Postcards From Paris: Bound by His Desert Diamond / Amorous Liaisons / The Secret to Marrying Marchesi. Sarah Mayberry
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controlled the proceedings with masterful authority. There was no sign of his brother at the meeting, or even any mention of him. It appeared that Zahir was the man in charge here. The power behind the throne.
They were standing at the top of a short flight of steps, preparing to leave the building, when Zahir suddenly stopped short, unexpectedly moving his arm around Anna’s waist to pull her to his side. Looking outside, Anna could see a small crowd of people had gathered, leaning up against the ornate railings, peering up at the building expectantly.
Pulling out his phone, Zahir barked orders into it and from nowhere several security guards appeared. Dispatching a couple of them into the crowd, he waited impatiently, his grip around her waist tightening with every passing second. Anna could see a vein pulsing in his neck as his eyes darted over the crowd, missing nothing, a sudden stillness setting his features in stone. He reminded her of a dog on a leash, waiting to be set free to chase its quarry.
‘What is it? What’s the matter?’
‘That’s what I’d like to find out.’
The security guards returned and there was a brief conversation, during which she saw Zahir scowl, then look back at her with obvious contempt.
‘It would seem that the crowd are here to see you.’
‘Oh.’ Anna stood a little straighter, smoothing the creases of her dress. ‘That’s nice.’
‘Nice?’ He repeated the word as if it was poison in his mouth. ‘I fail to see what’s nice about it.’
‘Well, it’s not surprising that people want to meet me. They are bound to be curious about your fiancée. I suggest we go out there, shake some hands and say hello.’
‘We will do no such thing.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘Because there is a time and a place for such things. I have no intention of doing an impromptu meet-and-greet on the steps of the Assembly House.’
‘These things don’t always have to be formal, Zahir. It doesn’t work like that.’
‘In Nabatean things work the way I say they will work.’
Anna bit down hard on her lip. There really was no answer to that.
‘And, quite apart from anything else, there is the security issue.’
‘Well, they don’t look dangerous to me.’ Staring out at the swelling crowd, Anna stood her ground. ‘And besides...’ she glanced at the security guards around them ‘...I’m sure these guys are more than capable of dealing with any potential trouble.’
‘There will be no trouble. We walk out of here and get straight into the limousine without speaking to anyone—without even looking at anyone. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Crystal clear.’ Anna shot him an icy glare. Not that she intended to follow his dictate. If she wanted to smile at the crowd, maybe offer a little wave, she jolly well would. Who did he think he was with his stupid rules?
But before she had the chance to do anything she found herself being bundled down the steps, pressed so closely to Zahir’s side that she could barely breathe, let alone acknowledge the crowd. She could just about hear their cheers, hear them calling her name, before Zahir, with his hand on the back of her head, pushed her into the car, following behind her with the weight of his body and instructing the driver to move off before the car door was even shut.
‘For heaven’s sake.’ Anna turned to look at him, eyes flashing. ‘What was all that about?’
Adjusting the sleeves of his jacket, Zahir sat back, staring straight ahead.
‘Anyone would think you were ashamed of me, bundling me into the car like a criminal.’
‘Not ashamed of you, Annalina. It was simply a question of getting you into the car as fast as possible and with the minimum of harassment.’
‘The only person harassing me was you. That was a few people—your people, I might add—who wanted to greet us. If you want real harassment, you should try having thirty or forty paparazzi swarming around you, baying for your blood.’
Zahir shot her a sharp glance. ‘And this has happened to you?’
‘Yes.’ Anna shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable with this subject, especially as Zahir’s eyes were now trained on her face, waiting for an explanation. ‘When my engagement to Prince Henrik ended.’ She lowered her voice. ‘And other times too. Though, that was the worst.’
‘Well, you will never have to endure such indignity again. I will make sure of that.’
Anna turned to look out of the window, her hands clasped in her lap. He spoke with such authority, such confidence, she had to admit it was comforting. All her life she’d felt as if she was on her own, fighting her own battles, facing up to the trials and traumas, of which she’d suffered more than her fair share, without anyone there to help her, to be on her side. Now, it seemed, she had a protector.
Suddenly she knew she could put her trust in Zahir, that she would put her life in his hands without a second thought, for that matter. Whether it was the paparazzi, a marauding army or a herd of stampeding elephants, come to that, he would deal with it. Such was his presence, the sheer overwhelming power of him. But the flip side was that he was also an arrogant, cold-blooded control freak. And one, Anna was shocked to realise, who was starting to dominate her every thought.
The rest of the journey back was conducted in silence, apart from the sound of Zahir’s fingers jabbing at his mobile phone. Only when they were nearing the palace gates did he look up, letting out a curse under his breath. For there was a crowd here too, gathered around the palace gates, including some photographers who had climbed up onto the railings to get a better view.
‘Dear God.’ Zahir growled under his breath. ‘Is this what I have to expect now, every time I leave the palace, every time I go anywhere with you?’
‘I don’t see your problem with it.’ Anna twitched haughtily. ‘You should be pleased that the people of Nabatean are interested in us. That they have gone to the trouble of coming to see us. Don’t you want to be popular, for people to like you?’
‘I don’t care a damn whether people like me or not.’
‘Well, maybe it’s time you started to care.’
There—that had told him. Even so she averted her gaze, having no wish to witness the thunder she knew she would see there. Sitting up straighter, she arranged her hair over her shoulders. The palace gates had opened now and as the crowd parted to let their car through she turned to look out of the window and smiled brightly at everyone, giving a regal wave, the way she had been taught to do as a child. The crowd cheered in response, waving back and calling her name. Small children were held aloft to get a glimpse of her. Cameras flashed. Everybody loved it.
Well, not exactly everybody. A quick glance at her fiancé revealed a scowl that would make a tiger turn tail and run. But Anna refused to be cowed. She had done nothing wrong. Zahir Zahani was the one who needed to lighten up, respect his people by acknowledging their presence. Maybe even look as if he was a tiny bit proud of her. Though there was precious little chance of that.
Once inside, Zahir started to stride away, presumably intending to abandon her once again. But Anna had had enough of this. Taking several quick steps to catch up with him, she reached out, the touch of her hand on his arm stopping him in his tracks.
‘I was just wondering...’ She hesitated, pulling away her hand. ‘Whether we would be having dinner together tonight.’
Zahir scowled, as if the possibility had hitherto never entered his mind. ‘Dinner?’
‘Yes.’ She was tempted to point out that it was the meal at the end of the day that civilised people tended to share together. Self-preservation made her hold her tongue.
‘That’s not something