Prince Nadir's Secret Heir

by Michelle Conder

  He nodded as if this was normal. As if she hadn’t dreamt of him and wished in her darkest moments that he wouldn’t come for her. Tell her that he missed her. Tell her that he loved her. Tell her that he couldn’t live without her. Dreams not worth the sleep they had interrupted.

  ‘A child deserves to be raised by both parents.’ He regarded her steadily. ‘Or are you going to argue with me about that too?’

  ‘Only if both parents love and want her.’

  ‘I agree.’

  Imogen clamped her mouth mutinously closed and turned her attention to the intricate patterns on the Persian rug at her feet before she said something she’d truly regret.

  Nadir sighed. ‘Believe it or not, Imogen, I only have Nadeena’s best interests at heart.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes.’ She heard a hardness enter his voice at her scepticism.

  She looked at him and all the fight left her and a great sense of doom pervaded her limbs. ‘And what if a marriage between us is the worst thing for her?’

  He looked genuinely perplexed by her question. ‘I don’t see how it could be.’

  ‘Because it would be nothing but a marriage of convenience.’

  ‘I don’t see it that way.’

  She blew out a frustrated breath. ‘How can you not?’

  He stepped in front of her, breathing as hard as she was. ‘Because there’s nothing remotely convenient about marriage and ours will be real.’

  Real? Imogen swallowed heavily and lost her breath. ‘I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean.’

  ‘We will be man and wife in every sense of the word, habibi,’ he said softly with the same confidence she had once loved.

  Imogen’s chin jutted forward. ‘I didn’t think you were into force.’

  She knew that if she revealed just how badly he affected her it would be akin to lying down and waving a white flag. So she held her breath as his eyes ran over her face and down over her throat and willed herself not to move, silently urging her racing heartbeat to slow to a moderate gallop.

  As if he couldn’t help himself, he raised his hand and brushed his thumb across her lips in a whisper-soft caress that made every one of her nerve endings tingle. For a long moment they just stared at each other and then he ruined the moment by speaking. ‘Force, habibi?’

  The gentle words mocked her and she jerked back and stepped away from him, doing her best to ignore the way the blood pounded heavily through her body and highlighted her inability to control her attraction to him. No man had ever affected her so deeply that she forgot who she was and where she was and she refused to give him that kind of power over her again. It made her feel helpless to follow her own will. It made her hungry to taste him. It made her willing to risk everything. Almost...

  Forcing herself to take another slow step backwards, she banked her confused emotions as best she could and reached down deep for reason. ‘Be serious, Nadir. A child will completely cramp your lifestyle. They’re inconvenient and messy and exhausting and...and...’ Wonderful and joyous and funny and loving... She swallowed. ‘And smelly. Really smelly at times.’

  Nadir paced away from her and then turned sharply on his heel. ‘I don’t understand you. Most women would be jumping for joy at the prospect of having a rich man take care of her and her child.’

  ‘Except I’m not most women and I know this is a mistake. My parents married because my mother was pregnant with me and it was a miserable affair for everyone. They stayed together even though my father was seeing another woman because my mother believed a child should be raised by two parents. My father resented being tied to us and after a while I stopped wishing he would pay me attention.’

  ‘I won’t resent you.’

  Embarrassed at having revealed her deepest wounds to him, Imogen scoffed. ‘How can you say that? You have a reputation of being the unobtainable playboy that spans continents.’

  His lips thinned into a flat line. ‘People see what they want to see. But if you think love is some sort of guarantee of a happy union, it isn’t. My parents were the poster children for that particular misconception and they didn’t last.’

  Imogen frowned. ‘I find that hard to believe if it was true love,’ she said huskily.

  ‘Believe it. They separated when my father took a second wife and—’

  ‘Took a second wife!’

  ‘Yes, it is the custom that men in Bakaan can take more than one wife.’

  ‘You can definitely forget marriage then.’

  He smiled wearily. ‘Don’t worry. I am not a masochist.’

