‘My Lord, it is so good to see you again.’

Imogen looked past Nadir to where a small white-haired servant in white robes knelt on the polished stone steps of the palace, his sombre tone increasing Imogen’s sense of unease.

‘Staph—’ Nadir pulled the old servant to his feet ‘—I told you not to do that the other day.’

He’d been here recently?

The servant’s mouth quirked but the solemn note didn’t leave his voice. ‘We are glad of your return, My Lord.’

‘I wish I was.’ He switched to Arabic then and the old man bowed at her feet and beamed at her, speaking in rapid-fire Bakaani. She smiled hesitantly, wondering what it was that Nadir had just told him.

‘My Lord, Mistress Imogen, Princess Nadeena.’

Shocked at the label he had given her, Imogen shook her head. ‘I am not his mistress,’ she corrected a little more sharply than she’d intended. Had Nadir told him she was?

The little man dropped to his knees again and started spouting effusively in Bakaani but there was no smile this time.

Confused, Imogen shot Nadir a helpless glance and he sighed. ‘Staph meant you no discourtesy, Imogen. The word does not mean the same in our country as it does in the West.’

‘Oh, well...please tell him to get up. The ground must be really hard on his knees.’

She felt awful and smiled warmly at the man to show him she hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. ‘I’m sorry, I—’

‘Leave it, Imogen.’

Nadir’s face softened as his eyes fell on his daughter, half asleep in her arms. ‘Do you want me to take her?’

‘No!’ Nadir had offered to take her as they had boarded his plane earlier but she hadn’t been ready for that. She still wasn’t, even though her reluctance made her feel totally selfish. There was just too much unfinished business between them. ‘No. I’ve got her.’

His eyes narrowed but he didn’t push and she was grateful. ‘Come then. I will show you to our suite.’

Their suite?

She hurried after him.

‘I hope you know I’m not sleeping with you!’

Nadir turned halfway up the steps and the servant cast her a worried look.

Shaking his head, Nadir lowered his voice so he wouldn’t be overheard. ‘Bakaan is a conservative country, Imogen, and Staph does understand some English. Please keep your discussions about our situation private.’

‘I just want you to know that I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you in case you need to organise another room for us,’ she half whispered.

‘There are many bedrooms in the suite we will be using.’

‘Well, good.’ She felt her cheeks redden when she realised that he’d just confirmed her earlier suspicion that he didn’t want to sleep with her any more than she wanted to sleep with him.

Or any more than she wanted to want to sleep with him, she amended to herself. ‘At least we’re on the same page about that.’

The look he gave her was a mixture of exasperation and something darker that she couldn’t define. ‘Imogen, I doubt at this point that we’re even in the same book, let alone on the same page. But the steps of the Shomar Palace are not the place to discuss it.’

Silently agreeing, Imogen followed him through a wide doorway into an atrium with high coved ceilings and delicate mosaic-covered walls. The champagne marble tiles that lined the floors and the ornate brickwork dated back to what she thought might be the Moorish period, the surrounding artwork and centuries-old statues recording a history that was both dark and wondrous.

‘Has Prince Zachim been notified of our arrival?’

‘Yes, My Lord. Will you be needing anything else?’

‘Not tonight. Thank you, Staph.’

The man nodded. ‘I will bid you goodnight then.’ His English was stilted but Imogen appreciated the effort. ‘And may I say congratulations, My Lady.’

This time Imogen waited for the servant to retreat before questioning Nadir. ‘What is he congratulating me for, exactly?’

‘Our marriage. This is your room.’ He opened one of the doors inside and waited for her to precede him.

Imogen didn’t move, incredulous that Nadir would say such a thing when she had not agreed. ‘You told him we were getting married after I distinctly told you we wouldn’t be?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘What does “not exactly” mean?’

‘It means he believes we are already married.’

Imogen’s brows rose to her hairline. ‘I hope you relieved him of that erroneous view,’ she said primly.

When he sighed she knew that he hadn’t. ‘As I said, Bakaan is a conservative nation.’

Tags: Michelle Conder Billionaire Romance
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