‘Poor man,’ had been Morag’s only comment.
Poor man? What about her? Caitlin had wanted to ask. Didn’t her feelings come into it? Didn’t Morag realise how difficult it was going to be to adapt their lives in the light of the Sheikh’s dramatic reappearance? Already she was fretting about how many days of the year Kadir would expect to see his son.
But Morag’s words forced Caitlin to take a step back and try to look at the matter from a different perspective. It had made her realise that Kadir was not all bad, just as she was not all good. And that insight didn’t sit particularly comfortably with her. As soon as she got back to the island, she resolved to contact him. She would tell him that they needed to work out—in as civilised a way as possible—a timetable for future meetings. She needed to get past her own feeling of having been duped by his omission to tell her about his marital status. She had to move on from the way it had made her feel when she’d discovered it. They all did.
Yet still her nagging feeling of disquiet wouldn’t shift. The plane provided every conceivable luxury and they were offered delicious drinks, fruit and pastries—but although Cameron and Morag tucked in with alacrity, Caitlin had no appetite for hers. Instead, she found her gaze wandering around the cabin, noticing the exquisite surroundings of the royal aircraft. It was fitted out with sandalwood furniture adorned with Xulhabian insignia and featuring those two striking sitting cheetahs.
A glossy US magazine was lying on one of the tables with the Sheikh’s stark image dominating the cover and Caitlin could do nothing about the sudden leap of her heart as she picked it up. Enigmatic and darkly regal, Kadir was wearing a traditional white garment, and on his arm sat a falcon—its beady eyes gleaming with faint menace at the camera. Caitlin flicked through the pages and started reading the article, which heaped praise on the ‘notoriously private’ ruler’s attempts to establish a peaceful state in the desert region after so much warfare. It spoke of his fierceness and his bravery in battle. It was hard not to be impressed and she didn’t want to be impressed. In an attempt to distract herself from the glowing accounts of his diplomatic triumphs, she found herself studying a map of Xulhabi, and realising for the first time just how big a country it was. What must it be like to be King of such a place? she wondered. To have grown up knowing that, one day, all that would be yours—along with the weight of responsibility which came with such a role.
And Kadir expected Cameron to share that weight! For a boy of not yet five, surely that was too great a burden for him to have to carry?
They were over an hour into the flight before Caitlin began to sense that something was wrong and it all began with a polite enquiry made to one of the beautiful Xulhabian stewardesses, whose response was mystifying. Did she really not understand a simple question about what time they were expected to land in Edinburgh? Instead, the woman flashed a non-committal smile before scuttling off towards the front of the plane and Caitlin was left feeling perplexed. Moments later she glanced out of the cabin window to discover that now the clouds had cleared, her view was unimpeded, but instead of the russet tones and undulating views of Scotland, she could see...
She remembered a long-ago holiday before her son had been born and her breathless wonder as she had gazed out of the cabin window.
She closed her eyes as if to convince herself that her vision must be playing tricks on her, but when she opened them again, the scene outside was exactly the same.
She told herself not to be so stupid. Of course those snow-capped mountains weren’t the dominating peaks of the Alps. How could they be?
But it was funny how you could convince yourself something wasn’t true even when you knew it was. She allowed another fifteen minutes to pass, but the stunning vista below them showed no sign of magically giving way to the much lower peaks of home.
Caitlin felt dizzy.
Sick.
She wanted to blurt out her fears to someone—anyone—but Morag was busily doing some colouring with Cameron and she didn’t want to alarm him. Besides, what if her fears were unwarranted? What if...?
But you wouldn’t need to be an aviation expert to realise that they were way off course and Caitlin rose unsteadily to her feet. Walking to the front of the plane, she found the stewardess in a cabin almost as large as the one in which she’d left Cameron and Morag. Her head had been so full that she hadn’t really noticed it while passing through at the beginning of the journey, but now she became aware that this area of the plane was almost palatial. It boasted rich velvet sofas and lacquered lamps. And a very old writing desk on which sat a beautiful emerald and silver paper knife, which was fashioned to look like a dagger.
