The Sheikh's Royal Announcement

by Sharon Kendrick

  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.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Please. Elaborate.’

  ‘Well, obviously I can’t stop you from just dropping in at mealtimes—’

  ‘That’s very generous of you,’ he commented sardonically.

  ‘But in future, I’d prefer if you didn’t just take Cameron riding like you did on our first morning here, without having run it by me first.’

  ‘Your objection being what exactly?’

  ‘You should have woken me.’

  ‘Should I? You’d had a long and emotional journey the previous day and had shown no sign of stirring. But Cameron wanted to make sure you were okay before we went off together, and so he looked in on you and told me you were still sleeping. On balance, I decided it was best not to disturb you.’

  ‘Or maybe you just wanted to stake your claim on Cameron? To get him on his own so you could start influencing him.’

  ‘Influencing him to do what exactly, Caitlin?’

  She shrugged, biting her lip as if trying to hold back an unwanted tremble. ‘Who knows? To turn him against me, perhaps. To push me out of the picture.’

  He frowned. ‘You really think I would do something like that?’

  ‘How should I know what you’d do, Kadir? You put us on a plane and flew us halfway across the world—I wouldn’t put anything past you! It was his first morning in a strange place. And in a palace, no less. He’s never been anywhere like this before and it could have been very confusing for him.’

  ‘But he seemed perfectly fine with it. And Morag agreed with my suggestion.’

  ‘Of course she did. She would pretty much agree with anything you said because you’ve got her wrapped around your little finger!’

  ‘The same certainly cannot be said of you,’ he observed wryly. ‘So tell me, Caitlin—what’s really troubling you?’

  She gave a frustrated wiggle of her hands. ‘Surely you must realise that if you start promising him things—it’s only going to create problems. Don’t you think this kind of treatment is unbearably seductive for a small boy? Promises of ponies and palace pools. So that when he goes back to his other life—his normal life, on a tiny island in the middle of the Minch—it will be unbearably difficult for him to settle back in.’

  Kadir met the fierce accusation of her gaze and an unexpected feeling of sadness washed over him as he listened to her heated accusations. Couldn’t she see that everything was going to be different from now on? Was she really that naïve? ‘But this is your new normal, Caitlin,’ he said gently. ‘Better get used to it.’

  Some of the indignation left her eyes and was replaced by a flicker of apprehension. ‘What are you talking about?’

  He picked his words carefully. ‘People already know you are here—that much was inevitable. My aides tell me that much comment has been made of Cameron’s resemblance to me and that was inevitable, too. His identity cannot be kept a secret much longer. Sooner or later, the world is going to find out that he is my son and heir.’

  ‘And doesn’t he get any say in the matter?’ she demanded. ‘Don’t I?’

  He shook his head. ‘This is not a question of who says what. He is my son. His destiny is written in the stars. Do you really think Cameron can just go back to his previous life and pretend nothing has changed? That he can carry on living on Cronarty?’

  ‘But the island is as safe as houses,’ she defended. ‘The people there are very loyal. They won’t make any kind of fuss, if I ask them not to.’

  ‘Oh, Caitlin.’ He shook his head. ‘Now you really are being naïve. We aren’t talking about an ordinary child. We are talking about the welfare of a future king and there are security issues at stake here. Big ones. My country is now at peace, but for many years we have been fighting a perilous war—and wars always create enemies. Don’t you think Cameron will be vulnerable to threats from outside sources once his identity is known? Isn’t that something you ought to consider before you take him back to a place where he will be largely defenceless against malevolent forces?’

  He could see her lips folding in on themselves, as if she was trying very hard not to cry and that was not his intention. He didn’t want to make her cry—and not just because he wasn’t sure he was equipped to cope with a woman’s tears. ‘Caitlin—’ He held out a hand towards her but she shook it away.

  ‘I never meant for this to happen—to give birth to a future king!’ she burst out. ‘But you didn’t give me the choice, did you, Kadir? You didn’t tell me about all this royal stuff, because if you had, I could have turned around and run in the opposite direction!’

  He stared at her, and as he saw the pain in her eyes something dark and unknown nagged away at... He furrowed his brow. Not his conscience, no. Something else. Something buried away deep inside him, but an instinctive measure of self-protectiveness made him quickly push the thought away. ‘Yes, I should have told you,’ he agreed huskily. ‘But I couldn’t. It wasn’t even a deliberate decision—it just happened that way. And even if I had told you, do you really think you would have walked, Caitlin? Don’t you think I tried myself and couldn’t manage it?’

