LYNNE GRAHAM - The Arabian Mistress

With that conviction in mind and ignoring the servants following never more than a dozen feet from her, Faye explored until she found a room literally walled with packed bookshelves. Her search took some time but eventually she found a map of Jumar which had the airport clearly marked. Noticing that the airport appeared to be a much greater distance from the city than it actually was, she assumed that it was an older map for the city had grown much larger in more recent times.

Concealing the map in her bag, she settled down in a magnificent reception room on a low traditional divan. Refreshments were brought to her there. More grovelling, all the staff seeming so scared and desperate to please. At the same time, her dazed eyes roamed over the spectacular exoticism of her surroundings. Rich geometrical patterns of faience tiles adorned the walls, some of which were even studded with what appeared to be precious stones, and the elaborate domed ceiling far above appeared to be composed of tiny coloured glittering mirror-glass mosaics. Superb Persian rugs lay on the pale marble floor. The divan on which she sat was covered with hand-painted precious silk. This was where Tariq had grown up, she found herself thinking, against a fantastic and opulent backdrop so dissimilar to hers, it took her breath away.

A wave of what appeared to be collective anxiety sent the maids into retreat a mere minute before Faye heard a man’s footsteps echoing in the main hall. Seconds later, Tariq strode in and stilled to view her.

His lean, strong face was taut. ‘Latif has informed me that there had been some incident between you and Rafi—’

Eyes flaring with anger as she recalled the shocking episode she had witnessed earlier, Faye shot to her feet in full defensive mode. ‘So someone has complained about my behaviour, have they? Well, let me tell you, you had better get me on a plane home because I have no plans to stand by and watch any child or indeed any adult beating servants!’

His superb bone structure clenched hard. ‘Say that again—’

‘You mean once wasn’t enough? What sort of primitive country is this? What kind of a society allows a small child to behave like that?’

Pale with anger beneath his bronze skin, Tariq breathed. ‘Are you telling me that Rafi struck one of the household staff?’

Breathing in deep, Faye described the scene she had interrupted in a few pithy words.

‘Rafi is mine to deal with,’ Tariq growled, the darkening of outrage accentuating his bold cheekbones. ‘We are not a primitive country. I will have you know that assault is assault in Jumar, no matter who the victim or who the perpetrator. I am very grateful that you intervened but do not judge a whole people by the behaviour of my obnoxious little brother!’

‘L-little brother?’ Her cheeks were now glowing red as fire. ‘Rafi is your little brother? But if what you are saying is true, why didn’t someone step in to assert control over him?’

‘Who? My father died when he was three. His mother died six months ago. She was an evil-tempered woman from another Gulf state.’ His stunning dark eyes had a grim light. ‘She taught Rafi to behave as he does. The servants who look after him were hers and the spirit was knocked out of them long before they accompanied their mistress to Jumar. They would never dare to try and restrain Rafi. It is an offence to lay hands on anyone of royal blood—’

‘Is it?’

‘That law was not made to allow a child to rampage out of control! I was reluctant to deprive Rafi of the nursemaids who have looked after him since he was a baby but I see now, it must be done. He has to be taught how to behave.’

‘What age is he?’

‘Four…old enough and bright enough to know better. I shall deal with him.’ Tariq headed for the door like a male with a target and a definite purpose in mind.

Faye rushed after him. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I can see what you think I’m going to do but you’re wrong,’ Tariq spelt out in impatient reproof as he read her anxious expression. ‘I may know little about children but I hope I know enough not to repay violence with violence. I will talk to him and remove certain privileges as a punishment.’

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