The Sheikh's Royal Announcement

by Sharon Kendrick

  She stood in one of the recesses of the giant complex, shadowed and unobserved as she watched the deft movements of Cameron and Kadir playing together in the turquoise water.

  Father and son.

  From here it was achingly obvious that there could never be any question of Cameron’s parentage.

  Except that there was. At least, according to the dictates of ancient Xulhabian law it had to be proved.

  She felt another twist of frustration as she recalled the conversation she’d had with Kadir, early last week. A conversation which had seemed doubly insulting in view of the fact that they had just had the most amazing sex.

  Apparently, a tiny sample of her son’s blood had been required.

  ‘Blood?’ Caitlin remembered echoing, rolling across the expanse of rumpled sheets and looking at him as if he were some kind of moonlighting vampire.

  ‘It’s no big deal. It is simply to ensure that there can never be any legal challenge.’ His voice had been smooth but explicit. ‘This will cover us in case there is ever any dispute about Cameron’s right to rule. A kind of insurance policy, if you like.’

  Caitlin had been so taken aback that she had found herself nodding her consent, without really thinking it through. Not thinking about all the implications which lay behind that supposedly simple remark. Why had she agreed so readily? For the sake of her son, or because she and Kadir seemed to have reached a plateau of understanding—almost of peace—and she wanted to maintain that situation for as long as possible? Had she maybe been seduced by the hope—no matter how hard she tried to deny it to herself—that the intimate moments they’d been sharing were something worth building on?

  But she had flinched as a tiny needle was inserted into her son’s perfect skin, and it was only afterwards that Kadir’s statement had sunk in properly. He was still taking it as a given that Cameron would one day inherit his crown, when they still hadn’t come to an agreement about that.

  ‘Daddy! Daddy! Look!’

  She watched Cameron dive beneath the dappled surface to swim an entire underwater width of the pool. And while he might have been bathing in Cronarty’s lochs since he’d been little more than a toddler, he certainly hadn’t been able to do that before they’d arrived here. She expelled an unsteady breath. Maybe it was true that plenty of money and resources were ultimately the most effective way of teaching a child something. She continued to watch as Kadir mimicked his son’s movements, except that he managed an entire length of the pool, which made Cameron clap his hands together in delight. Was there anything the desert King wasn’t good at? she found herself thinking.

  Yes.

  He wasn’t very good at making her feel connected to him, for all that she shared his bed each night and revelled in the mind-blowing reality of his lovemaking. Because they weren’t connected. Not really. Despite their semi-shared living situation, his bed and his body were all she had of him, for the confidences shared on their first night together had never been repeated.

  And maybe lovemaking was too optimistic a way of describing what took place every night in her bedroom, into which Kadir crept once darkness had fallen, before taking his leave as the sun was rising.

  She was his secret.

  Sometimes she thought she was his guilty secret.

  ‘I am simply protecting your reputation,’ was his reply to her studiedly casual question about her status. ‘If it were openly acknowledged that you are my lover, it could create intrigue within the palace and that is always unwise. Let’s leave it until we have come to a decision about where we go from here.’

  And where was that? Caitlin had wanted to ask. But something held her back from asking the kind of questions which might provide difficult answers. Because while she couldn’t imagine staying here, she couldn’t imagine going back to Cronarty either. At least, not yet.

  In an attempt to create some semblance of family life, she had joined in with the daily riding sessions which Cameron shared with his father. At first she had simply watched from the sidelines, but one morning Kadir had persuaded her onto a placid mare, even though it had been many years since she’d been in the saddle. His words had been soft and encouraging and she had found her gentle ride exhilarating—almost as exhilarating as the satisfaction in the Sheikh’s eyes and Cameron’s delighted whoops of excitement.

  Sometimes, once the fierce heat had leached from the afternoon, Kadir would demonstrate the skills of Himyar, his prized falcon, while she and Cameron watched it circle and swoop before landing on the Sheikh’s forearm, where it sat regarding the world with its clever, beady eyes. And he kept his promise to teach Cameron chess—a game which the boy was already beginning to understand and to love.

  Yet sometimes Caitlin felt as if she were living in a parallel universe. To the outside world they were nothing but polite parents who were coexisting in relative harmony. Given Kadir’s position of absolute power, nobody ever questioned them about their relationship. Nobody, other than the taciturn nocturnal guard, was aware that each night Kadir would slip into her darkened room and Caitlin would be on fire with unbearable desire as he took her in his arms. For two relative novices to sex, they certainly seemed intent on making up for lost time. And didn’t it give her a buzz to think that Kadir had never done this with anyone else before—that each discovered pleasure was unique to them?

  If only it were so simple to regulate her mood. To keep at bay the unwanted emotions which came flooding out of nowhere to tug at her heart. Sometimes she would find herself overcome with unrealistic yearnings—partly brought about by his disclosure about Rasim’s death. What a gap his friend’s death must have left in his life. And, knowing his history—who could blame him for associating love with loss or betrayal and never wanting to associate himself with it again?

  She had wanted to comfort him, but Kadir didn’t want her comfort. Sexual satisfaction seemed to be his only goal.

