The Sheikh's Baby Omnibus (8 page)

Grimly he started to stride towards it.

People were starting to move towards the pavilioned area where the breakfast was about to be served, but Mariella hesitated a little uncertainly, suspecting that it would be a diplomatic move now to take Fleur over to the crèche area rather than into the pavilions. A little uncertainly she glanced round, unsure as to what to do, and hoping that she might see the prince’s helpful assistant.

Xavier saw Mariella before she saw him, his eyebrows snapping together in seething fury as he realised his suspicions had been confirmed. It was her! And he had no difficulty in guessing just what she was doing here! Some of the richest men in Zuran were here, and very few of them were unlikely to at least be tempted by the sight of her! From the top of the confection of straw and tulle she was wearing on top of her head to the tip of the dainty little pink-painted toenails revealed by shoes so fragile that he was surprised that she dared risk wearing them, especially when carrying her child, she looked a picture of innocent vulnerability. But of course she was no such thing! And dressing the baby in an outfit obviously chosen to match hers seemed to proclaim their mother and baby status to the world.

Unaware of the fact that Nemesis and all the Furies were about to bear down on her with grim zeal in the shape of a very angry and disapproving male, Mariella shifted Fleur’s weight in her arm.

‘Very fetching! Trust you to be here, and with the very latest European accessory—I have to tell you, though, that you’ve misjudged its effect in Zuran!’

‘Xavier!’ Mariella felt her legs wobble treacherously in her high heels as she stared at him in shock.

‘I don’t know how you managed to get past the security staff—although I suspect I can guess how!’ he told her cynically. ‘Kept women and those who sell their favours to the highest bidder are normally kept out of such events.’

Kept women! His condemnation stung not just her pride, but her sense of sisterly protection for Tanya. She knew that if this conversation were to continue, she would have to explain she was not Fleur’s mother, but right now she was due in the pavilion for breakfast. She was here on business and she would not jeopardise the commission by having an argument with Xavier in front of the prince! ‘I refuse to speak with you if you are going to be so rude,’ she said tersely. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go and join the others.’ A flash of light to her left made her gasp as she realised a photographer had just caught the two of them on camera!

‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing here,’ Xavier told her challengingly. ‘You know that Khalid is going to come to his senses and realise just what you are, and you’re looking for someone to take his place, and finance you.’

‘Finance her!’ The feathers nestling in the swathes of chiffon on Mariella’s hat trembled as she shook with outrage.

‘For your information, I do not need anyone to finance me, as you put it. I am completely financially independent.’ As she saw his expression Mariella turned on her heel.

Hurrying away from him, she tensed as she suddenly felt a touch on her arm, but when she looked round it was only the prince’s assistant.

‘The prince would like you to join his table for breakfast, Miss Sutton,’ he told her. ‘If I may escort you first to the crèche,’ he added tactfully.

Angrily Xavier watched as the crowd swallowed her up. How dared she lie to him and claim to be financially independent, especially when she knew he knew the truth about her?

She was the most scheming and deceitful woman he had ever met, a woman he was a total fool to spare the smallest thought for!

* * *

T
HE
CONVERSATION
AROUND
the breakfast table was certainly very cosmopolitan, Mariella decided as she listened to two other women discussing the world’s best spa resorts, whilst the men debated the various merits of differing bloodstock.

After the breakfast was over and people were beginning to drift away, the prince came over to Mariella.

‘My assistant will telephone you to make formal arrangements for us to discuss my commission,’ he told her.

‘I was wondering if it would be possible for me to visit your new enclosure?’ Mariella asked him. ‘Or, failing that, perhaps see some plans?’

She had the beginnings of a vague idea which, if the prince approved, would be innovative, but first she needed to see the enclosure to see if it would work.

‘Certainly. I shall see that it is arranged.’

As he escorted her outside Mariella saw Xavier standing several yards away, her face beginning to burn as he looked at the prince and then allowed his glance to drift with slow and deliberate insolence over her, assessing her as though...as though she were a piece of...of flesh he was contemplating buying, Mariella recognised.

‘Highness!’

‘Xavier.’ As the two men exchanged greetings Mariella turned to leave, but somehow Xavier had moved and was blocking her way.

‘I see that you do not have Fleur with you!’

‘No,’ Mariella agreed coldly. ‘She is in the crèche. I am just on my way to collect her.’

‘You know Miss Sutton, Xavier? I hadn’t realised. I am about to avail myself of her exceptional services, and she has promised me something extremely innovative.’

Mariella winced as she recognised from his expression just what interpretation Xavier had put on the prince’s remarks. Excusing herself, she managed to push her way past Xavier, but to her consternation he only allowed her to take a few steps into the shadows cast by one of the pavilions before catching up with her and taking hold of her arm.

