The Sultan Demands His Heir Page 9

  ‘No, dinner is fine,’ she said, scrambling to gather her wits.

  She followed at a slower pace, properly taking in her surroundings for the first time. This dining room was different from where she’d shared breakfast with him a week ago. It was also different from where she herself had eaten her meals every day for the last week.

  ‘Where are we? I mean, which part of the palace?’ she asked when they were seated at the table.

  ‘In my private wing.’

  Which included his bedroom, she concluded on a dizzy, unwelcome thought. Were they, even now, a stone’s throw from where Zaid slept? And did he sleep alone? It was the first time Esme had given herself permission to dwell on just who shared the enigmatic Sultan’s bed. But now that she’d made it clear she had no intention of falling into his bed, her brain couldn’t let go of wondering just who he would invite there instead.

  She hadn’t seen signs of it because she’d been preoccupied with other things, namely her father, but did the Ja’ahrian Royal Palace, as with most Sultanates, possess a harem?

  The strong urge to ask hovered on her tongue. She bit back the impulse and helped herself to the platter of fragrant couscous served with salad and an assortment of sliced meats. From previous meals, she knew the meats had been slow roasted for hours with honey, spices and nuts. The promise of the melt-in-your-mouth offering reminded her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  ‘That isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you, I hope?’ he said blandly, and she realised he’d been watching her, waiting for a reaction to his answer.

  ‘Not at all,’ she offered boldly.

  The twitch of his lips told her he didn’t entirely believe her. But he didn’t contradict her.

  They ate the first course in silence, the uneasy tension building until chewing and swallowing each morsel of the delicious food became a chore.

  ‘As of this afternoon, I have recused myself as your father’s prosecutor.’

  It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. But once absorbed, the statement should have brought relief. Instead, her senses tingled with a not so terrifying warning. ‘Why?’

  ‘I want there to be no conflict of interest arising from my association with you.’

  ‘But...we have no association.’

  Brandy-coloured eyes gleamed for a moment before his lashes swept his expression away. ‘Not yet. But that is going to change soon, I think.’

  For some reason, her breath strangled in her lungs. ‘Even though our association will be strictly professional?’

  He stared at her for a moment before his gaze dropped again, and Esme got the uncanny feeling he was keeping something from her. ‘Even so.’

  ‘Um, okay. Who will take your place?’

  ‘That is for my attorney general to decide. He will present me with his recommendations at the end of this week.’

  Before she could ask further questions, two butlers entered. She remained silent as their plates were whisked away, and just as efficiently dessert platters were set on the table before the servers were dismissed.

  The creations were too exquisite to resist, even though Esme doubted she would be able to do them justice. Nevertheless, she helped herself to dates stuffed with goats’ cheese and sprinkled with sugar, butter biscuits topped with Ja’ahrian yoghurt, and sweet dumplings topped with honey and ground pistachios.

  ‘Touch Global have a base here in Ja’ahr,’ he said without preamble the moment they were alone again.

  Her nape tingled in premonition as she sampled a dumpling. ‘I wasn’t aware of that.’

  ‘They weren’t encouraged in their social work programme in my kingdom until recently,’ he expanded.

  He meant until after Khalid Al-Ameen’s death and Zaid’s ascension to the throne. The realisation that the dilapidated state of his kingdom was down to his uncle and not to Zaid hit home with brute force. Everything she’d accused him of during her TV interview came back to bite her hard. The fish had indeed rotted from the head down, but it had been a different head altogether.

  ‘And that’s what you want in repayment for what you did for my father? For me to work with Touch Global’s branch here in Ja’ahr?’ she asked.

  He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he picked up a stuffed date and popped it into his mouth. The act of watching another person chew shouldn’t have been so engrossing. And yet Esme couldn’t look away from the tight jaw, the shadowed cheek or the sexy mouth that had possessed her own so expertly.

