‘My uncle very much prefers his books and considered the life he led while Regent during my minority unpleasant and stressful,’ Zarif advanced ruefully.
‘You were telling me about your mother before I interrupted you.’
‘Halim’s wife gave birth only to daughters and, consequently, the lack of a male heir to the throne became a crisis. That was when my grandfather asked my mother to marry and provide the remedy.’
Ella pulled a face as she casually picked at her lamb and rice casserole with a fork. ‘And you were the remedy,’ she guessed.
‘But not an easy remedy from my unfortunate mother’s point of view,’ Zarif declared grimly. ‘She married an obnoxious playboy with a proven history of fathering male sons purely because she knew that all he was interested in was her money and that he would never seek to interfere with her life or mine.’
‘You’re referring to Gaetano Ravelli, who’s Nik and Cristo’s father as well?’ Ella prompted. ‘Was he obnoxious?’
‘Without a doubt, he was a very selfish, dissolute man. I actually never met him. He had no interest in his children.’
‘I know that Belle and Cristo are raising his children by Belle’s mother, who was his mistress for years,’ Ella admitted. ‘But I really know nothing else about him. Did your mother hold your genes against you? Are you estranged because you remind her of Gaetano?’
‘We’re not estranged, but we are basically still strangers,’ Zarif admitted, his dark golden eyes unusually sombre. ‘She handed me over at birth to her parents to raise and when my grandparents died, Halim took over. Mariyah knew that I would never fully be her child because my grandfather planned to make me his heir and would insist on overseeing every aspect of my upbringing. Karim ensured that I attended a military school, went straight into the army and that I married Azel. After my mother divorced Gaetano she asked my grandfather’s permission to live abroad. She has lived in Italy ever since and the only visits she has ever made back to Vashir were to honour my grandparents’ passing and to see Halim, shortly after his terminal illness was diagnosed.’
‘Have you ever actually tried to connect with her?’ Ella prompted.
‘Not in the sense that you mean. Although when I approached Mariyah for help with your wardrobe it was because I knew she would enjoy the challenge...and perhaps I wanted to make her feel a part of my life, even if it was only in a small way.’ Zarif shrugged broad shoulders and sighed in frustration, spelling out the reality that he hated to talk about emotional things. ‘But as people, what would my mother and I have in common now? Although my mother was born royal she hated the restrictions and sacrifices that being royal forced on her. She refuses to even use her title. She forged a successful career as a fashion stylist in the film world and enjoys the freedom of her anonymity.’
‘I still think it’s sad that you have no contact.’ Ella was thinking unhappily of him growing up without a mother while wondering if his grandparents had been loving replacements or more concerned about guaranteeing that they raised the most suitable possible royal heir to the throne. Military school, the army and a very youthful marriage to a chosen bride, the cousin he had grown up with. Such a rigidly conformist background did not suggest to her that Zarif had been allowed much licence to develop as an individual in his own right. From an early age, he had been denied the freedom to choose that which other people took for granted. She believed that the presence of a protective mother might have ensured he had more fair and liberal choices.
‘My life is what it is and my mother and I inhabit different worlds,’ Zarif retorted wryly.
Her cell phone pinged with a message and she pulled it out because her mother had been seeing her heart specialist that morning and had promised to relay her latest test results. But the name that popped up on the screen was Jason’s and she put the phone back in her bag because she was in no hurry to read what her brother might have to say. Doubtless it would be another boastful text about wildly entertaining drunken parties or the ludicrously dangerous ski runs that he loved to do.
‘I’m afraid I have to get back to work again,’ Zarif revealed. ‘Are you staying on for the second session?’
‘No, I think I’ll go and do a bit of shopping this afternoon.’ Ella drained her glass of water and slowly stood. ‘So, you’re going back to deal with the old fossils, are you?’
Zarif’s brilliant dark gaze glittered with wicked appreciation. ‘I try to be a democrat.’ He reached for her hands and pulled her close, his thumbs massaging her fragile wrist bones. ‘I’m dining with you tonight.’
Her pink-tinted mouth pouted as she looked up at him. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’
‘You want an honest answer?’ As she nodded, Zarif laughed. ‘Your show of interest in government. Until today no woman had ever set foot in the council chamber and my uncle is so shocked by news of your interest that he suggested I am leaving you alone too much!’
Her eyes widened and then glimmered with matching amusement. ‘And you said Vashir wasn’t backward?’ she teased.
‘I lied. I wanted you to love it here as much as I do and I didn’t want to line up all the flaws for your edification at your very first viewing.’
His mouth settled down over hers and her lush lips cl
ung to his with a sudden fervour she could not restrain, hunger winging through her slender body in a wave she could not suppress. Zarif yanked his proud dark head back up, studying her with raw heat in his burning gaze. ‘Later,’ he husked sexily.
‘Hold on a minute!’ Ella exclaimed, digging into her bag with a tissue and stretching up on tiptoe to wipe the stain of pink from his wide, sensual mouth. ‘The King can’t be seen in public smeared with lipstick.’
Ella was still smiling without knowing what she was smiling about when she climbed into the limousine. She thrust the stained tissue back in her bag and then remembered Jason’s text. With a rueful look in her eyes, she dug out her phone to read her brother’s message.
RUNNING OUT OF MONEY. NEED A CASH INJECTION... 100,000 WOULD TIDE ME OVER.
Ella studied Jason’s demand with wide, discomfited eyes and her mouth tightened. Jason really did have no shame. She texted back in haste.
I WILL NOT ASK ZARIF FOR MONEY FOR YOU.
HE’D BETTER PAY UP IF HE DOESN’T WANT HIS MISTRESSES IN DUBAI REVEALED TO THE MEDIA.
Hollow with shock and horror, Ella sat transfixed, staring at the screen of her phone. They were driving through the city centre by the time she got a grip on her roiling emotions. She lifted the phone to communicate with Hamid, who was seated beside the driver. ‘I want to return to the old palace. I’m too tired to go shopping this afternoon,’ she announced.