Читать книгу One Night Of Consequences Collection - Ким Лоренс, Annie West - Страница 49

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘KID, THAT’S SOME pitching arm you’ve got on you.’ Nadir leant down and picked up the ball Nadeena had lobbed from her high chair for the millionth time. It was a game she never seemed to tire of. ‘I can see you being a softball star when you’re older.’

She babbled gleefully when he placed the soft fabric ball back in front of her but, instead of throwing it straight away, she reached towards him with a big grin and tried to grab his keffiyeh. ‘Not that.’ He grinned down at her and pushed his headdress back over his shoulder. ‘I’ve explained that it doesn’t look so good scrunched up by grubby baby hands.’ Redirecting her attention to the ball, he checked his Rolex again and spied the empty doorway.

If Imogen didn’t show up soon they wouldn’t have time to stop for him to give her the ring that was burning a hole in his pocket and he didn’t want her facing a room full of dignitaries and gossips without it. And somehow it seemed important to solidify things between them. Important to remind her that she was with him now and always would be.

Their earlier conversation and her look of surprise when she’d asked him if he wanted more—and he’d said no—replayed in his head. For a moment she’d looked so vulnerable that he’d wanted to snatch the words back but there had been enough misunderstanding between them and he didn’t want there to be any more. But he supposed he should have realised that she was a romantic. That she would want love. It still irked him that she had said she didn’t want to marry without it because clearly she didn’t love him and he didn’t love her.

Which did not mean that their marriage was doomed. He had feelings for her and she might not think great sex was any reason to get married but it was a start and he knew she wasn’t as immune to him as she tried to pretend to be. Hell, that kiss had been proof enough of that, as was the way she held herself so carefully whenever he got close to her.

Nadeena clapped her chubby hands together with delight when he returned the ball to her yet again. ‘If only your mother was so easily pleased,’ he said softly.

She blew him a raspberry and he stroked his hand over her silky head. His daughter was a revelation to him—as was the depth of his feelings for her. Which only made him more determined to forge ahead with this marriage. Nadeena would not suffer the division of two parents’ expectations for her the way he and his sister had.

As she babbled at the ball again as if she might direct it from sheer will alone, Nadir grinned and felt his heart clench at her trusting gaze. He dropped a kiss on top of her head, turning when he heard the swish of fabric behind him.

Only to have his heart clench all over again.

Imogen stood framed in the doorway wearing a blue silk floor-length gown that on the hanger had looked beautiful. On her it looked extraordinary. Her slender dancer’s arms and the graceful line of her neck was exposed to his gaze, her hair a soft fall of golden waves around her shoulders. She looked every bit a royal princess. Every bit a woman any man would want on his arm. In his bed.

‘I think this is going to be too much for Nadeena. She didn’t sleep well last night.’

Nadir couldn’t take his eyes off her. ‘Do you mean you didn’t?’

Imogen’s mouth tightened. Her face looked pale and he could see the pulse in her throat going crazy. It bobbed as she swallowed and he couldn’t control the wave of tenderness that overcame him in that moment. Imogen—fearless Imogen who took him on at every turn—seemed truly daunted by the prospect of the evening ahead. Or was it something else? Him, perhaps?

It annoyed him that she was so set on ignoring the chemistry between them that pulled tight every time they were together. As far as he was concerned, that was the only thing really working for them right now and he’d happily embrace it if she would.

‘I’ve never left Nadeena with a stranger before.’ She gripped her hands together tightly. ‘She’s always had the neighbour across the street or Minh.’

The mention of her ex-lover seemed to wipe any rational thought from his brain. In fact imagining her with any other man did that... ‘She will be fine.’

‘My daughter needs me.’

‘Our daughter,’ he said impatiently. ‘And she’s just had two hours to get used to Maab and she seems genuinely happy with her.’

‘Two hours! It takes more than that to feel comfortable with someone.’

It hadn’t taken him five minutes to feel comfortable with her. ‘The grand ballroom is in the west wing, only a few minutes from here.’

‘I think I feel sick.’

Sympathy replaced irritation. This was all new for her; he had to remember that. ‘I will be by your side, habibi.’

She threw him a pithy glance. ‘Is that supposed to be of comfort?’

Yes, it had been. ‘Should I have told you that you will be on your own and if you make a mistake you’ll receive a thousand lashes?’

‘I might have believed that.’

Her dry sense of humour had drawn him from the start and right now he wanted to laugh, shake her and kiss her all at the same time. ‘Come.’

She stood stock-still. ‘I am not a dog, Nadir.’