‘Could you please tell me what’s going on?’ Caitlin said, her crisp question belying the growing dread at the base of her stomach.
The stewardess’s stunning eyes became shuttered. ‘Going on?’ she echoed.
Caitlin bristled because it was adding insult to injury to have the woman treat her as if she were some kind of idiot. ‘I know we’re flying off course,’ she accused, keeping her voice deliberately low. ‘And I’d like an explanation of just what is happening!’
‘I’m afraid I cannot—’
‘It’s okay, Rania. You can leave us now.’
The velvety voice from behind them could have come from only one source and Caitlin whirled round—shock and fury washing over her, along with something else. Something powerful and all-consuming. Something which felt uncomfortably like desire as her disbelieving gaze took in the dominating figure who was standing in the doorway.
Kadir Al Marara, all-powerful and muscular, his hawklike features enigmatic.
Only his black eyes moved—for they were watchful and glittering as they raked over her. Suddenly Caitlin was reminded of the falcon she’d seen on the magazine cover—dark and still and potentially deadly—and a whisper of foreboding shivered over her skin as she returned his hooded gaze.
She was vaguely aware of Rania exiting the salon as fast as her high-heeled shoes would allow, leaving her alone with him, and her heart thumped painfully against her ribcage as she tried to make some sense out of what she was seeing.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here?’
He shrugged. ‘Up until a few moments ago, I was flying the plane.’
His deliberate misunderstanding of her question tipped the temper she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding in check and the words suddenly exploded from Caitlin’s lips. ‘I’m not interested in your piloting skills!’ she hissed, clenching her fists by her sides as she experienced an overwhelming desire to pummel them hard against his powerful chest. ‘I’d like to know why we haven’t landed in Scotland.’
‘Because we aren’t flying to Scotland.’
‘Yes, we are! You know we are! That’s what we agreed!’ she babbled stupidly and then her voice rose. ‘Where are you taking us?’
‘You know exactly where I’m taking you, Caitlin,’ he informed her silkily. ‘To Xulhabi.’
‘You can’t,’ she said, her voice dropping to a disbelieving whisper. ‘You can’t do that. That’s...that’s kidnap!’
Kadir stared at her, steeling himself against the suddenly vulnerable tremble of her lips and the widening of her sky-washed eyes. ‘That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose,’ he drawled. ‘I would prefer to think of it as purposefully reuniting with my family.’
‘How dare you?’
‘I dare because I have no choice,’ he told her simply. ‘I owe it, not only to my people, but also to my son—to allow him to set foot on the soil of his forebears. And he cannot do that if his mother is proving unreasonably resistant, and he is stuck on some remote island far away, unable to access the skills he will require when he rules Xulhabi.’
‘Will you stop saying that?’ she demanded. ‘You make it sound as if it’s a done deal, when Cameron might not want to be the
heir to your wretched country! He might want to be a...a farmer—or a vet!’
‘I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Caitlin,’ he replied, with a steely air of finality. ‘It cannot happen. His destiny is ordained.’
She gasped as the import of his words must have dawned on her—because suddenly she was launching herself at him like a wildcat, all that vulnerability vanished as she began to pummel her fists urgently against his chest.
‘Caitlin—that isn’t going to do you any good,’ he protested, though without the kind of conviction he might have expected. Because wasn’t there a part of him which was actively enjoying her anger and her outrage? Wasn’t the heavy throb of his erection an inevitable response to having her this close to him again and breathing in her particular scent, which made him think of soap and honey and wild Scottish moors? A sudden wild rush of yearning pulsed through him and he longed to tangle his fingers in the bright banner of her hair, but he forced himself to ignore it and confront the problem in hand. ‘Stop it.’