‘My word, but you are a witch! The prince is renowned for his devotion to his wife and yet he speaks openly of entering a relationship with you!’

Mariella did not dignify that with an answer. Instead she bared her teeth at him in a savage little smile as she told him sweetly, ‘There, you see, you need not have gone to all that trouble to protect your cousin. There is no need for you to go running to him now to tell him all about your sordid and appalling behaviour towards me. After all, once he gets to hear about the fact that the prince is paying for my...expertise...’

‘You dare to boast openly about it?’ Xavier was gripping her with both hands now, his fingers digging into the vulnerable flesh of her upper arms.

To her own surprise Mariella discovered that winding Xavier up was great fun and she was actually enjoying herself.

‘Why shouldn’t I?’ she taunted him. ‘I am proud of the fact that my skills are so recognised and highly thought of, and that I am able to earn a very respectable living for myself by employing them!’

As his fingers bit even harder into her arms she viewed the ominous white line around his mouth with a dangerous sense of reckless euphoria.

‘In fact, in some circles I have already made quite a name for myself.’

She had gone too far, Mariella realised as her euphoria was suddenly replaced with apprehension.

‘You are proud of being known as a high-class whore? Personally I would have classed you merely as an expensive one!’

Mariella was just about to slap him when he said, ‘If you strike me here you could well end up in prison, whereas if I do this...’

She gasped as he bent his head and subjected her to a savagely demanding kiss, arching her whole body back as she fought not to come into contact with his, and lost that fight. In the shadows of the pavilion he used his physical strength to show her what she already knew—that despite his rage and contempt he was physically aroused by her! Just as she was by him?

He released her so abruptly that she almost stumbled. As he turned away from her he reached into his robe and removed a wallet, opening it to throw down some money.

White-faced, Mariella stared at him. Deep down inside herself she knew that she had deliberately incited and goaded him, but not for this.

‘Pick it up!’ he told her savagely.

Mariella took a deep breath and gathered what was left of her dignity around her. ‘Very well,’ she agreed calmly. ‘I am sure the charity will be grateful for it, Xavier. I understand it helps to support abandoned children.’

She prayed that he would think the glitter in her eyes was caused by her contempt and not by her tears.

Silently Xavier watched her go. His own behaviour had shocked him but he was too stubbornly proud to admit it—and even more stubbornly determined not to acknowledge what had actually caused it.

How could he admit to jealousy over the favours of such a woman? How could he acknowledge that his own desire to possess her went far, far beyond the physical desire for just her body? He could not and he did not intend to do so!

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘A
FRIEZE
?’

The prince frowned as he looked at Mariella.

It was three days since the charity breakfast, and two since she had visited the new enclosure.

After what had happened with Xavier, the temptation to simply pack her bags and return home had been very strong, but stubbornly she had refused to give in to it.

It wasn’t her fault that he had totally misinterpreted things. Well, at least not entirely! And besides... Besides, the commission the prince was offering her had far too much appeal for her as an artist to want to turn it down, never mind what her agent was likely to say!

So instead of worrying about Xavier she had spent the last two days working furiously on the idea she had had for the prince’s new enclosure.

‘The semi-circular walkway that leads to the enclosure would be perfect for such a project,’ she told him. ‘I could paint your horses there in a variety of different ways, either in their boxes, or in a string. I have spoken to your trainers and grooms and they have told me that they all have their individual personalities and little quirks, so if I painted them in a string I could include some of these. Solomon in particular, they tell me, does not like anyone else to lead the string, and then Saladin will not leave his box until his groom has removed the cat who is his stable companion. Shazare can’t tolerate other horses with white socks, and—’

The prince laughed. ‘I can see how well you have done your research, and, yes, I like what you are suggesting. It will be an extremely large project, though.’

Mariella gave a small shrug.

‘It will allow me to paint the animals lifesize, certainly.’

‘It will need to be done in time for the official opening of the stables.’

‘And when will that be?’ Mariella asked him.

‘In around five months’ time,’ he told her.

Mariella did a quick mental calculation, and then exhaled in relief. That would give her more than enough time to get the work completed.

‘It would take me about a month or two to finish. It has to be your decision, Highness,’ she informed him diplomatically.

‘Give me a few days to think about it. It is not that I don’t like the idea. I do, but in this part of the world, we still put a great deal of store on “face”, and therefore, no matter now innovative the idea, if it is not completed on time, then I shall lose face in the eyes of both my allies and my competitors. I certainly have no qualms about your work or your commitment to it, though.’

He needed time to check up on her and her past record of sticking to her contracted time schedules, Mariella knew, but that didn’t worry her. She was always extremely efficient about sticking to a completion date once it was agreed.

* * *

T
HE
NURSEMAID
PROVIDED
by the prince to look after Fleur whilst she had been working smiled at her as she went to collect the baby.

