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He and Suzy had gone straight to their room, emerging several hours later all bright-eyed and laughing softly. As a demonstration of easy sexuality it couldn’t have been more apparent, and Catrin knew she hadn’t imagined Murat’s stony expression as he’d shot a meaningful glance in her direction.
Niccolo arrived alone. He’d flown straight from New York and seemed rather distracted throughout the day. But at dinner, Catrin found herself sitting next to him and found him entertaining company. He told her about meeting Murat on the ski slopes a decade earlier and then talked about growing up in Milan. But as the coffee was being served, he lowered his voice so that only she could hear.
‘Listen, I want to apologise for Lise’s behaviour towards you the other night.’
Catrin remembered his girlfriend’s words puncturing her foolish little world of make-believe and she shook her head. ‘Honestly. It’s fine, Niccolo. You could have brought her with you, if you’d wanted. I wouldn’t have minded.’
‘But I would’ve minded,’ he said stubbornly. ‘I don’t like women who take pleasure from other people’s misfortune.’
Catrin’s smile didn’t slip, even though she thought his words made her sound like some kind of victim.
So don’t be one.
‘Actually, I think maybe she did me a favour,’ she said. ‘Sometimes, I think it’s best to get things out in the open, don’t you?’
But the Italian’s expression remained impenetrable as he shook his head. ‘On the contrary,’ he said. ‘In my country secrets are as much a part of us as the air we take into our lungs.’ His eyes were curious as he looked from her to Murat, who was sitting on the far side of the table. ‘But you have obviously forgiven him.’
Catrin stared down at the melting puddle of peach sorbet in her dish. She knew that Niccolo and Murat went back a long way but even so it would be an unthinkable breach of etiquette to start discussing the Sultan’s personal life, no matter how close their friendship. ‘It isn’t for me to forgive someone like Murat. He is his own master.’ She glanced up to see the Italian girl approaching with a tray of coffee and quickly changed the subject. ‘Mmm. Doesn’t that coffee smell delicious?’
She could hear Suzy giggling at something Murat had said and as she sipped from her dinky cup of espresso, Catrin marvelled at how much she had learnt during her time as the Sultan’s consort. She now knew the basics of royal protocol and how to eat an oyster. She could talk knowledgeably about the French Impressionists and was completely at ease around servants and bodyguards. She thought about the life she had come from and the one which lay ahead. And wondered if she would ever eat in a setting as beautiful as this again, with men who owned oil wells or who prowled the fleshpots of the world, with their restless blue eyes.
‘What do you think, Cat?’
Murat voice broke into her thoughts and she looked across the table to find his gaze fixed on her. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I was miles away.’
His eyes gleamed in the candlelight. ‘Alekto and I are just musing about why the public hate wind farms so much.’
Catrin put her cup down. ‘Because they look so startling, I guess.’
‘And people don’t like that look?’ questioned Alekto, swirling wine around in his glass.
‘Not really. I think it takes time for them to accept something which is so alien to them—something which looks as if it’s come from another planet,’ she answered slowly. ‘If I wanted to improve the image of wind farms, I’d go to an art college and ask some of the most promising students to create images to make them seem interesting, and then I’d mount an exhibition of their work and create a lot of press interest. Wind farms as art. A positive image, for once.’
Niccolo leaned back in his chair. ‘That is actually a very good idea. And so brilliantly simple.’
They were all looking at her now, but it was only Murat’s face she could see.
‘And this,’ he said softly, his eyes not leaving her face, ‘from the woman who’d never even seen a flowering cactus.’
His words made no sense to anyone else but her, but they made Catrin’s heart give a kick of unbearable pain. Why was he reminding her of a time when she hadn’t thought beyond the way he had made her feel? She wondered if she would have walked so blindly into the affair if she’d known what awaited her? Of course she wouldn’t. Because who, other than a masochistic fool, would open their arms to inevitable heartbreak?
Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, she rose to her feet, forcing herself to smile at them. ‘And now I wonder if you’d mind excusing me? I’m going to turn in...it’s been a very long day.’
It was indeed late and there was no objection from Niccolo or Alekto—and Suzy was so busy gazing at her Greek lover that she scarcely seemed to hear her. But Murat made no attempt to hide the flash of annoyance which hardened his lips. She knew that going to bed was a cop-out and that maybe she wasn’t fulfilling her part of the bargain, but suddenly Catrin didn’t care. She couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine. Sitting there with that cool hostess smile on her lips and talking about wind farms, while inside her heart was breaking.
Why the hell had she agreed to come here?
Quickly, she walked towards the house and slipped into the room she was sharing with Murat without bothering to turn on the light. She could see her phone flashing from inside her handbag and when she pulled it out, she saw that her sister had left two texts.
Mum on real bender this time, read the first.
The second was more direct. And of more immediate concern. Can u come home Cat? Your turn now.
Guilt rushed through her as she stared at the illuminated screen, realising that she’d barely given a thought to the situation back home. She had been so preoccupied with her own problems that she hadn’t stopped to consider Rachel and how she was coping with their drunken mother. And that wasn’t fair.
The bedroom door opened and the light which flooded in highlighted the powerful figure who was standing in the doorway.
‘All alone in the darkness, Cat?’ came his soft taunt. He switched on the light. ‘Why’s that?’