‘No! I won’t stop it!’ she declared, with another blow to his chest, which he barely felt, even though she was obviously putting all her weight behind it. ‘Not until you direct the pilot—or do it yourself—to turn this wretched plane right round and take us to Edinburgh!’
‘Sorry,’ he said, with an adamant shake of his head. ‘I can’t do that.’
Did his words suddenly take root or did she just realise that he meant them? Was that why she stopped her rhythmic pummelling so he thought she might have ceased her attack? But, no, his guess was way off mark—or maybe he had underestimated her. For she was swooping towards the writing desk with all the force of a heat-seeking missile. And, moments later, she was back, brandishing the jewelled paper knife above him.
‘Take me back home immediately, or I’ll scar that beautiful face of yours!’ she declared.
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted that so badly. And, judging by the hungry look which suddenly flashed from her eyes, so did she. As he caught hold of the wrist of the hand which held the jewelled dagger he could feel her tremble with something which didn’t feel remotely like fear—and the instinctive parting of her lips was as powerful an invitation to kiss her as he’d ever seen. Though what did he know of a woman’s true desires?
Kadir couldn’t deny that the temptation was as powerful as any he had ever experienced, but he resisted it as he had done so many times before. Because this wasn’t about sex. It was about power. His power—and hers, too. He wondered if she understood that she was in the rare position of having something he wanted. Something he hadn’t been expecting to find—and which felt like the most precious gift he’d ever been presented with.
His son.
Within the veins of his child ran the true blue blood of a future king and nothing could change that unassailable fact—not Caitlin’s wishes, nor his own. After so many years of warfare and disruption, the royal line of Xulhabi was more important than any one person’s personal desire or agenda. It was his duty to provide an heir for his people and now it was within his ability to do so. Only Caitlin Fraser stood in his way.
Kadir knew he couldn’t afford to let Cameron out of his sight for a moment because he didn’t trust her. And why should he when she had seemed so eager to block all his attempts to get to know his son better? When she had spoken so primly and parsimoniously about getting ‘some dates in the diary’. As if she were some middle-aged matron scheduling in a dinner party! For all he knew, she might take it upon herself to ‘disappear’—and, although he had the resources to find her, to play a cat-and-mouse game while he hunted her down would be disruptive and unpleasant for everyone concerned. Especially Cameron.
‘Drop the knife, Caitlin,’ he said silkily.
‘I won’t!’ She wriggled within his grasp. ‘Not until you agree to turn this plane round and fly us back home.’
‘Drop the knife,’ he repeated, trying to ignore the insistent throb of his erection and the even more insistent desire to crush his lips down over the soft quiver of her own and lose himself in her kiss. ‘Drop it right now, or I shall be forced to have one of the palace doctors meet us when we land and declare you mentally unsound to care for our son.’
His words must have hit home for her grip loosened and the sound of the knife bouncing off the polished wooden floor sounded deafening as she stared up at him, her mulish expression now tinged with wariness. ‘You wouldn’t dare?’
‘Oh, I would. I would stop at nothing to get my way on this. Believe me when I tell you that—even if that is the last thing I want to do. Because you are testing my patience just a little too far.’
‘You’re a fine one to talk about testing patience!’ she flashed back. ‘Think about it! It’s not just me and Cameron you’re strong-arming back to your country—there’s Morag, too, over whom you have no power at all! What has she done to deserve all this? Don’t you think that the first opportunity she gets, she’ll be on the phone to the Foreign Office telling them what you’ve done and demanding they get us back home as soon as possible? And they’ll come after you—you can bet your sweet life they will! The British government will lock you up and throw away the key. Hopefully for ever! Because kidnap is kidnap—no matter how high-born and mighty you are!’
‘Your imagination is remarkably vivid but essentially flawed—since I suspect you might find that Morag’s sympathies are very much in tune with my dilemma. She has certainly been very accommodating thus far,’ he mused. ‘Which begs the question: Can’t you do the same—at least for the time being? Don’t alarm our son by an unnecessary display of hysteria, Caitlin. Accept the situation for what it is and try to make the best of it.’