‘No, you are a stunning woman who is trying her best to rile me,’ he said softly. ‘Fortunately for you, I have infinite control.’ Usually, he amended. Usually, when she wasn’t in the room, shredding it. He watched her wide, kohl-lined green eyes sparkle and then drop behind a veil of ebony lashes. Did she have any idea how incredibly beautiful she was to him? How much he wanted to possess her? How much he wanted to haul her into his arms and eat that pink gloss right off her lips? Having his old nanny and his daughter in the same room helped prevent it. But only just. ‘We need to go.’

If possible, she angled her chin higher. ‘To London?’

‘Not quite. But I admire your humour.’ He opened the door and beckoned for her to precede him.

She walked over to kiss their daughter before speaking to Maab. ‘If she cries at all then you’ll come and get me?’

‘Na’am, My Lady.’

‘Immediately?’

‘Na’am, My Lady.’

Her gaze looked troubled when she neared him. ‘I notice they say that a lot,’ she whispered. ‘Can I trust her?’

God, she was breathtaking. ‘Nothing will happen to Nadeena. Relax.’

* * *

Relax? Impossible. She was too acutely aware of the way Nadir’s regal robes brushed against the skirt of the amazing dress he had provided for her and the sense of power he effortlessly exuded. Walking beside him, it was hard to remember that none of this was real and that she didn’t want it to be real.

Or did she?

The moment Nadir had leant forward and kissed the top of Nadeena’s head as he played with her jumped into her consciousness and her heart lurched inside her chest. It had been identical to the thousands of kisses she had deposited on her daughter’s head herself—an instinctive and unconscious gesture of love. Was it possible she was wrong about Nadir? Was it possible he might one day love their daughter as deeply as she did?

Feeling confused and out of her depth, her steps faltered as they entered a grand atrium with exquisite inlaid arabesque carvings on the ceilings and walls and highly polished bronze flooring. Six elaborately dressed Bakaani guards stood to attention with guns strapped to their hips. One of the men glanced briefly at Nadir and stepped forward, his hand poised on a gilt-edged doorknob.

Imogen swallowed heavily, aware that she had no experience of this kind of thing, and insecurity and a deep sense of inadequacy fought it out for top position in her mind.

Stopping beside her, Nadir delved into a hidden pocket in his robe, muttering something about ‘earlier’ under his breath. Then he turned towards her and held out a ring with a stone the size of a small grapefruit—an oval-shaped diamond grapefruit that was exquisitely hand-crafted and the most divine piece of jewellery Imogen had ever seen. Both her heart and her mind did a double-take.

‘Before we go in you’ll need to put this on.’

Momentarily blank, she stared at it.

‘It’s an engagement ring.’

She knew what it was. Sometimes as a young girl she had imagined receiving one from a man she loved. She and her friends had even gone engagement ring shopping once when they had been bored after school. They had then dreamed up elaborate ways their future beaus might pop what had felt like the biggest question of their lives back then. At no time had any of them come up with the man of their dreams saying, ‘You’ll need to put this on.’

And how many times was she going to get her hopes up over this man only to have them dashed by the reality that he was here because she was the mother of his baby and for no other reason?

‘That’s not necessary,’ she said huskily, instinctively snatching her hands behind her back.

A frown drew down his brows as if her reluctance hadn’t occurred to him. ‘Of course it is. Many of the guests at the dinner are Western. They will expect to see you wearing my ring.’

A sickening sense of inevitability crept over Imogen and made her feel incredibly vulnerable. Incredibly exposed. ‘I can say I lost it if anyone asks.’

His frown turned into a scowl. ‘If it’s the fact that you didn’t choose it yourself that’s the problem you can swap it at a later date.’

That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that she didn’t want to swap it. The problem was that the ring was exactly what she would have chosen had he given her the choice. But he never would. The ruthless way he kept sweeping aside her insistence that she would not marry him as if it was nothing more than an empty spider’s web dangling in a doorway was evidence of that alone.

‘You have no idea, do you?’ she tossed at him, wanting to somehow hurt him the way he was currently hurting her. ‘I don’t want to wear your ring because it will ruin it when someone who really loves me wants to give me one.’

Swearing under his breath, Nadir’s expression grew stormy. ‘Damn it, Imogen, there won’t be anyone else putting a ring on your finger. So you can get that out of your mind right now.’

She shook her head, aware that they were studiously not being watched by the guards who stood to attention around them. As if sensing her discomfort, or uncomfortable himself, Nadir drew her to the side of the room in what probably looked like a loving gesture.

‘I thought I had explained how important tonight was.’

‘You don’t explain things, Nadir, you talk until you get what you want.’

