Time seemed to stop as they stared at each other, both breathing hard. She wanted to tell him to let her go and perversely to hold her tighter at the same time.
She stared up at him, slightly dazed. Perhaps she was losing her mind...
‘Dammit, Imogen, you would try the patience of a saint and I’m definitely not a saint.’
She’d had every intention of resisting his kiss but every moment seemed to converge with her wanting his mouth on her. His hands. It was madness. It was glorious and when his mouth came down over hers and his hand rose to palm her breast Imogen moaned and gave herself over to the mindless pleasure of being close to him again. This—touching him, tasting him—was thrilling and she wasn’t sure how far she would have gone or when she would have called a halt to things when fate stepped in—or was it luck?—and they both broke apart as the high-pitched wail of a baby’s cry rent the air.
Panting and shocked at the sheer wantonness of her own response, Imogen nearly fell out of Nadir’s arms in her haste to put some space between them, her mind spinning, her body sluggish with arousal.
Nadir stared at her, his own chest heaving, and beneath his heated gaze and Nadeena’s sharp cries her breasts started to tingle and leak milk all over the front of the exquisite silk dress. Mortified, she cupped her hands over her breasts and fled next door to her daughter.
Trying to slow her breathing, she reached for the baby and cradled her against her chest before easing into the corner chair to feed her. ‘It’s okay, angel. Mummy’s here.’ She closed her eyes, her face hot with embarrassment at how easily she had slipped back into Nadir’s arms without thought or care of the consequences. Yesterday she had been trying to convince him that marriage was a mistake and now she had agreed to it. She had his ring on her finger and she still wasn’t sure she wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of her life.
As if conjured by her thoughts, Nadir materialised in the doorway, his hair askew where her fingers had tangled in it, his features drawn tight with unfulfilled desire.
‘Do you need anything?’ His deep voice rumbled through her and momentarily distracted Nadeena. She glanced down to find her daughter’s eyes open and staring, trying to find her father and feed at the same time.
‘I’m fine.’ Imogen stroked her hand over Nadeena’s head, settling her. She wasn’t fine, of course—she was flustered, confused, unsatisfied.
‘Water? Can I get you water?’ For the first time he looked out of his depth and her heart clenched. ‘I read that breastfeeding mothers need to drink lots of water.’
He had? Her surprise must have shown on her face because he ran a hand through his hair and his jaw set hard.
‘Water would be nice,’ she said softly, her mind struggling to adapt to the return to normality between them. She shook her head at that. It struggled to adapt to what passed as normality between them since Nadir had stepped back into her life. A normality that was still defined by past hurts and an uncertain future.
‘Here.’
She blinked as a glass of water was thrust in front of her.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He nodded and took it back when she’d drained the glass. ‘Can I get you anything else?’
‘No, no.’ She placed Nadeena on her shoulder to burp her. ‘No, everything should be—oh!’ Imogen squirmed as she felt warm baby spew slide down over her bare shoulder and the top half of her dress. ‘Oh.’
She heard Nadir chuckle. ‘“Oh” is right.’
The look on his face made her suddenly feel like laughing and groaning at the same time with embarrassment. Then Nadeena grew fussy and started crying, jamming her tiny fists into her mouth.
‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘I suspect it’s her teeth.’ She touched her hand to Nadeena’s forehead. ‘She’s not overly hot so...’ She scrunched her brow. ‘It could be that she’s just tired and out of sorts because it’s late. It’s hard to figure out what’s wrong with babies sometimes.’
‘Not just babies.’
His rueful comment hung between them and just when she might have asked what he meant by it he held out his arms. ‘Here, give her to me.’
‘No, no...it’s fine, I can—’
‘I know you can, Imogen,’ he agreed flatly. ‘But you need to go clean up and I can settle her while you do it.’
‘Oh, right.’ Clean up. She’d completely forgotten about the sour milk on her shoulder and dress. She handed Nadeena to him and watched as he confidently tucked her into the crook of his muscular arms. ‘Come on, habibti,’ he crooned, ‘let’s get you settled.’