Grinning, Imogen took the sling and slid it over her shoulders and settled Nadeena against her, all her earlier feelings of unease completely gone. She linked her arm through Minh’s. ‘You know how much I appreciate your help, right? I mean I can’t thank you enough for babysitting today. Yesterday.’ She made a face. ‘Last week.’
‘She’s a darling child and the dodgy film I’m editing is still in the can. Until they call me back I’m a free man.’
‘Don’t let David hear you say you’re a free man,’ she teased.
About to give her some spunky reply, Minh’s jaw fell open and nearly hit the pavement. ‘Hold that thought,’ he breathed in a stage whisper. ‘The archangel of heaven has just landed and he’s wearing Armani and a terrific scowl.’
Laughing at the theatrics he picked up from working with film stars, Imogen turned and her jaw not only hit the pavement, it continued all the way to Australia.
The ruthless, heartless bastard who had left her pregnant and alone in Paris was heading towards her, his long, loose-limbed strides eating up the pavement and scattering startled pedestrians like a shark mowing down a school of tuna.
Imogen’s arms instinctively came up to wrap around a sleepy Nadeena, her mind completely blank.
Nadir stopped directly in front of her. ‘Hello, Imogen.’ As tall as she was, she still had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes that were currently shielded by aviator sunglasses reflecting her own stunned expression back at her. ‘Remember me?’
Imogen was in such a state of shock at seeing him after only just thinking about him so vividly all her addled brain could come up with was how impossibly good-looking he was in his black suit. How tousled his midnight hair looked—no doubt from where he had run his fingers through it a hundred times already. Her own immediately itched to do the same thing and she curled them into the soft fabric of Nadeena’s sling, disconcerted by the immediate and compelling effect he still had on her.
‘I...of course.’
She swallowed heavily as his eyes dropped to Nadeena. The glint from his sunglasses made him look like a steely-eyed predator eyeing succulent prey. ‘You had the baby.’
Something in the way he said that in his deep, smooth baritone that defied geographical distinction made the hairs stand up on the back of Imogen’s neck.
It was the underlying anger, she decided. Maybe even fury. And for the life of her she couldn’t imagine why he should be so upset. He had left her fourteen months ago so didn’t that mean she had the jump on anger right now? Unfortunately all she could conjure up was paralysed shock.
Sensing her unease, Minh shifted defensively beside her and Imogen took a deep breath, rallying her scattered senses. ‘Yes.’ She cleared her throat.
‘That’s nice.’ Nadir’s smile was all even white teeth and completely lethal. Then he slowly drew off his sunglasses and his shockingly beautiful blue-grey eyes drilled into hers with all the warmth of a glacier. ‘Who’s the father?’
CHAPTER TWO
WHO’S THE FATHER?
Imogen stared at Nadir, slowly digesting his snarled words. She’d only heard him use that tone once before and it was on the phone to some poor sod in his home country and the shock of it kick-started her brain into a usable gear. Steadying her trembling knees, she forced a smile to her lips and thought that of course he would want to know about the baby. Why wouldn’t he? It was his doctor, after all, who had confirmed her pregnancy that fateful night in his Paris apartment all those months ago.
God, if she’d only left work five minutes earlier or later this whole situation might have been avoided. She swallowed heavily and forced herself to meet his hard stare, his raised eyebrow that could make him look either wickedly seductive or incredibly foreboding. Today it was definitely foreboding, which didn’t help to explain the electrodes of excitement pulsing through her body, making her both shivery and hot at the same time.
No, not excitement, she corrected; it was adrenaline. Her fight or flight system was on overload; her reaction could hardly be considered excitement after the way he had treated her. The reminder of that helped calm her down and she gave him a tight smile, a deep sense of self-preservation warning her not to answer his question just yet. ‘It’s a surprise to see you like this.’
‘I’m sure it is, habibi. Now answer my question.’
Swallowing heavily, she raised her chin. He used to whisper that term of endearment to her when he was about to seduce her and God, she wished it wasn’t such an effort to hold those erotic memories of their fleeting time together at bay but it was. ‘Why do you ask?’