His observation—actually it was more of a judgement—irritated her, even if it happened to be true. But Caitlin told herself it was better to be irritated than passive. He hadn’t objected to her no-nonsense clothes last time around, had he? He’d been more concerned with removing them than providing some kind of fashion critique. But she wasn’t going to start going down that road. It was going to be difficult enough negotiating the emotional minefield which lay ahead, without remembering how it had felt to lie in Kadir’s arms while he rained sensual kisses all over her mouth.
‘I believed I was coming here today for an interview about future photographic work,’ she returned briskly. ‘And as far as I was aware, holding a camera in often inclement weather requires practical rather than fancy clothing.’ She hesitated. ‘As for your proposed trip to London, I’d like to bring Morag along, if she can be persuaded to make the journey.’
He frowned. ‘Who’s Morag?’
‘She’s an ex-nurse who has known me since I was a child. She’s retired now and helps look after Cameron when I’m working.’
‘And how often does that happen?’ he demanded. ‘How often do you have to leave our son in the hands of this woman?’
It was a totally unfair accusation and the possessive note in his voice was more than a little worrying, but Caitlin told herself he was angry and people said all kinds of things when they were angry. Drawing in a deep breath, she met his hostile gaze with one of manufactured calm. ‘I never leave him unless it’s absolutely essential and I choose my work carefully. I don’t take on jobs just for the sake of it, because I’m trying to grow my reputation. I do a lot of photographic work for an agency which is, I suppose, how you were successfully able to lure me to this hotel with the promise of a job. Which I’m guessing doesn’t really exist.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘There is no job, is there, Kadir?’
The brief shake of his head gave her his answer, but as their gazes locked she saw the smoky flash of fire in the depths of his eyes, which his thick lashes couldn’t quite conceal. Was she imagining the faint sigh which escaped his lips, which made her focus on them unwillingly, only to recall how it had felt to be kissed by him? And then a whole batch of memories came rushing back and there seemed to be nothing she could do to keep them at bay.
She wondered if he ever thought about the circumstances in which they’d met, when she’d been trying to capture the image of a golden eagle and he’d told her afterwards that he’d never been so mesmerised by a woman’s neck. Or her bottom. Apparently, he’d been thinking of purchasing the vast Scottish estate she was in the process of photographing, though the sale had never happened. She’d often wondered if he might have gone ahead and bought it if he hadn’t met her, or whether his infidelity had nudged his conscience and made him change his mind. Surely she was the last person he would ever want to bump into. She gave a bitter smile. Unless she was flattering herself by thinking she was his only extra-marital dalliance...
He gave a sudden click of his fingers, and that impatient gesture told her much more than words ever could. For the first time Caitlin caught a glimpse of the imperious sense of entitlement which marked him out from ordinary mortals and, again, she wondered how she could have ever believed he was a commoner.
‘Of course there is no job,’ he said coolly. ‘Have Cameron ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning. One of my aides will arrive on the island to escort you both to Edinburgh.’ There was a pause. ‘And what will you tell him, Caitlin? How are you going to explain me to my son?’
‘I haven’t deci
ded yet. I need to give it some thought.’
‘Does he know who his father is?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘He’s never asked.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes! I swear to you.’
She heard a low hiss of air being expelled from his lungs.
‘How can I believe you?’ he demanded. ‘Despite the hand you lay so convincingly over your heart!’
‘Believe me or don’t,’ she bit back. ‘But it’s the truth!’
He studied her from between narrowed eyes. ‘Come equipped for a stay of several nights.’
‘Is that really necessary?’
His laugh was soft and low and taunting. ‘Oh, Caitlin, can you really be that short-sighted? Do you think I’m prepared to be briefly slotted in to your schedule, like an unwanted dental appointment? That a few hours would be adequate for me to meet the child whose existence I have only just discovered?’
She hadn’t given it any thought at all—it had all happened so quickly that Caitlin felt as if she’d jumped onto a merry-go-round. Only now she was even more scared than before. Scared of Kadir’s power and his potential to completely wreck her life, but equally scared of the way he could make her feel. Because why, after all this time, did she find herself reacting to him in a way which shouldn’t be happening? Her body felt as if it were coming alive under that searing gaze, in a way it hadn’t done since the last time he’d looked at her. It was as if her senses had lain dormant all this time—like the bulbs which lay beneath the unforgiving earth of winter before being brought to life by the first warm flush of spring.
He was staring at her with an arrogant air of propriety, yet righteous indignation was the last thing on her mind. She could feel the prickle of heat to her breasts and the low coil of hunger which was tightening deeply at her core. Flickers of awareness were twanging low in her belly and her throat felt desert-dry. She’d always had the artist’s way of looking at the world—of seeing her surroundings in terms of light and shade and variants of colour. But now it felt as if she’d been wearing blinkers which had just been removed and, suddenly, her vision had become crystal-clear. And she found herself looking at Kadir Al Marara as if she had never really seen him before.
She noticed the faint shadow of new beard at his jaw and found herself wondering how often he shaved. She didn’t know. Just as she didn’t know what he liked to eat for breakfast, or how he spent his days. She didn’t know anything about his mother or his father and very little about his dead wife. His wife, she reminded herself bitterly. The woman he was married to when he slid your panties down before giving a low laugh of exultant pleasure as he discovered your molten heat. The memory filled her with shame—shame that she had done it and shame that it still had the power to turn her on.
This man is nothing but a stranger to me, she realised. I may have borne his child, but I don’t know him. Just as he didn’t know her. To him she was just a woman he’d bedded one night in a tiny Scottish town. A woman who had pressed her body close to his and murmured against his mouth, ‘Please. Oh, please...’
Shuddering with self-recrimination, she found herself wishing she could close her eyes and, when she opened them again, discover that this whole meeting had been nothing but a bad dream.
But that wouldn’t be fair on Cameron, would it?
She couldn’t keep hiding the truth about his father’s past, no matter how much it suited her. She had been without a father during her own childhood and had been bitterly aware of the great gaping hole that had left in her life. Did she really wish the same for her child?
She wondered if her misgivings were showing on her face and if it was that which prompted the speculative look which Kadir iced at her.