  She swallowed.

  Sometimes she thought...

  She bit her lip, reluctant to acknowledge the thought which would never quite leave the edges of her mind. Because what if the once celibate Sheikh was using his newly discovered erotic skills to make her compliant? To subdue her and win her over—to make her fall in with whatever plans he had for Cameron?

  Well, she couldn’t ignore the topic for ever, and the longer it went on, the harder it would be for her to break away from him. He had carelessly mentioned ‘a few weeks’ at the beginning of their stay, and that time was fast approaching. Maybe it was time she exerted a little control of her own.

  Before she got in too deep to tear herself away.

  She moved out from behind the mosaic pillar and wandered down to the edge of the pool and Cameron immediately dived beneath the surface to repeat his underwater width.

  ‘Did you see me, Mummy?’ he spluttered as he emerged from the water and shook tiny droplets of water from his plastered black head. ‘Was that good?’

  ‘I did see you and it was brilliant! You swim like a wee eel!’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘Yes!’ She lifted him from the pool and wrapped a towel around him, her fingers wiggling mischievously beneath his arms. ‘And you’re just as slippery!’

  He giggled as she tickled him and she wondered how she could ever take him away from all this...this ease and privilege. Would he resent her if she did so? Her introspection was halted by Morag bustling in to supervise the dressing of her young charge before taking him away for lunch, leaving Caitlin alone with Kadir.

  She had seen him naked many times, but that had always been within the closeted privacy of the bedroom. Right now it seemed surreal to see the desert King half submerged in the turquoise water, his muscular weight resting on his elbows as he leaned on the side of the pool and studied her. His black hair lay flat against his head and against the olive-skinned wetness of his face, his ebony eyes gleamed like dark jewels. And, oh, did
n’t her heart and her body just clench with hopeless and instinctive longing?

  ‘Such a pity you can’t come in and join me,’ he murmured. ‘Think what fun we could have together in the water.’

  ‘You may be trying to propel Xulhabi into a new age of enlightenment, but I really don’t think the palace is ready for mixed bathing at this stage.’

  ‘I make the laws, Caitlin.’

  ‘But there are servants everywhere,’ she continued, dismissing his arrogant boast with the ghost of a smile. ‘It wouldn’t be appropriate, even if we were the kind of couple who messed around during daylight hours, which we aren’t. And besides, I need to talk to you.’

  Kadir hauled himself out of the pool, noting the way her body instinctively tensed as he moved closer. Her awareness of him was always apparent and he knew if he laid one finger on her, she would start to fall apart in his arms, just as she always did. Yet the expression on her face suggested that sex was the last thing on her mind right now—and the new-found glint of determination he could read in those ice blue eyes made him wary.

  ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’ he questioned, holding out a hand so that a servant immediately appeared with a white towelling gown, which Kadir shrugged on over his wet shoulders.

  She didn’t answer until he had belted up the robe and the servant had scurried away. ‘I’m not sure that now is the ideal time to be having this conversation,’ she prevaricated.

  ‘Tell me,’ he commanded imperiously.

  She met his gaze and drew in a deep breath. ‘You must know we can’t stay here indefinitely like this, Kadir. We still haven’t set out any timeline for our departure and it’s not fair on Morag.’

  ‘Has Morag expressed any desire to leave?’

  ‘Well, no. But that’s not the point. She’s probably just being polite.’

  ‘You don’t think it might have something to do with the friendship she has struck up with my head groom, Ghassan, which is leading her to spend so much time in the stables when she isn’t caring for our son? Either that, or she’s showing a late-onset interest in riding, which I somehow doubt.’

  ‘The fact that Morag is using her time wisely is irrelevant,’ she shot back. ‘I happen to have some commitments of my own back in Scotland.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘What kind of commitments?’

  ‘I have a job, in case you’d forgotten. I’m a photographer and there’s a backlog of photos I’m due to take, which need to be made into greeting cards before Christmas.’

  ‘And the entire western world will grind to a halt if these greetings cards aren’t made available?’

  ‘Don’t you dare patronise me, Kadir Al Marara!’ she returned heatedly. ‘I need to work! I’ve always worked—even though my earnings were never destined to break the bank. You may have been born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but not all of us have had your advantages.’

  There was a pause during which Kadir found himself considering what his life might have been like if he had been given the birthright of most men and the weight of his destiny had not been quite so heavy. If he had been forced to work simply to put bread in his mouth. Hadn’t that been his fantasy as a child? Sometimes a royal procession would travel to Azraq and, from within the sumptuous splendour of his golden carriage, he had observed the ragged street urchins playing in the dust, and had envied them. While most boys had longed to be kings or princes, he had simply yearned to be ordinary. ‘None of us has any control over the circumstances of our birth,’ he observed wryly. ‘We can only hope to influence what happens to us later.’

  ‘Yes, I realise that. But you’re skating round the subject, as well you know, and you can’t keep ignoring it for ever. I want to go home, Kadir.’

  ‘Do you?’ he demanded.

  ‘This isn’t real,’ she breathed. ‘It doesn’t feel real. It’s like I’m living in some kind of limbo.’

