy gave him an appreciative appraisal. ‘I knew you wouldn’t hold a grudge, Tariq. You’re a businessman just like myself.’ His small eyes flicked in his stepdaughter’s direction. ‘You’re looking a treat, Faye. But run along, there’s a good girl. I’ve got some private business to discuss with His Royal Highness.’

  Faye folded her arms. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’