She wasn’t going mad.
She wasn’t imagining things which weren’t really happening. She was being excluded! She had served her purpose by marrying the powerful Sheikh and, in so doing, had relinquished all her maternal authority, without her knowledge. How sneaky and cruel was that? Was that why he was pushing her further away from him—so that she could quietly be siphoned out of royal life? Perhaps that was the reason he’d been so keen to make their family bigger—also without her permission—so she could become some little breeding machine in the corner of the palace, quietly giving birth to heirs and spares.
And all the time she had been falling in love with him. Deeper and deeper and deeper. Did that make her as foolish as her poor mother had been? A deluded woman who had clung to the futile hope her married lover would one day leave his wife—and who had wasted so much time in pursuit of her own desires she had made her and Caitlin’s lives a misery.
But she had been guilty of something similar. She had craved love from a man who had told her right from the beginning that he was unable to provide it. She had allowed her own romantic fantasies to blind her to a truth she had refused to recognise, which was that she was simply a means to an end. She’d been so grateful to him for providing her with security and for legitimising their son that she hadn’t stopped to realise that she was never intended to be anywhere except on the sidelines.
As the sun rose higher in the sky behind her, she sat on the window seat and waited, her heart pounding a fast and steady beat as a feeling of doom threatened to envelop her.
She shook her head when a servant entered and enquired whether she required refreshments and she was equally negative when Makim appeared at the door to ask whether she was okay.
‘I’m waiting for...’ she nearly said my husband, until a small voice in her head suggested she might want to start recalibrating her mindset ‘...the Sheikh,’ she finished, unable to keep a note of venom from her voice as she looked up defiantly at Kadir’s aide.
‘But have you not consulted with his diary, My Queen?’ He seemed perplexed. ‘His Serene Majesty has meetings until early this afternoon.’
‘I don’t mind. I’ll wait.’
Had Kadir been alerted to this display of his wife’s stubborn tenure? Was that why he appeared within minutes with an expression of irritation he didn’t bother to hide.
‘I’m assuming this is important?’ he questioned.
For a moment Caitlin felt almost awestruck by his arrogance until she remembered that he was a master of battle—and didn’t people say the best form of defence was attack? Well, maybe she would take their advice.
She got up from the seat and walked over to his desk, plucking up the lawyer’s letter which was lying there.
‘I’ve just read this!’
‘Oh?’ His features remained implacable. ‘Have you been spying on me, Caitlin?’
‘Don’t you dare try to turn this round!’ She sucked in a furious breath, waving the letter in front of him. ‘Instead, why don’t you try explaining this?’
It occurred to Kadir that never had anyone addressed him quite so insolently just as it occurred to him that maybe, in some mysterious way, he was relieved this had happened. At least now matters could be brought to a head and there could be no misunderstanding. ‘What you read is nothing but the truth, Caitlin. There is really no need to distress yourself,’ he said. ‘You must have known deep down that such a clause would exist. Are there not laws in place in most countries, to prevent one parent fleeing with a child without permission? And when that child is a prince, it becomes even more important.’
‘You think that’s what I might do?’
Kadir met her eyes and suddenly the atmosphere between them changed. He felt the first fraught dark charge of something he didn’t recognise and realised too late that, by bringing matters to a head, he was going to have to face the very truth he had been seeking to avoid. ‘I don’t know what you might do, Caitlin,’ he answered quietly. ‘I’ve always found women extremely unpredictable.’
She nodded as she stared into his eyes and then she began to speak.
‘I thought I could be happy here,’ she said slowly. ‘Because there’s pretty much everything here a person could ever want. I liked the way Cameron settled in here and I liked the way you interacted with him. I still do. And I like Xulhabi. The desert and the palace and the rose gardens. The capital city is buzzy and vibrant—what little I’ve seen of it—and I was looking forward to exploring more of the country as your Queen and taking on some charities of my own.’
‘So there’s no problem?’ he said, coolly clipping out the words as if he were in a meeting with one of his diplomats.
She gave him a look—a look of such pain that it made him want to turn away. But he couldn’t. He had to face this head-on because he owed it to her. And he owed it to Cameron, too.
‘I think you’ll find there is,’ she said quietly. ‘And you know exactly what it is.’
He knew what she meant. Of course he did. But surely it was her place to admit it, rather than his to accuse. Yet the very terms he was using disturbed him. Admit. Accuse. Weren’t those words frequently used in a court of law? Not those usually associated with the subject they were talking about, even though neither of them had had the guts to mention it. Until now.
‘You’re in love with me?’ he suggested.
Caitlin met the gleam of his black eyes without flinching, wishing she could deny his words, but she couldn’t. And what would be the point of adding a layer of lies to this already heartbreaking situation?