  Kadir felt his breath catch as her stark words took root and he realised he had been burying his head in the sand—which was all very well for ostriches, but not kings of the desert. He had been aware for days that this clandestine affair of theirs could not continue indefinitely, and that the problem was only going to get worse if he kept pushing it to the back of his mind.

  Wasn’t it time that he bit the bullet and did what he needed to do, even though he had once sworn that he would never go through with this particular measure again? He had vowed never to let another person get too close to him, but he could see that, with Caitlin, he was going to have his work cut out to maintain that state of affairs.

  ‘I need to talk to you, too. But not now and not here,’ he said, gesturing towards his wet hair. ‘I must first dry off and get changed but also, what I am about to say to you requires a certain degree of formality.’

  ‘Oh?’ Her brow pleated into a frown. ‘Now you’re talking in riddles.’

  ‘Or perhaps simply stirring your interest? It seems to have worked, in any case.’ Briefly, he lifted a hand to summon an aide, who came scurrying towards him. ‘Come to my office in an hour, Caitlin.’ His eyes glittered. ‘I think you know the way well enough by now. I have a business proposition to put to you.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘WILL YOU MARRY me, Caitlin?’

  Despite the generous proportions of the Sheikh’s office, Caitlin felt the walls closing in on her as she stared in disbelief at the robed figure seated behind the desk who was studying her with an expression of amused speculation—as if her open-mouthed reaction was the last thing he had been expecting.

  ‘You look shocked,’ he observed, when still she said nothing.

  Caitlin shook her head as she tried to absorb the enormity of the words Kadir had just uttered, but it was difficult to take it all in. She touched the polished wood of the desk—not touching it for luck but checking it was real—to reassure herself that she wasn’t dreaming. ‘Of course, I’m shocked.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘But surely you must have considered that marriage might be an option at some point?’

  Again, she shook her head, disbelief rippling through her as she stared at the desert King who’d just proposed marriage in the most unromantic of circumstances. There had been no moonlight or champagne and he certainly hadn’t dropped down onto bended knee. His hair still damp from swimming, the Sheikh of Xulhabi had just asked Caitlin Fraser to be his bride, a proposition which once would have filled her with giddy delight. But delivered in the emotionless style of someone who was reading from a shopping list—even though he probably didn’t even know what a shopping list was—Kadir’s proposal had filled her with nothing but distrust.

  But he was the one who had described it as a ‘business proposition’. He wasn’t building it up to be something it wasn’t, was he? So maybe that was the way she ought to regard it, too.

  ‘No,’ she replied slowly. ‘I can honestly say it hadn’t crossed my mind that you might ask me to marry you.’

  He leaned back in a highly embellished chair. ‘And what do you say, now I have?’

  She shrugged as she looked around the room. Golden pens were gleaming in a jewelled container in front of him and all the inlaid furniture was incredibly beautiful, but suddenly everything in the room seemed very foreign to her. Which was exactly how she felt. Foreign and alone. Like someone auditioning for a role which was never going to be right for her. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, at last. ‘What would happen, if I said yes?’

  ‘It’s very straightforward. You would be my Queen and my consort. Traditionally, such a position is a springboard for charitable works and, of course, we have the resources to make that possible. You would have your own staff. You could run your office as you see fit, for I am aware that as an independent woman—’

  ‘Are you being sarcastic?’ she questioned suspiciously.

  He shook his head. ‘Not at all. I am trying to make...allowances, C
aitlin—something which I am not normally required to do. I am aware that you have a career and that perhaps...’ He held out his palms in an expansive gesture she had seen him use before. ‘Perhaps you might wish to continue with that career, although on a much smaller scale, of course.’

  ‘Like how?’

  ‘Well, it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to produce Christmas cards in a country which doesn’t actually celebrate that particular holiday, but there’s no reason why you couldn’t do some work for the Xulhabian tourist board. We’re hoping to expand the travel industry and to encourage visitors in the near future and you could help promote that.’

  ‘Wow.’ She expelled a slow breath of air. ‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’

  ‘I have done my best to come up with a solution to our...dilemma,’ he said, flicking her a shuttered black gaze. ‘So what do you say, Caitlin? Is this something which might appeal to you?’

  Caitlin didn’t answer immediately, mainly because her thoughts were still in such a muddle. Was it typical of all men or just this man—that they could address all the practical concerns of an unexpected proposal of marriage, without even touching on the emotional ones? ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘Your reasons are—’

  ‘Logical?’ he supplied as he plucked one of the golden pens from the container and began to twirl it in between his thumb and forefinger. ‘And lucid? Both qualities which should never be underestimated. Think about it, Caitlin, and then ask yourself, why wouldn’t we marry? We share a son—a fine boy who will one day be King. Wouldn’t parents who are wed make life so much easier for him?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ she admitted.

  ‘He likes being here in the palace,’ he continued. ‘Anyone can see that. And all the time he is learning. About horses and falcons and history. About the history of Xulhabi, which will be invaluable to his future.’ He paused. ‘You must realise that I can offer him the finest tutors—’