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…’