‘She is a very good baby,’ the young woman told Mariella approvingly.

Once she was back in the Beach Club bungalow, Mariella tried to ring Tanya to both update her on Fleur’s progress and to tell her about her work, but she was only able to reach her sister’s message service.

If the prince did give her this commission, then at least she would be earning enough to ensure that Tanya did not have to work away from home. She knew her sister wanted to be independent, but there were Fleur’s needs to be considered as well, and besides...

She was going to miss Fleur dreadfully when the time came to hand her back to her mother, Mariella acknowledged. She was just beginning to realise what her determination never to become involved in a permanent relationship was going to mean to her in terms of missing out on motherhood.

* * *

A
LITTLE
NERVOUSLY
,
Mariella smoothed down the fabric of her skirt. She had arrived at the palace half an hour ago to see the prince, who was going to give her his verdict on whether or not he wanted her to go ahead with the frieze.

A shy nursemaid had already arrived to take Fleur from her, and now Mariella peeped anxiously at her watch. Fleur hadn’t slept very well the previous night and Mariella suspected that she was cutting another new tooth.

‘Miss Sutton, His Highness will see you now.’

‘Ah, Mariella...’

‘Highness,’ Mariella responded as she was waved onto one of the silk-covered divans set around the walls of the huge audience room.

Almost immediately a servant appeared to offer her coffee and delicious-looking almond pastries glistening with honey and stuffed with raisins.

‘I am pleased to inform you that I have decided to commission you to work on the frieze,’ the prince announced. ‘The sooner you can complete it, the better—we have lots of other work to do before the official opening.’

Quickly Mariella put down her coffee-cup and then covered it with her hand as she saw that the hovering servant was about to refill it.

Whilst he padded away silently the prince frowned.

‘However, there is one matter that is of some concern to me.’

He was still worrying about her ability to get the work finished on time, Mariella guessed, but instead of confirming her suspicions the prince got up and picked up a newspaper from the low table in front of him.

‘This is our popular local newspaper,’ he told her. ‘Its gossip column is a great favourite and widely read.’

As he spoke he was opening the paper.

‘There is here a report of our charity breakfast, and, as you will see, a rather intimate photograph of you with Sheikh Xavier Al Agir.’

Mariella’s heart bumped against the bottom of her chest, her fingers trembling slightly as she studied the photograph the prince was showing her.

It took her several seconds to recognise that it had been taken when she and Xavier had been quarrelling, because it looked for all the world as though they were indeed engaged in a very intimate conversation, their heads close together, her lips parted, Xavier’s head bent towards her, his gaze fixed on her mouth, whilst Fleur, whom she was holding in her arms, beamed happily at him.

Even though she had not eaten any of the pastries, Mariella was beginning to feel sick.

The article accompanying the photograph read:

Who was the young woman who Sheikh Xavier was so intimately engaged in conversation with? The sheikh is known for his strong moral beliefs and his dedication to his role as leader of the Al Agir tribe, and yet he was seen recently at the prince’s charity breakfast, engaged in what appeared to be a very private conversation with one specific female guest on two separate occasions! Could it be that the sheikh has finally chosen someone to share his life? And what of the baby the unknown young woman is holding? What is her connection with the sheikh?

‘In this country, unlike your own, a young woman alone with a child does cause a certain amount of speculation and disapproval. It is plain from the tone of this article that the reporter believes you and Xavier to be Fleur’s parents...’ the prince told Mariella, his voice very stern.

‘But that is not true, Your Highness. We are not,’ Mariella protested immediately. ‘Fleur is my niece.’

‘Of course. I fully accept what you are saying, but I think for your own sake that some kind of formal response does need to be made to this item. Which is why I have already instructed my staff to get in touch with the paper and to give them the true facts and to explain that Fleur is in fact your niece and that you are in Zuran to work for me. Hopefully that will be an end to the matter!’

* * *

M
ARIELLA
FROWNED
AS
for the third time in as many hours her sister’s mobile was switched onto her message-taking service.

Why wasn’t Tanya returning her calls?

Because of the length of time it was going to take her to complete the frieze, it had been decided that, instead of her returning to England as had originally been planned, she and Fleur should remain in Zuran so that she could commence work immediately.

The prince had announced that she would be provided with a small apartment and the use of a car, and Mariella was planning a shopping trip to equip both herself and Fleur for their unexpected extended stay.

Fleur’s new tooth had now come through and the baby was back to her normal happy self.

Someone was knocking on the door of the bungalow and Mariella went to open it, expecting to see a member of the Beach Club’s staff, but instead to her consternation it was Xavier who was standing outside.