  He swallowed and her breathing settled. Until she saw the brooding look in his eyes as he stared at her. ‘No. I have decided to utilise your expertise in another way.’

  The tingling on her nape increased. ‘How?’

  ‘You will be my personal liaison to the organisation.’

  She tried not to dwell on the word personal. ‘I... What does that mean?’

  ‘In the next few weeks I’ll be touring some of the more...out of the way parts of Ja’ahr. Touch Global are getting a handle on which communities are most needy here in Ja’ahr City and the surrounding areas. Much more help is needed in remote areas. You’ll travel with me, assess the needs of the people, then report to Touch. Based on your recommendations, they’ll ensure the necessary infrastructure is put in place.’

  As positions went, it was an exciting one, even if a huge leap from what she did back in London. But the prospect of working that closely with Zaid made her go hot. And then cold. When the butterflies in her belly finally settled midway between the two points, she cleared her throat.

  ‘I’m not sure that I can take the position for the whole length of time it will take for my father’s trial to happen but I’ll request an extension of my leave...’ She trailed to a stop when his brooding eyes narrowed on her.

  ‘This isn’t a negotiation, Esmeralda. This is where I list my demands and you confirm in the vein of the “I’ll give you whatever you want” you promised to me last week. Unless that was an empty promise?’ he queried, his voice deceptively soft.

  Esme had come to realise that was his most deadly tone.

  Mouth dry, she hurried to speak. ‘It wasn’t empty, but I still have to ask—’

  ‘Your employer has agreed to a transfer of your services, effective immediately, for as long as I want you,’ he supplied in an authoritarian voice.

  She froze in her chair. ‘What? How...? You had no right to do that!’

  ‘Why not?’ he demanded haughtily.

  ‘Because...because...’

  ‘You wanted to do it in your own precious time?’ he suggested when she sputtered. ‘Did I not tell you I would inform you of the details in due course?’

  ‘Details of what you wanted from me, not details of how you’d taken over my life!’

  ‘I had no wish to waste time on unnecessary arguments like the one we’re having right now. Besides, you forget I have experience in the corporate world. Asking your boss for an indefinable amount of leave wouldn’t have gone down well. Not without divulging a more comprehensive reason as to why you were in Ja’ahr in the first place. I take it you didn’t tell him about your father the first time around?’ he asked, although his droll tone suggested he already knew the answer.

  Esme’s stomach dipped lower, her anger at his high-handedness taking a temporary back seat to his unerring reasoning. ‘You...you didn’t tell him, did you?’

  ‘Since the call wasn’t of a personal nature, no, I didn’t.’

  ‘So he agreed, just like that?’ she pressed.

  ‘Yes, Esmeralda. Just like that. But I dare say receiving a call from the Sultan of a notable kingdom isn’t an everyday occurrence and he went the extra mile to treat it as such.’

  ‘You mean you threw your weight around and got the results you wanted.’

  ‘Of course,’ he agreed smoothly. ‘Although there wasn’t much throwing needed. He will have the privilege of adding my kingdom to his portfolio of clients, and my promise of a personal recommendation should you do a
good job was just the extra incentive he needed.’ A hard, implacable look settled over his face, along with a trace of the hunger she thought he’d completely eradicated. ‘So now your way has been cleared, do I have your agreement that you’ll stay for as long as I need you?’

  Esme fought against the distinct sensation that she’d been well and truly cornered. And not for the purpose of serving as Zaid’s liaison. There was stealth about him, a deeper purpose brewing behind his eyes that wouldn’t allow the tightening in her stomach to ease. But how could she fight it when she didn’t know what it was? Especially when in the face of what he’d said, what he’d done for her father, and what he was striving to do for his people, she could only give him one answer?

  * * *

  ‘Yes, I’ll stay.’

  In the moment before she answered, Zaid went through a half a dozen rebuttals in preparation for a negative response. Her inner battle had been plain to see on her face. So it took a moment or two before he realised she’d agreed. He absorbed her words with a relief he hadn’t been expecting to feel. The punch of elation that followed on its heels was equally perturbing and irritating, considering he’d mentally slammed the door on the possibility of any future sexual interaction with her.

