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.
CHAPTER NINE
NADIR DISMISSED MAAB after she gave him a full report on Nadeena’s well-being at the end of the evening and circled the living room waiting for Imogen to return from checking on her.
In many ways they were just like any other couple returning home at the end of an evening out. One saw to the sitter, the other checked on the baby.
He glanced towards the drinks cabinet and thought about pouring them a glass of brandy. If they really were just like any other couple they would take advantage of the fact that the baby was sleeping and maybe have a nightcap before falling all over each other as soon as possible.
Nadir’s eyes tracked down over Imogen as she stepped into the room, the evening gown flowing around her svelte frame and clinging to her hips. Images of her in his king-sized bed fogged his brain. Her long, toned, flexible legs wrapped around his hips, her supple back arched in passion as she rode him, her small, high breasts jutting forward, begging for his mouth. If they were just like any other couple he’d have her in that position pronto.
And why not? She had agreed to marry him. Or, rather, she had acquiesced—because that was what her strained little For Nadeena had sounded like to his ears. Even so, he should be feeling relieved right now to have that sorted. Triumphant, even. But he didn’t. If anything, he felt as if it was a Pyrrhic victory because, while he might have gained her agreement, he could see by the wall she had erected between them that he had gained very little else.
And right now he wanted to tear that wall down. Right now he wanted more from her than shy, covert glances that only served to heighten his awareness of her as a woman. His awareness of her as his woman.
All night she’d been giving them to him as she worked the room like a pro. At first he’d thought her nervousness stemmed from some sort of insecurity but he’d soon discounted that. She’d handled herself beautifully. Talking to the Sultan of Astiv about his love of antique glassware while those around him nearly fainted with boredom and then recounting war stories about the trials and tribulations of competitive waterskiing with the Prince of Mana.