The Desert King's Secret Heir

She made herself nod and put down the bags. ‘I’ll get him.’

‘You can introduce me.’ When she hesitated Idris continued. ‘It will make things easier. It will be scary enough for him facing the crowd outside, even with my security men keeping them back.’

Arden hadn’t thought of that. It was odd, and unsettling, having someone else point out what her son needed before she did. She couldn’t get her brain past the immediate. Right now that was overwhelming. Introducing Dawud to his father. The man she’d thought he’d never know.

The doorknob felt slippery in her clammy hand and she breathed deep, securing a smile for her son. This had to be done and it was up to her to ensure he felt none of the tension crawling up her spine and along her hunching shoulders. Deliberately she pushed back her shoulder blades and walked into the room.

‘Mama!’ He swung round as the song ended, a huge smile on his face.

Reaction hit her square in the chest as she met his laughing gaze. Eyes of dark brown velvet, so like his father’s. When he’d been born they’d been a constant, difficult reminder of the man who’d duped and deserted her. But over the years they’d become simply Dawud’s eyes.

Now, seeing the similarities, not just in his eyes but in his whole face, from his jet dark hair to his determined chin, a powerful tide of emotion rose. Arden wobbled to a halt.

‘Mama?’ Dawud scrambled to his feet and came towards her, arms outstretched. But before he reached her he halted, head turning, eyes growing.

Arden sensed rather than saw Idris beside her. It was as if he generated his own force field, one that made her flesh prickle and tighten whenever he got close.

Was he as nervous as she? As if this were an irrevocable step beyond which the future could never be the same?

She fell to her knees and held her arms out for Dawud. ‘Hello, darling.’ Dawud’s eyes remained fixed on the man looming over the pair of them, his head craning high to take him in.

Arden was just about to scoop him up when she felt a brush of air beside her as, in a single movement, Idris sank to the floor, settling cross-legged. His knee touched hers but he didn’t seem to notice. His attention was fixed on Dawud.

Idris leaned forward a fraction and said something in his own language. Something melodic yet strangely husky, and made a fluid, graceful movement with one powerful hand from his face to his chest.

For a second Dawud stood motionless, then a smile creased his features. ‘That!’ He pointed at Idris, first his head then his chest.

Idris made the gesture again, slower this time, a courtly gesture of greeting, she realised. Dawud clapped his hands and chuckled, then waved one hand in front of his face, trying to emulate the gesture.

Again that unseen cord tugged at her insides. To watch Dawud smiling at his father, trying to copy him...it was something she’d never expected to see. Not after the hell she’d gone through trying to locate Shakil and finally acknowledging defeat. She didn’t even know if she wanted to see them together, yet the shining joy in her son’s face was hard to resist.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.