Now why had her voice started wavering? Why did she care about the rejection of a man who had never wanted her born? She cleared her throat, drank some pomegranate juice and continued. ‘And he didn’t. See me, that is. We were living on Cronarty by then. My mother never really recovered from his rejection. She kind of went to pieces—and when we heard that he’d died very suddenly she insisted we go to the funeral to pay our respects.’ Caitlin shivered, wishing she’d brought one of her thick Scottish sweaters down to dinner with her after all.
Her mother had been slightly drunk and very determined—and no words of Caitlin’s had been able to make her see sense. At eight years old she’d been powerless to prevent her mother from taking her along to the service, where she had made the discovery that her birth father had been a very rich and powerful man indeed. She remembered the sickly scent of the white lilies which had been massed outside the huge church and the startled faces of the black-clothed mourners when they had appeared. Sobbing, her head dramatically covered with an ebony mantilla, her mother had dragged Caitlin towards the door but someone must have worked out who they were.
‘And?’ Kadir prompted.
Caitlin bit her lip. It had been the single most embarrassing event of her life. ‘We weren’t wanted there—obviously. Two women stepped forward. They were the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. They must have been a decade or so older than me. Their faces were icy and their eyes were filled with contempt. I remember they barely opened their lips as they spoke. They told us that if we didn’t leave immediately of our own accord, then they would call security. I discovered afterwards that they were his daughters, too. But legitimate, of course.’
‘By the desert storm!’ To her surprise, Kadir had brought his fist crashing down hard on the table so that all the golden cutlery rattled. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
‘When was I going to do that, Kadir?’ she demanded. ‘We didn’t exactly do much talking at our first meeting, did we? Even if we’d had time, it’s not really the best conversational ice-breaker in the world. And when you found me again, you were too busy being angry and taking control of all our lives for me to want to bring it up. Anyway, what difference does it make?’
Kadir shook his head and for a moment he stared straight ahead in silence, as the tall candles guttered on the table between them. He couldn’t put it into words, but it had made a difference. He felt the unexpected clench of his heart as he imagined her pain and humiliation at being ejected from the church. He could picture only too well the inebriated mother who had dragged her there. If he had been in full possession of those facts about her past, would he still have brought her out here, without her permission? He felt a stab of guilt. He didn’t know. He could never know. But surely he could show her a little consideration from here on in.
‘It is late and your eyelids are growing heavy,’ he said softly, rising to his feet. ‘I think we’ve said everything there is to be said for tonight. Come, Caitlin, I shall accompany you to your suite.’
‘Thank you.’ For a moment she looked a little taken aback by his kindness and then, in a flurry of ice blue silk, she got to her feet.
They walked towards her suite mostly in silence, though occasionally he took the time to point out a part
icularly beautiful artefact and, once, to pause at the circular window which, at least twelve times a year, framed the full moon. She made all the appropriate responses to his remarks but he thought she seemed preoccupied. And when they finally reached her door, Kadir could see uncertainty clouding her freckled face, which somehow pierced his conscience far more than her defiance had done earlier.
‘Can I ask you something?’ she said.
Unexpectedly, the corners of his lips twitched. ‘You haven’t held back so far.’
‘Even though nothing I say ever achieves what I want it to achieve?’ she returned, before sucking in a deep breath. ‘But this is different.’
‘Oh?’
She twisted her ringless fingers together before looking him straight in the eye. ‘It’s important for us to monitor how well Cameron settles in, because I’m sure that even you...’
Her words tailed off and when she looked at him, there was something beseeching in her gaze.
‘Even I, what, Caitlin?’ he prompted sardonically.
‘If we discover he’s desperately unhappy and homesick. If, for example, he misses Hamish—’
‘Hamish?’ A sudden spear of jealousy shot through him. ‘Who the hell is Hamish?’
‘His hamster. Mrs McTavish is looking after him at the moment. They have another two hamsters so it’s no bother for her.’ She hesitated. ‘But if, for any reason, he really wants to go home after a few days, then you’ll let him?’
Kadir knew what she was doing and thought how clever she was. For he could hardly lay claim to wanting to be a good father if he then did the very thing which would make his child unhappy, could he? Slowly, he nodded, picking his next words with care. ‘How can I refuse such a request?’ he questioned. ‘All I ask in return, is that you will do nothing to try to influence the child in his decision.’
Their eyes met in a long moment. ‘Touché!’ she said softly, and then she smiled.
It was a rueful smile but it was the first one he’d seen since re-entering her life and the effect of her soft curving lips momentarily captivated him. Her ice blue gaze pulled him in like a magnet and suddenly Kadir found he couldn’t look away. And neither, it seemed, could she, for she was staring at him as if she were in a trance.
Clad in the traditional tunic of a high-born Xulhabian woman, she looked both strange and yet deeply familiar. Her long red hair tumbled all the way down her back and Kadir longed to feel those glossy tendrils trickling through his fingers once more.
He sensed that if he kissed her now he would meet no opposition. And he wanted that. He wanted that very badly. But with desire came the certain knowledge that Caitlin Fraser had once possessed the power to make him lose control, and he couldn’t risk that happening again. Not right now. Not until he had achieved what he’d set out to achieve.
And that was the bottom line. This was all about Cameron and Xulhabi, not him. His own foolish and transitory desires must be sublimated for the time being. He must determine his son’s claim on the land he would one day inherit and nothing could be allowed to divert him from that aim.
Because while desire ebbed and flowed like the tide, he must be nothing but steadfast when it came to the continuity of his bloodline.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CAITLIN COULDN’T SLEEP.