  Zaid wasn’t arrogant in thinking he could change her mind about her decision should he wish to. Esmeralda Scott was a desirable woman, and their brief interlude had spiked a hunger in his blood that he was still struggling with. He’d also seen her quickly hidden disappointment after his acceptance of her bold denial of their mutual chemistry.

  But mixing business with pleasure rarely ended well. And he had enough people questioning his motives with her as it was, especially in light of the strings he’d pulled this week on behalf of her father.

  No, he would be better off finding a discreet alternative avenue for slaking his lust. Except the thought of doing just that only increased his irritation. That and the reminder of why she was in his kingdom in the first place.

  ‘Good.’ His tone was much curter than necessary. The widening of her alluring eyes and the stiffening of her lush body told him so. But his patience was ebbing. ‘Fawzi will provide you with an itinerary in the morning.’

  She carried on staring at him for a moment before her gaze dropped. ‘Okay. Um... I’ll say goodnight, then.’

  He rose and pulled back her chair, and noticed her faint surprise at the gesture. ‘You have a problem with a little chivalry?’

  She shook her head, and the already precarious knot of hair threatened to emancipate itself. The reminder of how soft and silky the tresses had felt between his fingers threatened another bout of hunger. Directing a silent, pithy curse at his libido did nothing to alleviate the growing ache.

  ‘Not a problem, no, just a little surprised, that’s all.’

  He allowed himself a tiny smile. ‘My grandmother, may she rest in peace, would turn in her grave if she thought for a moment that I’d abandoned my manners.’

  Her answering smile was equally brief, but the transformation of her features from beautiful to enchanting made his grip tight on the back of her chair. ‘Were you two very close?’

  Zaid told himself all he would allow was a single breath of her cherry blossom and jasmine scent as she fell into step beside him and they left his dining room. But in the next breath he was sampling her alluring perfume again, wondering where the shampoo smell ended and the jasmine and feminine scent began. He pulled his focus back to what she’d asked him with aggravating effort.

  ‘Despite our exile, she was determined to raise me as if I was a ruler in waiting. Besides my normal studies, I had to learn every single Ja’ahrian custom and law, excel in matters of diplomacy, and, of course, the correct table manners. She was a hard taskmistress, but she was also soft and maternal when it mattered.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she murmured.

  Something in her voice made him glance at her. He caught a trace of sadness before she attempted to reinstate that air of rigid control around herself. For some reason he couldn’t fathom in that moment, he wanted to smash through it, leave the true Esmeralda Scott exposed. He was sure it was that notion that prompted his next question.

  ‘When did you lose your mother?’

  Wary tension stiffened her spine. ‘How did you know?’

  He steered her down another hallway, one he knew would be quieter at that time of night. ‘Your father said you were the only family he had.’

  The tiniest wave of relief washed over her face. ‘Oh...yes.’ She pretended an interest in a nearby sculpture of a warrior on a horse as she gathered herself. ‘My mother died when I was fourteen. But she wasn’t in my life by then. They divorced when I was thirteen and she moved to Australia.’

  Zaid frowned. ‘So then it was just your father and you?’

  The wariness encroached again. ‘Yes.’

  ‘It won’t come as a surprise to you that I did my homework on your father. He has been...active in a number of countries for a while now. Unless you were left in the care of others, I assume you were with him?’

  Her laugh was a little strained. ‘What is this, an interrogation? I thought you were no longer my father’s prosecutor ?’

  ‘You fault me for wishing to know better the woman who will be working for me?’ Perhaps his tactics were unfair. Perhaps he needed to leave the subject alone. But, seeing her drag her lower lip between her teeth as she weighed up his question, Zaid felt that insanely strong urge to destroy her defences once more. He wanted to know her, wanted to find out what made her strong and wary and bold and vulnerable.

