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‘Yes,’ he observed. ‘Desire can be extremely inconvenient, can’t it, Caitlin?’

Her heart was pounding so loudly she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Please. Do not insult my intelligence. I may not have seen you for five years but if I held a mirror up to your face, you would behold the expression of a woman who wants me to kiss her,’ he concluded softly.

‘How dare you?’ she said.

‘I dare because it is the truth,’ he breathed, and now his black eyes had grown smoky. ‘And what is the point in playing games? Be honest, Caitlin. If not with me, then at least with yourself.’

She shook her head and when she spoke, the words felt like rocks in her throat. ‘You seem to hold the truth in very high regard, but only when it suits you. Did your wife know what was going on the night you slept with me, Kadir?’ she croaked. ‘Maybe you even discussed it with her afterwards and gave me marks out of ten. I don’t know. I don’t have much knowledge of this kind of thing, but did you have what some people call an open marriage?’

CHAPTER FOUR

KADIR FROZE, FOR her choked and wounded words hurt and he had not expected them to hurt. Because his night with her and its aftermath had been nothing like her bald accusation about having an open marriage. In fact, she was so far off the mark it was almost funny, except that this was no laughing matter. And although he had ignored her earlier allegations of infidelity because he’d been angry about having been kept in the dark about his son, he realised he was going to have to explain himself.

But it wasn’t easy. Few people knew the truth about his late wife and there was very little on record—deliberately so. It had been hushed up by the palace both during and after her short and tragic life. Nobody would ever have dared ask the question which Caitlin Fraser had just asked and if they had, he would have shut down the conversation immediately, telling them it was none of their business and that nobody had the right to question the King.

Yet Caitlin did have the right. He could see that. She obviously perceived him as some kind of monster—perhaps with good reason, he conceded reluctantly—and that unsavoury character assessment could not be allowed to continue, not if his ambitions were to be realised. He needed her to revise her opinion of him but he must tread carefully if he wanted her to agree to his plan to allow Cameron to travel to Xulhabi.

Because that was the reason she was here today. The only reason.

‘It’s true that I was legally married when I had sex with you.’

‘You’ll have to do better than that, Kadir,’ she said coldly. ‘Surely all marriage is legal?’

He gestured towards one of the most comfortable chairs. ‘Won’t you sit down?’

‘I’d prefer to stand.’

‘Please,’ he said obdurately, for her face had grown very white and he felt a flicker of concern for her welfare. But despite her initial refusal, she sank into the chair and he thought how out of place she looked in this lavish setting, in her well-worn clothes. Yet there was something so gloriously accessible about her, too—for she possessed a luminous quality which transcended the faded jeans and heather-coloured sweater. Was it that jog to his memory which made him recall a similar sweater, peeled off to reveal a thermal vest beneath and the rare sound of his own laughter as he had wondered aloud how long it would take him to reach her bare flesh. Hadn’t he laughed more during those twelve hours than at any other time he could remember? He felt a sudden tension in his body as he acknowledged how seriously he had underestimated the earthy appeal of humour.

And perhaps Caitlin had sensed the unwanted erotic path of his thoughts. Perhaps that was why she suddenly thrust her chin forward with a look of pure challenge, her eyes flashing ice blue fire.

‘I’ve

asked you a straight question and I’d appreciate a straight answer,’ she snapped. ‘So please don’t bother concocting any lies just to spare my feelings.’

Kadir began to pace the priceless Persian rug, the walls of the huge salon suddenly feeling as if they were closing in on him. How long since he had examined this particular subject? How long since he had wanted to, or dared to? He shook his head. ‘It is difficult to know where to start—’

‘I don’t think it’s difficult at all,’ she said, her face taking on an intense expression, as if someone were digging a sharp object into her flesh but she was determined not to show how much it hurt. ‘I thought we were talking about your wife. That’s the woman you were married to on the night you had sex with me, in case you need me to jog your memory for you.’

Kadir recognised that he deserved her condemnation for what he had done, yet surely nobody could condemn him quite as ruthlessly as he had done himself. How many times had he woken in the middle of the night, plagued by the guilt of his actions—a guilt compounded by the realisation that he had been powerless to stop himself.

This woman alone had the power to override his will and his best intentions—and wasn’t that an ongoing threat which he needed to guard himself against?

He cleared his throat. ‘I think it’s important you understand some of my background before I get to the subject of marriage.’

‘In Scotland, that’s what we’d call time-wasting.’

‘I was brought up as the only child of the King in very turbulent times,’ he continued roughly. ‘As the sole heir to the throne, a strong sense of duty was instilled in me since birth. My destiny has hung heavy on my shoulders for as long as I can remember. It still does.’ He paused. ‘It is the tradition of Kings from the Al Marara bloodline to marry women of similar pedigree—’

‘Like breeding racehorses, you mean?’

He shot her a look. ‘Look, Caitlin, we aren’t going to get very far if you continue to be obstructive.’

The tone of his voice was suddenly censorious and Caitlin suspected it would have intimidated many people. But she was way beyond intimidation. Way beyond anything she recognised as normal behaviour. Instinctively, she realised she was fighting for something—she just didn’t know what it was.

‘All right. Go on,’ she said stonily, though she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to hear a story unfold less than she did this one.

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