And even though inside Caitlin was glowing with maternal pride at the compliment, she couldn’t shake off her resentment towards the man who was making it. She felt manipulated and she wasn’t quite sure how to liberate herself from that feeling. ‘Good to know,’ she said tightly, before turning to her son. ‘Shall we go and have some breakfast now?’
Breakfast was obviously a poor substitute for being amongst a stable full of snorting thoroughbreds but Cameron nodded and obediently took his mother’s outstretched hand.
She met Kadir’s eyes, hoping that her gaze managed to convey the fact that she was seriously cheesed off. And confused. And out of her depth, like a novice swimmer who had stupidly jumped into the deep end of the pool. ‘Please excuse us.’
‘Of course.’ He inclined his head. ‘Makim will show you the way back. I have some work I must attend to, if you don’t mind?’
‘I don’t mind at all,’ she said truthfully.
Because Kadir’s company was the last thing she felt like right now. At least with Makim she wasn’t plagued by doubts and feelings she wished would go away. Stupid, conflicting feelings which made her stupidly susceptible to the Sheikh’s potent charisma, even though she resented his high-handed and deeply patrician attitude.
With Cameron chattering beside her, they returned to their expansive quarters and, once seated at the dining table, Caitlin forced herself to try and eat some breakfast. But she felt disorientated as she peeled an orange for her son and fanned the segments onto a plate. It occurred to her that she was still in a sense of shock. Everything had happened so quickly. Everything still was happening so quickly and she was just sitting back like a spectator and letting it. Maybe it was time she stopped being so passive around the mighty Sheikh, and started being a little proactive.
She and Cameron spent much of the morning in the swimming pool and, after lunch, Caitlin took her son on an extensive tour of the palace and the grounds. They played ping-pong in the games room, watched a cartoon about the travails of a mermaid with very similar hair colour to her own, and were just about to sit down to an early dinner with Morag when Kadir surprised them by making a sudden, unannounced appearance—heralded by an over-the-top display of deep bowing from the attendant servants. Annoyingly, Caitlin’s heart started beating out a primitive tattoo of excitement as his dark figure dominated the entrance to the lavish dining room.
‘Do you mind if I join you?’ he questioned.
What could Caitlin say, when any words of objection would have been drowned out by Cameron’s enthusiastic squeals and Morag’s smiling agreement? ‘Of course not,’ she said coolly. ‘Though you mustn’t let us disrupt your routine if you prefer to eat dinner at eight?’
The brief flicker of his black eyes indicated he’d got her message loud and clear, but he continued walking towards the table, his robes flowing like rich cream over his hard body. ‘Ah, but any disruption is not only necessary, but welcome. I realise I must be open to change if I am to carve out precious time with my son,’ he replied smoothly, high-fiving Cameron as he slid into the seat beside him. ‘And don’t all the pundits say it’s better to eat earlier, rather than later?’
Caitlin opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again. He had an answer for everything! She forced herself to eat some of the delicious food on offer and to listen as Kadir talked Cameron through some of the unfamiliar dishes on the menu. At other times he chatted affably to Morag, who started telling him about her love of historical fiction, which, to his credit, he managed to look enthusiastic about.
Meanwhile Caitlin sat there in frigid silence and all while Kadir’s black eyes mocked her, as if daring her to say something. But she didn’t want to make small talk. She wanted to talk to him about rules of behaviour concerning their son. About setting down guidelines he must agree to conform to while they were here. Basically, to assert her maternal rights and make him realise that he couldn’t just push her into the shadows.
She was relieved by the time the meal ended and Morag began to gather up her young charge to get him ready for bed. She had just ushered him out of the room, when Caitlin turned to Kadir, who was also preparing to leave. ‘Could I have a word with you, please?’ she said, in a low voice.
He frowned. ‘But you’ve had the opportunity to speak to me all evening, Caitlin, and you didn’t say a word.’
‘That was different. I didn’t want to have this discussion in front of Cameron and Morag.’
‘Why not?’
She shifted uncomfortably on her feet and flailed around for a coherent explanation which wouldn’t seem as if she were only pursuing her own selfish interests. ‘Because... Because...’
‘Look.’ Lifting his arm so that silk concertinaed away from his wrist, he shot an impatient glance at his golden wristwatch. ‘I have phone calls I need to make and I’m pretty tied up for the rest of the evening and most of tomorrow. Why don’t we schedule in a time for Wednesday afternoon, when you might have worked out what it is you want to say to me? Come to my office. Shall we say three p.m.?’
She wanted to protest that now he was making her feel like a brainless fool, but instead Caitlin found herself nodding her agreement. Perhaps it made sense to address it that way. She would write down all her concerns in a list, just as she did when she took Cameron to the doctor. She would state her wishes calmly and clearly, so there could be no misunderstanding. And hopefully Kadir would be sensible enough to take note of them all. ‘That sounds fine,’ she said stiffly.
But she felt far from fine as she was led through the labyrinth of marble corridors at the appointed hour. Her nerves had been growing extremely frayed these past two days, and now her mouth was bone-dry with nerves—despite the fact that she’d gulped down a glass of iced water barely ten minutes ago. Was she really going to have the guts to lay down the law to a man like Kadir? Yes and yes and a million times yes. He might be the Sheikh, but he certainly wasn’t her Sheikh.
The monarch’s section of the palace was very different from her own quarters. It felt like a smooth and carefully oiled machine, with its quiet sense of purpose and people with files diligently going about their business. Passing through several outer offices, she was eventually shown into a lavish vaulted room, which was obviously the sole preserve of the King.
The room was empty and quickly she looked around, searching for clues about the man who inhabited it. A large desk dominated one side—a jewelled pot of golden pens contrasting rather comically with a computer and an array of phones. Over by some of the tall windows which overlooked the gardens was an informal area containing a luxurious divan, as well as a couple of ornate chairs. On a gleaming table stood a huge cut-glass bowl of orange roses, and on top of an inlaid bureau stood a small, framed photo of a man. And that was the only personal touch in a largely neutral room. No images of his mother were on show, she noted. Nor yet, any of Cameron.
Caitlin peered at the photo. Darkly handsome, the man wore traditional desert garb and looked about thirty. She wondered if it was an early photo of Kadir’s father, but somehow it seemed too modern.
‘Ah, you’re here.’
The deep resonance of Kadir’s voice interrupted her examination and Caitlin quickly straightened up, adjusting her tunic as she did so and wishing it were as easy to modify her racing heart. ‘I am.’
Kadir waited for her to ask about the photo he’d seen her looking at, but felt a huge wave of relief when she didn’t, because right now he had no desire to delve into the past. Instead he concentrated on the slightly unbelievable fact that she was here, for no woman had ever been permitted entry into what was essentially his sanctum. As a space, it had always been sacrosanct—his and his alone, apart from the occasional necessary visit by his aides. But he had wanted to meet her away from the distraction of their son and his nanny, or the curious glances of the palace servants.
‘So, Caitlin,’ he said coolly. ‘You wanted to sp
eak to me?’
‘Yes.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I think we need to clear a few things up.’