‘How can I possibly do that?’ she demanded. ‘When I don’t know even what “the situation” is!’
‘But you will. In time,’ he said smoothly. ‘There are many issues we need to address about the future and they will be discussed in more detail when we arrive at my royal palace.’
She stared at him. ‘So I don’t really have a choice, do I?’
He shook his head. ‘No, Caitlin. I’m afraid you don’t.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘YOU ARE PALE, CAITLIN.’
‘Of course I’m pale! I’ve just had a severe life shock! I wasn’t expecting to be hijacked while I was in the air and then flown to some wretched hellhole of a place against my will!’
‘I would not describe the royal palace of Xulhabi as a hellhole and we are not going to conduct this conversation in an inflammatory manner, if that’s what you’re hoping.’
Kadir’s voice was as soft as the warm air which scented the courtyard—the rustle of his robes the only sound Caitlin could hear above the distant tinkling of a fountain. Outside the sky was the most beautiful she’d ever seen, a deep indigo canopy punctured by stars so bright, it almost dazzled the eye to gaze upon them. But gaze on them she did, because anything was better than having to look Kadir in the eye and try to pretend that he wasn’t making her pulse-rate soar with anger, outrage and that annoying ever-present throb of desire. She needed to concentrate on what he had actually done, which was an affront, by anyone’s standards. And didn’t his high-handedness and outrageous flexing of power cancel out a little of the understanding she’d been starting to feel towards him?
‘What I’m hoping,’ she spat out, ‘is that you see sense. That you’ll understand you can’t just go around kidnapping people like some despot. If you let the three of us go home, before any irretrievable damage is done, then we’ll just draw a line in the sand and move on.’
‘I think you need to compose yourself,’ he said, with infuriating calm. ‘Did you like the clothes which I arranged to have sent to your suite?’
Caitlin wished he wouldn’t try to change the subject, especially one which was difficult to answer without sounding grateful. Yet how could she fail to like the delicate tunics she’d found neatly lined u
p in one of the wardrobes? In rainbow colours, the fabrics were so fine that they felt like a cloud to the touch. As a gesture of defiance she had wanted to ignore the whole lot of them and just dress normally—but, despite the palace’s super-efficient air-conditioning, she couldn’t possibly wear her trademark sweater and sensible tweed skirt in this hot climate. So she had reluctantly slipped on one of the tunics while silently despairing at the way it managed to make her feel so ethereal and so...feminine. And much more aware of her own body than was usual, which, given the company she was in, could be regarded as distinctly dangerous. ‘They’re okay, I suppose,’ she said ungraciously. ‘Or at least they’ll do for the time being.’
But Kadir didn’t react to her clumsy rejection of his offerings, he just slanted her another devastatingly cool smile. ‘Look, why don’t we take a walk around the palace gardens before dinner?’ he suggested. ‘The grounds are very beautiful when they’re floodlit and a little fresh air might make you feel better.’
‘I’ll tell you what would make me feel better—getting someone to drive me back to the airfield so that I can jump on a plane and not have to keep looking at your smug face!’
‘Oh, Caitlin, Caitlin,’ he murmured. ‘Repetition is never an attractive quality. You really are going to have to find something different to talk about. No harm is going to befall you, Morag, or our child, of that I give you my word. And you wouldn’t really want to fly back tonight, would you? Not when Cameron is tucked up so peacefully in bed.’
Caitlin’s pulse accelerated. She wished he wouldn’t do that either. Talk to her in that cool and measured way, as if she were an out-of-control hysteric and he were Mr Reasonable—when actually he was the one who was guilty of kidnap. An accusation she had flung at him on more than one occasion but which seemed to keep washing over him. In fact, he hadn’t actually responded to anything she’d said to him, so far. It was like trying to demolish a brick wall by hitting it with a feather.
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