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‘Please. Stay.’ Her words had been little more than a whisper but his answering kiss had told her that his doubts had fled. She remembered the way he had undressed her. His slow exploration and her own wondering reaction as he had taken her to the stars and back. Why, it had been so easy between them that he hadn’t even noticed she was a virgin.
‘Caitlin! There you are!’
She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she almost jumped out of her skin as Morag appeared in front of her, her greeting splintering Caitlin’s erotic introspection. But something was missing, because the childminder didn’t have her precious charge with her...
Caitlin blinked in alarm. ‘Where’s Cameron?’
Had Morag detected the sudden panic in her voice—was that what prompted her perplexed frown? ‘He’s gone to play with little Rory MacIntosh today, remember?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course. Silly of me. I don’t know what I was thinking of.’ Caitlin shunted out a sigh of relief but the concern hadn’t left Morag’s usually cheery face. And wasn’t it an indication of her unsettled state that her first thought had been that Kadir must have somehow arrived here before her, to spirit Cameron away, right from under everyone’s noses?
She looked at the kindly woman she’d known all her life and wondered how she was going to explain everything, knowing she needed to tell the ex-nurse the truth and nothing but the truth. She needed to tell someone.
‘Have you got time for a cup of tea before you go?’
Briefly, Morag’s eyes narrowed, before her face crinkled into a smile. ‘Tea? I thought you’d never ask!
* * *
‘If you would like to follow me, Miss Fraser?’
Caitlin nodded as she trailed the Sheikh’s aide through the huge and intimidating house, aware of Cameron’s hand held tightly in hers. Her own heart was pounding with apprehension but she thought her son seemed more excited than nervous. Maybe that wasn’t so surprising. It wasn’t every day a four-year-old got to fly on a private jet. Or to travel in the chauffeur-driven limousine which had been waiting for them when they’d touched down in London. She’d thought he might have been overwhelmed by a bombardment of new and very luxurious experiences, but the little boy had seemed to take them all in his stride.
‘Where are we going, Mummy?’ he’d asked at one point and Caitlin had known this was the moment of truth.
Looking directly into jet-dark eyes, which were so achingly like his father’s, she had swallowed the lump in her throat. Just keep it simple, Morag had advised her earlier, and Caitlin had clung on to the ex-nurse’s words like a lifeline.
‘We’re going to meet your daddy, Cameron. Remember, I told you about him last night? He’s come to England from a land a long way away so that he can see you.’
This information had been received with a wriggle of Cameron’s shoulders—a gesture which had hinted at anticipation rather than suspicion and Caitlin had told herself she was glad. But she hadn’t really been glad, had she? She had been afraid of so many things—some vague, some not. Because what if he was as blown away by his father as she had once been? What if he looked at her and found her dreary and poor and dull in comparison to his more dazzling parent?
And now they were here at Kadir’s home—or, rather, one of his many international properties, as his aide, Makim, had coolly explained. Caitlin had received this particular piece of news with a sinking heart. She’d been hoping the meeting might take place in another hotel. She had wanted the reassurance of being on neutral territory, knowing that at any minute she could just walk out with her son and that nobody would be able to stop her. But the car had brought them to the most beautiful house she’d ever seen—tall and white and elegant, sitting on a prestigious edge of London’s Regent’s Park. In the extensive grounds she had spotted several stony-faced guards with suspicious-looking bulges in their suit jackets and walkie-talkies within easy reach. A couple of hungry-looking guard dogs had been patrolling the perimeter and she had successfully dissuaded Cameron from going up to pet them. It certainly wasn’t the sort of place you could just walk away from.
She wished Morag were there to provide a little moral support, but the babysitter had been summoned away by a female servant and was currently in the kitchen drinking fresh mint tea.
‘Mummy! Mummy, look!’ exclaimed Cameron, letting go of her hand to point at a pair of stone cheetahs, which stood at either side of a huge set of ornate doors, as if they were guarding it. The two statues were gilded and their narrowed eyes glittered green, like real emeralds. Maybe they were emeralds, Caitlin thought faintly as Makim rapped on the doors, which were opened by a robed servant.
But she barely noticed the servant, she was too mesmerised by the man walking towards them, his eyes fixed intently on the small boy who was gazing around the stately salon in wonder. For a moment Cameron seemed too preoccupied by the vaulted ceilings, the jewelled chandeliers and mighty portraits of robed men on horses to notice anything else. But he must have gradually become aware that someone else was in the room and Caitlin witnessed the exact moment when it happened—the beginning of an instinctive love affair between her son and the father he had never met. And that knowledge was like a sharp blade to her heart.
She saw Cameron’s eyes widen as Kadir walked towards him and the robed Sheikh crouched down so that his eyes were on a level with his child’s. And, far from being disorientated by this exotically dressed stranger, Cameron just gazed back at him with all the bold curiosity of a child.
‘Hello, Cameron,’ said Kadir softly.
‘Hello.’ Cameron’s voice didn’t hold the slightest trace of shyness.
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘I think so.’ There was a pause. ‘My daddy?’
/> Kadir nodded. ‘Indeed I am. And it is good to meet you at long last.’
He lifted his gaze to acknowledge the watching Caitlin and she felt another stab of apprehension as she met the fleeting look of anger in his eyes. She told herself it would soon pass and the best way to facilitate that was not to react to his rage—though her resolve was tested when Kadir rose to his feet and held his hand out to Cameron.
And Cameron took it.
‘Shall I show you some of the pictures in the room and explain who they are?’ the Sheikh was asking.
‘Yes, please.’