  ‘I guess not.’ He watched her consider her words carefully before responding. ‘No, I wasn’t left the in the care of others. I was in boarding school during term time, then I got a chance to see the world during school holidays with my father. It was a great adventure.’

  The glossy veneer she tried to throw on her childhood sent a pulse of anger through him. ‘If it was all so great, why have you been estranged from your father for the past eight years?’

  He saw the shock his question brought. Then her stunning eyes narrowed. ‘This feels awfully like an interrogation.’

  ‘Perhaps you were ashamed of the man he was and wished to distance yourself from him?’ he pressed.

  ‘Or have you considered the possibility that we just came to a time in our lives where we needed to go our separate ways? Like most children do when they come of age, I wanted to spread my wings. I wanted a...career, so I returned home to England.’

  She was lying. Or at the very least not telling the whole truth. Zaid frowned at the pang of unnerving disquiet at the revelation and wondered at it. He’d stopped being surprised by the actions of others a long time ago.

  So why this woman’s half-truths should disturb him so deeply, why it should tap into a well of disappointment he’d thought had dried up a long time ago, surprised him. Enough to make him quicken his footsteps towards her suite.

  ‘Zaid...um... Your Highness?’

  He whirled back, her reversion to using his title just one more irritant in the giant cluster of irritants she represented in his life.

  He watched her stumble back from him and clawed back his control. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  In the lamplit softness of the corridor, her face was both enthralling and wary, although she held his gaze boldly. ‘I... I think I can find my way from here.’

  He checked out his surroundings, noted they were a few corridors away from where she slept. ‘I’ll see you to your door,’ he stated imperiously, then resumed walking.

  She walked by his side in silence for the rest of the way. When they reached her suite, he pushed the double doors open.

  Aisha and Nashwa turned at their entrance. At the sight of their Sultan both women dropped into low curtsies with softly lyrical greetings.

  Zaid responded, and moments later both women were rushing away. When the doors closed behind them, Esme glanced at him.

  ‘I know women in Ja’ahr aren’t
chaperoned as strictly as in other countries, but should I have been consulted as to whether I want to be gossiped about for having the Sultan in my bedroom at this time of night?’

  ‘They will be back shortly. Had I harboured other motives, I would’ve dismissed them for the night,’ he said, heat rising in his groin as thoughts of just such a scenario embedded themselves in his mind.

  A blush crept into her cheeks. Zaid wanted to trace the creamy pink skin with his fingers. The memory of its softness bit into him with a savage hunger still puzzling to him.

  ‘So what are your motives, besides triggering tongues to start wagging about me?’

  ‘Tongues will not wag about you in that way. In Ja’ahr, a woman isn’t punished for desiring a man, neither is she expected to have a chaperone guarding her virtue, unless she requests it. Women’s rights are respected, and they are free to champion their own integrity once they come of age.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear that.’

  ‘Good, so no one will condemn you for entertaining me in your suite.’

  She inhaled sharply. ‘But I’m not entertaining you here. And you could’ve said goodnight to me at the door.’

  Her forthright manner, unlike everyone else who treated him deferentially, made the blood thrum faster through his veins. ‘Perhaps it’s that captivation I spoke about that keeps me here. Perhaps I wish to mark you as mine despite...’

  Her eyes rounded, her breath growing visibly short. ‘Despite?’

  ‘Despite the instinctive warning that I should keep away from you.’

  ‘Maybe you should heed the warning. Think of the gossip.’

  ‘There will always be interest in what the King of Ja’ahr does and who he does it with. Will such attention bother you?’

  Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. It took a considerable amount of willpower not to lower his head and taste her right then and there.

  ‘Why are we talking about this?’ she asked, her own gaze dropping to his mouth.

  Lust and impatience prowled through him. ‘You really need to ask? When you can hardly breathe for all the hunger threatening to consume us right now?’