‘Yes, I’m in love with you,’ she burst out. ‘I know it’s irrational and a complete waste of time, but there’s nothing I can seem to do about it. I tried to forget you right from the start, but I couldn’t. And when you found us, I tried to hate you for kidnapping us and bringing us here, but the terrible truth is that I actually liked it. In some warped kind of way I felt protected for the first time in my life. And I liked being with you again—’
‘Caitlin—’
‘No,’ she interrupted fiercely. ‘Let me finish this—because you were the one who asked the question and you are the one who needs to hear my answer. Maybe I’m one of those sad women who are programmed to care only for men who are cruel, just like my mother. Except that sometimes—when you forget to erect all those barriers around you—you aren’t cruel at all. You’re funny and clever and perceptive—which goes some way towards cancelling out your arrogance and high-handedness. I know. I should have had the courage to say all this to you before, but I didn’t.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Because when you asked me to marry you, I felt hope—I’m not going to deny that. I thought that, despite everything you’d said, you might be open to change. And then I thought we’d grown super-close over our honeymoon and we might continue to do so. I thought you might be willing to give us a chance—to see if that bond between us could grow.’
‘Despite the fact I expressly told you that would never happen?’ he demanded.
‘Yes, despite all that,’ she agreed. ‘Delusional of me, I know—but hope can be an annoying thing and you can’t always quash it, no matter how much you might try. But you began to do the exact opposite of getting closer, didn’t you, Kadir? You began to push me away and that made me re-examine my own intentions. I’d been so sure that I could be contented with the very minimum of what most people ask in a marriage. But I’ve discovered I can’t do that,’ she finished huskily. ‘I can’t pretend things I don’t feel, and I don’t want my son to grow up in an atmosphere where he’s afraid to show love, brought up by parents who are cold and distant with each other. If we do that, aren’t we only perpetrating the kind of dysfunctional behaviour which made your own childhood so unhappy?’
‘So what are you telling me, Caitlin?’ he questioned harshly. ‘What is your conclusion to this astonishing list of insights?’
; Perhaps if he’d been a little kinder towards her, then Caitlin might have backtracked a little. Might have suggested that maybe they should give it a month or two and see how things progressed. But the condemnation which glittered from his black eyes told her more than she could bear. And if he didn’t love her now, in this early stage of their marriage, wasn’t it inevitable that his feelings for her would turn at best to indifference and at worst to hate?
‘I want to take Cameron back to Scotland with me,’ she said, resolutely ignoring his hissed intake of breath. ‘I know it won’t be easy and I’m happy to take any recommendations you may have regarding security aspects—’
‘Oh, are you?’
‘He can come out here on a regular basis and, whenever you come to the UK, you can see him,’ she continued. ‘Because I will never deny you access.’
He met her eyes. ‘But you are now aware that you cannot remove our son from the country without my permission,’ he said quietly.
‘Yes, I’m aware of that. But I’m hoping that you will be big enough to disregard that clause. You can have Cameron as often as is possible, but I’m asking you to let me take him back to Scotland. Please. Don’t trap me here as if I were a butterfly in a jam jar.’
For a moment there was silence. A silence so fragile yet so hefty that it seemed to bear down on Kadir like the crushing of a thousand trees on his shoulders. He saw her lips trembling, but for once they were not trembling with desire, but with apprehension. He knew he could insist that she stay and that the law was on his side. Given time, he might even be able to kiss her into something approaching submission—but that would be despicable. Because he had been honest with her, yes, but that honesty had destroyed something between them, and that something was trust. She was looking at him now with such wariness and disappointment in her eyes that he felt as if he had taken something very beautiful within the palm of his hand and crushed it. The pain inside him built and built. Any minute now and it would fell him completely.
‘Take him,’ he said heavily. ‘Take Cameron back to Cronarty, but do it as quickly as possible. And now go, Caitlin. Leave me—not in peace, no—but at least with the time to compose myself before my next meeting.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE PAIN WAS still intense. Like an iron fist clamped around a raw and bloody heart, and Kadir had never known pain like it. Not during the many battles he had fought for his country, when his lifeblood had turned the sand rusty, or the witnessing of his friend’s death. Not even during his mother’s early rejection, or the subsequent discovery of his first wife’s hopeless addiction. Because this pain was different. This was something else.
Standing in the palace courtyard, he stared up at the cloudless sky and watched the blue and green royal jet as it headed westward—towards Scotland and a tiny rain-lashed island. He bit down hard on his lip in an attempt to distract himself from the confusion of his thoughts and the disorientating feeling that his world was spinning out of control. He told himself that of course he would feel something when, just an hour earlier, he had said goodbye to his wife and son. But stupidly—and infuriatingly—he found himself having to blink back tears. Tears! He who had never cried in his life. Not even over Rasim. But then he’d never had to endure a farewell quite like this before.
Cameron had clung to him as if he never wanted to let him go, but children were capricious beings and one murmured mention from Morag about the pet hamster which awaited him back in Scotland had been enough to ensure an instant gap-toothed smile.
‘I will come and meet Hamish very soon,’ Kadir had said gravely.
‘When, Papa?’
