At the Sheikh's Bidding. Chantelle Shaw

to Qubbah at all, but Zahir was like a bulldozer, flattening anything that got in his way and trampling on her misgivings with arrogant disregard.

      Zahir’s eyes hardened on her before he smiled at the child in his arms. ‘Kazim wants to come with me—don’t you?’ he prompted the toddler lightly. ‘But if Erin doesn’t want to come, just you and me can go—how about that?’

      Erin’s heart missed a beat when Kazim rested his head on his uncle’s shoulder. He appeared to be completely dazzled by Zahir—and he was not the only one, she acknowledged grimly as she recalled those few moments when he had crushed her against his chest and she had inhaled his tantalising male scent.

      ‘Erin’s coming on the plane too,’ Kazim announced firmly, grinning at her from his high vantage point in Zahir’s arms.

      Some of Erin’s tension left her. Zahir might be Superman in Kazim’s eyes, but he still needed her, and she smiled back at him, her smile fading as she glared at Zahir. ‘That was a dirty, low-down trick, and you know it,’ she said furiously.

      He shrugged uninterestedly. ‘I’ll play dirty if I have to, and you would be wise to remember that,’ he advised her coldly.

      The implied threat in his voice sent a shaft of fear through her.

      He sauntered over to the door, still holding Kazim. ‘Come, Kazim, let’s go and play with your toys while Erin packs.’ He laughed at the toddler’s excited nod, but his expression was deadly serious when he looked back at Erin. ‘You have half an hour,’ he drawled, glancing at his watch. ‘I suggest you get a move on—or risk being left behind.’

      CHAPTER THREE

      IT HAD stopped snowing when they left Ingledean. The evening air was crisp and cold and Erin shivered in the cream linen skirt and jacket that she had changed into for the journey. Zahir had warned her that it would be hot in Qubbah and she only hoped he was right.

      At least she no longer looked like a ‘menial domestic’, she thought, recalling his scathing description of her when he had first learned that she was Faisal’s widow. Stung by his remarks, she had taken time with her appearance and had teamed her suit with a pale blue silk blouse, swept her unruly curls into a knot on top of her head and even added a touch of make-up—just a soft taupe shadow on her eyelids and pink gloss on her lips.

      She had felt supremely self-conscious when she’d walked down the stairs to where he’s been waiting in the hall with Kazim, and the flare of sexual heat in his eyes had caused her heart to jerk painfully beneath her ribs.

      Her doubts about taking Kazim to visit his family in Qubbah were intensifying by the minute, but she seemed to have little choice. Zahir had swept into their lives with the force of a tornado and she was still reeling from his impact.

      She and Kazim would be back at Ingledean soon, she reassured herself as the car swung out of the drive, and she turned her head for one last glimpse of the house that was the only real home she had ever known. She loved Ingledean. The wild beauty of the surrounding moors was a stark contrast to the soulless concrete tower block where she had grown up.

      If Zahir’s father was as ill as he’d described, then surely he would not want them to make a prolonged visit? She would stay in Qubbah long enough for Kazim to meet his grandfather and other relatives, and then she would bring him home to Yorkshire.

      Kazim chattered non-stop on the drive to the airport, and his excitement grew as they boarded Zahir’s private plane. Erin felt as though she had stepped into another world when she glanced around the luxurious cabin. Instead of rows of tightly packed seats there were large cream leather sofas and a plush velvet carpet. The discreet lighting created an ambience of refined luxury, and the cabin crew—two impossibly beautiful stewardesses—were charmingly attentive. Particularly towards Zahir, she noted sourly. It was little wonder that he was so arrogant when everyone he came into contact with seemed to hang on his every word. But perhaps being surrounded by yes-men—and women—was one of the perks of being incredibly wealthy.

      She’d known that Faisal was well off, but he had lived simply and she had never given a thought to his fortune. Now she was forced to acknowledge that Kazim’s family were millionaires—probably billionaires, she amended, as she debated the likelihood of the fitments in the bathroom being solid gold. She felt a churning sensation in the pit of her stomach. Money and power went hand in hand, and she could not forget Zahir’s threat that he would hire the best lawyers and fight for custody of his nephew. But surely he wouldn’t do so now that she had agreed to bring Kazim to Qubbah?

      Once they were in the air Kazim quickly became bored and fretful, despite Erin’s attempts to entertain him. He was overtired, and she was relieved when one of the stewardesses escorted them to a bedroom at the rear of the plane, where he fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. She had assumed that Zahir would continue working on his laptop, as he had done since they had taken off, but to her consternation he was waiting for her when she returned to the main cabin, and indicated that she should join him on the sofa.