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‘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?’