  ‘Is that supposed to be funny? I think it’s appalling that men are allowed to have more than one wife. I bet the women aren’t allowed more than one husband.’

  ‘No. And it bothered my mother just as much. In the end they hated each other so much there was never any joy in visiting either one of them. My mother was always trying to get us to prove our love by feeding her information about our father and our father was constantly derogatory about her and wanting to know what she was up to behind his back. It was as if they couldn’t let each other go and frankly it was exhausting.’

  And no doubt emotionally crippling, Imogen thought. Which was so unlike the picture she had formed in her mind about his childhood. For some reason she had assumed that his life had been full of opulence and fun and the security of belonging to an ancient dynasty. It seemed she had been wrong. At least about the fun and security.

  Curiosity made her pause and she wanted to ask him more but he got in first.

  ‘Forget it.’ His flinty gaze seemed to penetrate deep into her mind. ‘And forget shared custody, Imogen.’

  At the reminder of their earlier argument Imogen’s spine straightened. ‘You’re impossible to reason with.’

  ‘That’s because you know I’m right.’

  Shaking her head, she would have turned away from him then—anything to put some distance between herself and his half-naked body that seemed to beckon her to reach out and touch it—but his hands came down on her shoulders and held her immobile.

  Imogen trembled and knew he felt it by the satisfied gleam that seemed to soften his gaze. ‘I’ve never stopped wanting you, Imogen, and that kiss back in my apartment proves we share an incredibly strong chemistry. Why fight it?’

  Realising with a pang that she was held captive under his unwanted spell, Imogen wrenched herself out of his hold and swung away from him. Embarrassed at how easily she became enthralled by him, how easily she succumbed to his words, his touch, she let anger at him, at herself, at the whole world take hold. ‘You want to know why?’ She squared off in front of him. ‘Because, no matter what happens, I have no intention of marrying you and because, despite what you believe, a marriage based on sex will always be weak.’

  ‘Perhaps. But you’re a smart girl and you must realise that a marriage based on mutual chemistry and shared interests has strength.’

  Imogen didn’t feel very smart right now. She felt wrung out and beaten. ‘And what do you think that we share, Nadir?’ she all but spat at him, desperate to lash out at him in any way that she could. Desperate to alleviate the giant ball of emotion welling up inside her and threatening to burst right out of her. ‘That could possibly hold a marriage between us together?’

  She slapped her hands on her hips and waited for his response but she should have known that he’d have an answer poised on his lips that would floor her. She should have known that a man whose negotiation skills in the business world were second to none would have something up his sleeve to make her feel as big as a thimble.

  ‘Nadeena.’ He paused to let his words sink in. ‘We have Nadeena.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AFTER WAITING FOR Zach inside the council chambers for nearly an hour it was safe to say that Nadir
was now extremely irritated. Yes, he’d managed to field a few important work calls while he waited but there was only so much he could get done from a country with limited Internet resources.

  He also needed to sort things out with Imogen but she’d steadfastly avoided him all morning and frankly he hadn’t tried that hard to challenge her on it. Last night’s discussion—hell, argument—had played heavily on his mind and made sleep impossible.

  Before picking her up yesterday he’d expected to find that she’d aborted his baby, mainly, it had to be said, because she hadn’t approached him for a truckload of money and for a while yesterday he’d continued to think that maybe she was somehow playing him for a fool. He’d continued to believe that she had run from him because she’d had something to hide.

  He didn’t think that now. She was too earnest in her attempts to get him to change his mind about their marriage. Too earnest in her belief that he had been the one to do the wrong thing by her and not the other way around.

  * * *

  He recalled her fierce expression when she’d mentioned his text. At the time he hadn’t contemplated the possibility that she would be upset by it. He hadn’t contemplated the possibility that she would feel abandoned by his return to New York and feel as if she had to deal with her pregnancy alone. Guilt knifed through him.

  He supposed, if he was honest, he’d been mostly to blame because he hadn’t communicated his feelings to her, but how the hell was he supposed to have done that when he didn’t know how he had been feeling?