Without waiting for her invitation he strode into the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

‘Perhaps you can explain the meaning of
this
to me,’ he challenged her sarcastically, throwing down the copy of the newspaper she had been reading earlier, open at the gossip column page.

‘I don’t have to explain anything to you, Xavier,’ Mariella replied as calmly as she could.

‘It says here that you are not Fleur’s mother.’

‘That’s right,’ she agreed. ‘I’m not! I’m her aunt. My sister Tanya is her mother...and the woman who I have had to listen to you denouncing and abusing so slanderously and unfairly! And, for your information, Tanya is not, as you have tried to imply, some...some... She is a professional singer and dancer, and, whilst you may not consider her good enough for your precious cousin, let me tell you that in my opinion he is the one who isn’t good enough for her...not for her and certainly not for Fleur!’ All the anger and anguish Mariella had been bottling up inside her was exploding in a surge of furious words.

‘Your cousin told Tanya that he loved her and that he was committed to her and then he left her and Fleur! Have you any idea just what that did to Tanya? I was there when Fleur was born, I heard Tanya cry out for the man she loved. It’s all so easy for a man, isn’t it? If he doesn’t want the responsibility of a woman’s love or the child they create together, he can just walk away. You don’t know what it means to be a child growing up knowing that your father didn’t want or love you, and knowing too that your mother could never again be the person she was before her heart was broken. I would never, ever let any man hurt me the way Tanya has been hurt!’

‘You wantonly and deliberately let me think that you and Khalid were lovers,’ Xavier interrupted her savagely, ignoring her emotional outburst.

‘Well, at first I thought you were Fleur’s father, so I assumed you knew I wasn’t Fleur’s mother. But, face it, you wanted to think the worst you could about me, Xavier. You enjoyed thinking it! Revelled in it. I tried to warn you that you were getting it wrong, when you totally misinterpreted those comments by the prince! Remember?’

‘Have you any idea just what problems this is causing?’ he demanded harshly.

‘What I have done?’ Mariella gave him a disbelieving look. ‘My sister is a modern young woman who lives a modern young woman’s life. Her biggest mistake, in my opinion, was to fall in love with your wretched cousin, and yet you have talked about her as though—!’ Mariella compressed her lips as she saw the flash of temper darkening his eyes.

‘Are you trying to say to me that you too are a modern young woman who lives a modern young woman’s life, because if you are I have to tell you—!’

Xavier broke off abruptly, remembering the character references the prince had insisted on him reading when he had stormed into the palace earlier in the afternoon, demanding an immediate audience with him.

Mariella was not only a very highly acclaimed artist, she was also, it seemed, a young woman of the highest moral integrity—in every facet of her life!

‘That is none of your business,’ Mariella told him angrily.

‘To the contrary. It is very much my business!’

Mariella stared at him, her heart thumping.

‘Fleur is my cousin’s child, which makes her a member of my family. Since you are also of her blood, that also makes you a member of my family. As the head of that family I am, therefore, responsible for both of you. There is no way I can allow you to live here in Zuran alone, or work unchaperoned for the prince. Our family pride and honour would be at risk! It is my responsibility!’

‘What?’ Mariella looked at him in open angry contempt. ‘How can you possibly lay claim to any right to pride or honour? You, a man who was quite prepared to take the mother of his cousin’s child to bed, just so that you could enforce your wish to keep them apart? This has got to be some kind of joke! I mean, you...you abuse me verbally, and physically. You insult and denigrate me and...and now you have the gall to turn round and start preaching to me about pride or honour! And as for your so-called sense of responsibility! You don’t even begin to understand the meaning of the word, as decent people understand it!’

Mariella could see the tension in his jaw, but she suspected that it was caused by anger rather than any sense of shame.

‘The situation has now changed!’

‘Changed? Because you have discovered that instead of being, and I quote, your cousin’s “whore” paid to have sex with men, I am a career woman.’

‘I have received a...a communication from Khalid confirming that he is Fleur’s father, and because of that—’ his mouth tightened ‘—I have to consider Fleur’s position, her future...her reputation!’

‘Her reputation!’ Mariella gave him a scathing look. ‘Fleur is four months old! And anyway, His Highness has already done everything that is necessary to stem any potential gossip.’

‘I have been to see His Highness myself to inform him that, whilst you are here in Zuran, you will be living beneath the protection of my roof! Naturally he is in total agreement!’

Mariella couldn’t believe her ears.

‘Oh, no,’ she denied, shaking her head vigorously from side to side. ‘No, no, no. No way!’

‘Mariella. Please see it as a way for me to make amends by offering you my hospitality. Besides, you have no choice—the prince expects it.’

He meant it, Mariella recognised as she searched his implacable features.

‘I shall wait here until you have packed and then we will return to my home. I have arranged for my widowed great-aunt to act as your chaperone for the duration of your stay in Zuran.’