The Arabian Mistress - Page 31

As Majida dipped her head and went into instant retreat, Faye was left waxen pale. The brunette’s barbs had hit a tender target. Nursery qualities? In the space of ten seconds, Faye’s buoyant inner happiness just imploded into a tight little knot of hurt and pain.

For, of course, there was no arguing with what Tariq’s venomous cousin had said. How might Tariq have felt about their marriage had she not been a success with Rafi, Basma and Hayat? Tariq had been very much taken aback by that development but had soon decided to be pleased instead. He was very anxious to do right by the children. He took his obligations seriously and might well put their needs ahead of more personal inclinations.

In addition, Tariq might have a pressing need for a child of his own to ensure the succession, but he protected Faye from pregnancy with scrupulous care. Suddenly, even though they had only been together a few weeks, that reality made her feel even more insecure. Perhaps he didn’t trust her enough yet, she decided painfully. Naturally her stridently stated apparent willingness to leave the children would leave its mark on his opinion of her. She had been dreadfully immature, throwing angry threats more for effect than anything else. But how was he to know that when she had not yet admitted that lowering truth? Perhaps he wanted to be sure that their marriage was going to last before discussing the matter of them having a child together.

Across the room, Faye’s gaze was drawn by Tariq’s proud dark head bent down to Majida’s. She stiffened, uneasy at seeing him in the other woman’s company. What clever remarks aimed at undermining Faye might the brunette plant without Tariq even realising it? Weren’t men supposed to be vulnerable to such manipulation? By the time she got the chance to look in the same direction again, all she caught was a brief glimpse of Majida slipping out the door, her profile oddly pinched and pale.

In the limo on the drive back to the Muraaba, Tariq shook her by carrying her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers in a gesture that was both teasing and sincere. ‘You were wonderful. I was very proud of you.’

She smiled, some of her tension ebbing. ‘As long as people don’t look to me to try and follow in your mother’s footsteps. Then I’d be sure to be a disappointment.’

‘Is that what made you so apprehensive?’ At her reluctant nod of confirmation, Tariq released a rueful laugh. ‘My mother was a very fine woman, but no saint. She was too aggressive in her support of the causes she took up and quite often offended people with her frank speech. It was her natural warmth which won her forgiveness…and you have that same special quality without the desire to change the whole world overnight.’

Touched by his honesty on her behalf and by that compliment, Faye felt her spirits rise again.

‘My cousin, Majida, won’t be bothering you again,’ Tariq imparted with awesome casualness. ‘I was very annoyed when I heard her speak to you in the manner that she did—’

Faye reddened. ‘You heard?’

‘I was listening and not by accident. I was already well aware that it could only have been Majida who insulted you on our wedding night.’ His gaze gleamed with wry amusement at her look of surprise. ‘I know my relatives through and through. Only Majida was likely to be unhappy with me for producing a young and beautiful wife, for the rest of my family were keen to see me married.’

‘I expect she thought she would have been a better candidate.’ Faye sighed.

‘Marriages between first cousins are frequent in Arab countries but it was a practice always frowned on within my own family circle.’

Faye stiffened. ‘So even if you had wanted to marry her, you couldn’t have done—’

‘No, I always had freedom of choice in that field. Majida has a great opinion of herself and she was jealous. But from now on she will be careful to treat you with proper respect.’

‘You really didn’t need to interfere—’

‘Oh, yes, I did. When I saw you standing there like a little girl with big hurt eyes refusing to fight your own corner, I thought to myself…isn’t that just like a woman?’

‘Meaning?’ Faye was stung on the raw by that description.

‘You see what I mean? You’re ready to shout at me already! You have tremendous spirit yet you didn’t put Majida in her place.’

Faye bristled. ‘I was trying to be dignified.’

Tariq curved a long arm round her and pulled her close. ‘I know but I was outraged to see you swallow that speech of hers. At the very least, you should have snubbed her and walked away, although I very much doubt that you will meet with such behaviour ever again. I apologise for my cousin’s rudeness.’

‘Not your problem,’ Relaxing, Faye curved round him, tucking her head under his chin, drinking in the warm, familiar scent of him with pleasure. He might not love her but he definitely did care about her. She wondered what he had said to Majida, though, and noticed that he did not offer that information.

The car phoned buzzed. With an impatient sigh, Tariq reached for it. Faye was immediately aware of the tension that flared through his big, powerful frame and anxiety made her sit up straight.