Kadir’s eyes had met Caitlin’s over their son’s head and he had found himself wondering when those wide blue orbs had become such cold, pale ice. He had wanted to reach for her then and to hold her against the painful acceleration of his heart, but she had turned away, her expression tight and unmoving.
‘As soon as it can be arranged,’ he had replied, with forced jollity.
And now he was alone. Alone with his thoughts and all the freedom he had once craved. Freedom from the unrealistic and claustrophobic demands of something he had never asked for. He did not want her love—a love he was incapable of returning. And when she had told him she could not live that way he had let her go.
He had done the right thing by them all.
It was better this way.
He went to his office, but instead of distracting himself with the stack of paperwork which awaited his attention he found himself staring at the gold-framed photograph of his son, which Caitlin had taken. It had been shot soon after they had named Cameron’s pony and it had been his son’s first ride on Bunni. He had been beaming with pride and achievement and the look he had slanted at him had been all for his father. A look which had been conspiratorial and full of comradeship. And love.
And that was the photo which Caitlin had printed off and given to him in this golden frame. ‘This is my wedding gift to you,’ she had announced shyly.
He had felt choked—he wasn’t going to deny that. And yet he had resented the way she’d forced him to feel that emotion. Had it been that which had made him nod his thanks and turn away in a manner which some people might have described as churlish?
Turning away from the window, he began to pace the room, wondering how he could bear to endure what he alone had orchestrated. Yet this was all for the best. Those were the words he kept repeating, like a mantra. If he kept telling himself it would be better for Caitlin and Cameron in the long run, then wouldn’t that make his pain easier to bear?
But first he had to start believing it himself.
Sitting down behind his desk, he picked up his pen and pulled a sheet of paper towards him, not lifting his head or turning around to acknowledge the soft sound of the door opening behind him. Makim would quickly infer from his forbidding demeanour that he was not in the mood for conversation, or interruption. The way he felt right then, he couldn’t imagine talking to anyone ever again.
He heard the sound of the door closing and still he ignored it.
‘Kadir?’
It was a soft voice. A familiar voice. The voice which had murmured softly into his ear or cried out his name more times than he could bear to remember and Kadir cursed the tricks the mind could play. But he would not be haunted by her memory. He could not let himself do so—for that way lay madness.
‘Kadir?’
The voice was a little louder now and Kadir froze, then turned round to see Caitlin standing there, still wearing the tweed skirt and blouse she had changed into before leaving for her flight.
Alarmed, he dropped his pen and rose to his feet, black fears like crows crowding swiftly into his mind. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong.’
‘Then...’ He tensed, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face for clues. ‘Why are you here?’
Why was she here? It was a question Caitlin had asked herself over and over during the drive back here and she still wasn’t sure if she had come up with the right answer. The only thing she had known was that she couldn’t go through with taking a sobbing little boy all the way back to Scotland. A little boy who had spent the entire journey to the airfield asking for ‘Papa’. This might not be the best course of action—for her—but it was certainly the right thing for Cameron and she needed to cling on to that.
‘I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t go back,’ she said. ‘Cameron was missing you so badly already. He didn’t want to leave.’
‘He didn’t?’
The look of surprise and relief in his eyes was so raw that to see it felt as if she were invading a part of him he had never intended to show. And Caitlin realised then, as she had suspected all along, that Kadir could feel emotion. Just not for her. ‘Mothers are supposed to put their children first,’ she said. ‘That’s something my own mother never did for me, n
or yours for you—and maybe it’s time to redress that balance. I have to think about what Cameron needs—which is to stay here and grow up with you.’
‘But I saw the royal jet flying westward.’
‘I dispatched Makim to bring his hamster back here. The air-conditioning in the palace means he should be fine.’
He was shaking his head. ‘I don’t understand.’
She could see that. It seemed she was going to have to spell it out for him.
‘You told me you didn’t do love, or, rather, that you couldn’t do love. At first I didn’t want to believe it because it didn’t suit me, but gradually I came to accept that what you said was true. How could I fail to? You went out of your way to show me that you meant it. You made sure you pushed me away and kept me at arm’s length. You rejected all my attempts to grow closer. After our honeymoon, it was like you shut down completely.’
‘That much is true,’ he said flatly.
It was a blank admission and one which sounded devoid of regret, but Caitlin hid her unrealistic sense of disappointment and continued.
‘But you do love your son, don’t you, Kadir? You love him so much that it’s a gift to watch you together—it’s wondrous. Yet you were prepared to let him go. You were prepared to sacrifice your own feelings to do what you felt was the best thing for Cameron—and me. And sacrifice is a form of love. In fact, it’s possibly the greatest form of love there is, because it’s totally lacking in ego, or self-interest.’
She swallowed back the tears which were welling up at the back of her eyes, because she didn’t want to break down in front of him. There would be plenty of time for tears later.
‘And that’s why I’ve brought Cameron back to you.’
There was silence for a moment and his gaze was steady, as if he were giving her time to retract her statement, but when she said nothing, he spoke at last. ‘And you?’ he questioned heavily. ‘What will you do?’
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