‘I have explained.’ His tone was marked with frustration. ‘I was supposed to renounce the throne today but Zach didn’t show up. Now I have to host a dinner.’

‘But why don’t you want to be King? Zach said it was your birthright.’

He shut down. She saw it instantly in the set of his jaw. ‘The why is not important. It’s the intention that counts. I don’t want the job. Zach does. I suppose you intend to be difficult about this as well.’

Hurt by the implication that she was being difficult just for the sake of it, she flinched. ‘I’d like to understand it.’

‘Do you want to be Queen—is that it?’

‘No, that’s not it. I didn’t even think about that until just then.’

He looked at her.

‘I didn’t. Why would I when I haven’t even agreed to marry you?’

She’d be flattered at his insistence on marrying her if she thought there was any deep sentiment behind it. Basically, it was because of Nadeena with great sex thrown in as a side order.

Without warning, Nadir reached out and raised her chin so that her eyes met his. Instead of looking fierce and commanding he looked frustrated and weary and her heart lurched.

‘I need you to cut me some slack here, Imogen. I feel like I’m holding on by a thread.’

The raw words and his pained expression gave her pause but she was loath to let her heart soften towards him because he’d likely trample on it without even noticing.

Of course the traitorous organ didn’t listen to her head. It never did when he was around. When he was this close to her that his scent wound its way inside her and made her ache to lean in and press her face into his neck.

‘What is it, Imogen?’ His thumb drew light circles across her chin, the gesture more comforting than sexual. ‘What are you thinking?’

The width of his broad shoulders blocking the soldiers from her view established a feeling of intense intimacy between them and it was as if the dinner guests on the other side of the large doorway didn’t exist. ‘Honestly, Nadir, I don’t know what to think.’ She looked up at him and knew that her expression was troubled. ‘I don’t know what to feel or what to do any more. This is all so confusing and unexpected. One minute I’m alone with Nadeena and then... And what we had in Paris.’ She swallowed heavily and his frown deepened. ‘It was so...so...’ She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say that it was so special. That she had counted the minutes from Monday to Friday during that month they had been together and prayed that he would fly in and rap on her front door and kiss her even before he said hello. ‘And now I’m scared because everything feels so broken.’

Broken like her own home life had been. Like her heart had been after he had left Paris and like she feared it would be again if she let her guard down and agreed to marry him.

Nadir cupped her face, gently smoothing his fingers along her jaw line, stroking the velvety skin beneath her earlobes.

‘Imogen, look at me.’ The whispered words were fierce and oh, so close to her ear she could feel his warm breath stirring her hair. She could feel the tips of her breasts pressed lightly against the front of his robes. She stopped breathing as his voice washed over her in deep, melodic waves, her eyes riveted to his as her emotions surged to the surface. ‘Do not be scared. I promise you that I will take care of everything. You...Nadeena. I will protect you and provide for you.’ He tilted her chin up with the tip of his finger when her eyes fell away from his. ‘You will want for nothing, habibi. Not clothing or food or shelter.’ He searched her face. ‘Not diamonds or holidays or palaces. Whatever your heart desires I will give to you. What more is there?’

Love, Imogen thought achingly. Trust. Companionship. Friendship. And while she could see that he meant what he said, she knew that he was unlikely to feel those things for her and she was so afraid that she already did for him.

Imogen looked up and found that his silvery-blue eyes had turned stormy with emotion, dark with desire. His nostrils flared. She felt the change in the taut lines of his body and an answering response immediately swept through her own and made her feel soft and weak.

Force majeure, the French dancers had called him and they weren’t wrong. He was an irresistible power, a force of nature, and Imogen was like a house of straw caught up in the devastating storm of his masculinity. The devastating storm of his self-assurance.

The hand at her hip moved to the small of her back, pressing her so close it was bordering on indecent. Her gaze shifted to his mouth. His lips parted and hers did the same. Would he kiss her? Here? Now?

‘What do you say, Imogen? Will you give us a chance? For Nadeena.’

Imogen felt as if a lead weight had landed inside her chest. He wanted this for their daughter, who bound them together and divided them at the same time. She knew that if she continued to say no it would be beyond selfish because Minh had been right. Nadir did have a right to their daughter and she could either dwell on the past or try to embrace the future.

Feeling as if she was standing on the edge of a precipice with no clear landing over the side, she held out her left hand. ‘Okay, Nadir.’ She swallowed heavily. ‘For Nadeena.’

With only the briefest of hesitations, Nadir took her hand in his and slid the ring into place. Imogen stared at it, cold and heavy on her finger, and willed her heart to stay uninvolved this time.