‘What’s happened?’ she prompted when he had set the phone down again. ‘It’s nothing to do with the children, is it?’

‘No,’ he reassured her instantly. ‘But gather your inner strength and hold tight to your dignity for you will need it. It seems that this must be the chosen day for our mutual families to embarrass us.’

‘Sorry, I—’

‘Your stepfather awaits us at the Muraaba and Latif, who is at home with the crowned heads of Europe, sounds like he is very much in need of rescue,’ Tariq told her gently.

‘Percy is here in Jumar…again?’ Faye gasped in dismay.

‘What shall I do with him?’ Tariq asked lazily. ‘Shall I be corrupt and have him thrown into a prison cell on some trumped-up charge such as taking up too much space on the pavement? It is only what he expects of a primitive people such as he believes us to be. It seems a real shame to disappoint him.’

Faye was not soothed by his dark humour for the mere threat of Tariq being forced to have any dealings whatsoever with Percy Smythe affronted her. ‘You don’t need to worry. I’ll get rid of him—’

‘I am not worried. I am even looking forward to the encounter.’ Tariq dealt her incredulous face a mocking smile. ‘No, I am not planning to kill him with my bare hands. Unlike Majida, who is not a laughing matter, Percy can be richly entertaining in his own peculiar way.’

Faye was thinking that only Percy would have the neck to enter the home of a man he had once tried to blackmail. ‘But what on earth does he want?’

‘Perhaps your loyal and caring brother has with immense effort recalled the existence of his kid sister and has finally noted that she has gone missing.’

‘That’s not very kind, Tariq—’

‘I don’t enjoy hearing you always ask if there have been any letters or phone calls for you,’ he countered. ‘Your family do not deserve you.’

Faye was discomfited by the way Tariq noticed everything even if he might not choose to comment on it at the time. It had worried her that she had not heard a word from Adrian. Assuming that Adrian and his family were staying with Percy, she had phoned her stepfather’s home on several occasions but, in spite of leaving messages on the answering machine, she had not been contacted. Her letter had not brought a response either.

‘Adrian’s never been great at keeping in touch. Men aren’t,’ she said defensively.

‘But he owes his freedom to you—’

‘Adrian doesn’t know about the bargain you and I made—’

‘Even the dimmest of men must have made an association by now between his own miraculous release from

prison and his sister’s vanishing act.’

‘I’ll see Percy on my own!’ Outside the Muraaba, Faye tried to dive out of the limo ahead of Tariq. ‘But I can’t think why Latif should’ve brought him here to our home.’

‘Only think of Percy let loose in the Haja loudly giving forth on his views of Jumar,’ Tariq suggested lethally. ‘He could cause a riot.’

Faye flushed and Tariq took advantage of her chagrin to close his hand over hers and walk her indoors. Latif awaited them in the entrance hall and, with a polite word of greeting and apology to Faye, turned to address Tariq in a low-pitched flood of explanatory Arabic.

An unexpected smile skimming his darkly handsome features, Tariq turned back to Faye. ‘Latif tells me that Percy has come into a large amount of money.’

‘Where from?’

‘The British lottery had bestowed its largesse on a most undeserving man.’

Faye was shaken but she did not agree with Tariq. Percy with money was surely less dangerous than Percy without money. Her fear that her stepfather now knew that she and Tariq were husband and wife and had arrived to ask for a loan receded.

When they entered the grand drawing room, Percy was holding a very fine Minton vase upside down to peer at its base. He set it down again, quite untouched by embarrassment. ‘I suppose I’m looking at the rich rewards of four hundred years of looting and plunder. No wonder your lot were always raiding each other,’ Percy commented enviously.

Faye just wanted to sink through the floor at that opening speech.

‘Welcome to the Muraaba, Percy,’ Tariq drawled with a slow smile. ‘You are quite right. My ancestors were ruthless to the extreme. They slaughtered their way to supremacy.’

Percy gave him an appreciative appraisal. ‘I knew you wouldn’t hold a grudge, Tariq. You’re a businessman just like myself.’ His small eyes flicked in his stepdaughter’s direction. ‘You’re looking a treat, Faye. But run along, there’s a good girl. I’ve got some private business to discuss with His Royal Highness.’

Faye folded her arms. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Tags: Lynne Graham Billionaire Romance
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