  She shook her head so that fiery strands of hair flew around her narrow shoulders. ‘That’s...irrelevant.’

  ‘No, it’s not. Not then and certainly not now. It’s still there, this...thing between us, and it won’t seem to go away.’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t you think it’s time we stopped fighting it, Caitlin?’

  She stared at him. ‘You’re talking about...desire?’

  ‘Of course I am. What else could it be?’ he husked. ‘You must know how much I want you. And you want me, too. I can see it in your eyes and in your body. Why else do you shiver whenever I come near? And don’t you think I shiver, too? Well, don’t you?’

  Caitlin swallowed as his black eyes glittered, his words firing up everything she already felt for him and igniting the smoulder of feelings she’d been trying to keep at bay. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, she reminded herself bitterly. Nobody could accuse Kadir of building her up with false hopes. He wasn’t professing love, or emotion. He was spelling out exactly what he felt for her, which was lust—no more and no less. It shouldn’t have been enough and yet somehow...

  She closed her eyes. Would it be so wrong to be intimate with the man who had fathered her child? Wasn’t she allowed to enjoy her body, like other people? Last time around she’d been vulnerable. She’d started to believe she was falling in love with him but this time that wasn’t going to happen. Why would it when Kadir had expressly told her that love was a trap?

  But sex. Sex she could do.

  ‘So what do you propose we do about it?’ she asked him, her voice coming out all breathy.

  He stilled, as if her easy assent had taken him by surprise, but quickly he reasserted his mastery. ‘I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do. First we’re going to get rid of the view.’ He walked across to the wall and the touch of a button made electric blinds float silently down over every window, dimming the light so that it looked like a gilded and exotic boudoir. ‘And next I’m going to kiss you.’

  He was walking towards her, his black eyes glittering, his steps slow and deliberate. He was giving her time to change her mind, Caitlin realised. But somehow, making her wait was only increasing the hunger she felt for him, so that by the time he stood in front of her and pulled her into his arms, she was almost on fire with need.

  And suddenly he was kissing her and she was kissing him back. Kissing him hard—as if trying to imprint her mouth indelibly on his. And he was saying things against her lips—soft, urgent words in a language she didn’t recognise.

  ‘Kadir,’ she whispered as his fingers curled possessively over her silk-covered breast and the nipple immediately sprang to life.

  ‘I want you,’ he said
deliberately. And he picked her up and carried her across the gilded room, towards the wide divan and the powerful scent of orange roses.

  CHAPTER NINE

  WITH A SWIFT economy of movement, Kadir peeled off Caitlin’s tunic, revealing the modest bra and pants she’d bought in a discount store in Edinburgh. As his hungry gaze raked over her, she wondered if he was used to his women wearing bewitching scraps of silk and lace and how she could possibly measure up against them. But the hot flash of his eyes and the growl which erupted from his lips seemed to imply he didn’t feel in the least bit short-changed by her appearance.

  He unclipped her bra and bent to slide her panties all the way down her thighs, effortlessly lifting her up so that they fluttered from her ankles, before setting her down again. He kissed her hair as he reached down to touch her breast, a slow, circling thumb making the nipple grow hard again.

  ‘I have wanted to see you naked like this for so long,’ he husked.

  Her cheeks grew hot, but Caitlin was determined to match his matter-of-factness. Because emotional danger beckoned if she read too much into what was simply a biological act. ‘And you,’ she whispered. ‘I have longed to see you naked, too.’

  ‘Then what are you waiting for, Caitlin? Why don’t you take off my clothes?’

  His uneven words were coated with need and Caitlin trembled beneath their rush of elemental power. She had never undressed a man before and she’d certainly never undressed a powerful king of the desert. But there had to be a first time for everything, surely? Her hands were unsteady as they moved towards the hem of his robe, mainly because she could feel the heat of his body beneath the silk and knew what delights awaited her. Pulling the garment over his head, her fingers tightened around its voluminous folds, her breath catching in her throat as she realised that, unlike her, he was completely naked beneath.

  And it was impossible not to stare at him. To feast her eyes on the broad shoulders and honed chest and gleaming olive skin. The narrow hips and muscular thighs and long, hard legs. But most of all, she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from the thick pole of his erection which sprang from between his thighs, pale against the dark forest of hair.