The Arabian Mistress

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.’