  Dealing with emotions had never been his strong suit, even before his mother and sister had died.

  He remembered his mother encouraging him to embrace that side of his nature and his father telling him it was dangerous and it had been his father who had been proved right.

  Nadir sighed. He’d never seen the benefit of rehashing the past and he still didn’t. A man either took action or he bowed out of the game. Nadir had no intention of bowing out. Not with Imogen at any rate.

  He glanced at the admiral’s chair his father used to occupy at the end of the room during council meetings. As heir to the throne he had always been encouraged to sit in on those meetings and he’d loved them. He’d loved listening to his father taking charge and issuing orders. Watching him handle political issues.

  His father had openly shared this side of himself and it wasn’t until Nadir had left Bakaan that he’d realised how isolated and increasingly paranoid his father had become. How only a select few were ever allowed into his inner sanctum and then only if those select few agreed with him. From the age of twelve Nadir had started to do that less and less and that was when the rot had set in. That was when his father had started trying to keep him from his mother and sister, explaining that the ties he found the hardest to cut were the ones that needed to be cut most of all.

  He rubbed a hand across his face. One of the issues between him and Imogen was that she was, at heart, an emotional and sensual woman who didn’t hold back. It was both a draw and a deterrent—although right now he was honest enough to admit that the draw side was definitely winning out. Probably it had been too long since he’d had a woman. It wasn’t natural for a healthy male to go without sex for fourteen months.

  Hell.

  Did he owe Imogen an apology for his behaviour back then? It wasn’t a position he had found himself in for years and the last two people he’d needed to apologise to were dead.

  Out of the corner of his eye he noticed one of his father’s senior council members break away from the group and, like a drowning man grasping for a life raft, he welcomed the interruption to his thoughts.

  Old and set in his ways, Omar had never been on Nadir’s list of favourite people but he was knowledgeable and, as far as he was aware, loyal to a fault.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘We don’t know where he is, Your Highness. He’s not answering his phone.’

  Nadir gritted his teeth. His brother had said he needed to go into the mountains on some business or other. He’d flown the helicopter himself. Now he was nowhere to be seen and the helicopter was still at the airfield. There was no sign of foul play or anything amiss. ‘Fine—we’ll proceed without him.’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible, Your Highness.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘In order for you to renounce your position as King, we need to have your successor present.’

  ‘Well, he’s not here and I have a business to run.’

  ‘The council understand, Your Highness,’ he said in a way that let Nadir know they didn’t understand at all. ‘But you are still our acting King and there is a UAE dinner tonight that has been planned for months. It is too late to cancel. Many of the heads of state have already flown into Bakaan. It was quite a coup for Prince Zachim to arrange it. Many will be staying all week on official business.’

  ‘Then Zachim should be here to run it,’ Nadir bit out.

  ‘Indeed, Your Highness.’ Omar nodded deferentially.

  Aware that he was being manipulated but knowing that he was boxed in until Zachim returned, Nadir muttered a curse. ‘Okay, I’ll do it.

  ‘Very good, Your Highness. And shall I set a place for your wife?’

  Nadir’s gaze sharpened on the older man. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Because spouses have been invited to the dinner. As everyone has heard about your wife, they will expect to see her there.’

  Nadir had a good idea how Imogen was going to take that news. ‘Try calling my brother again.’

  ‘Of course, Your Highness.’

  Nadir paced again while Omar dialled his phone. Most likely it wouldn’t work, given the rudimentary telecom system his father had installed in the country. That was another possible reason why no one could reach Zachim. Either that or his brother was hiding out in some attempt to get him to step into the role as leader.

  Nadir stilled. Was that it? Was Zach forcing his hand? He frowned as the idea sprouted roots and leaves. As a child, Zachim had often run away and hidden when he was in trouble, waiting for their father’s wrath to subside before coming out again. By then Nadir had usually copped Zach’s share of the punishment as well as his own so it wasn’t a bad strategy—one Nadir had been too proud to ever try himself—but it was quite possible that Zach was right now holed up somewhere with a woman and a case of wine. If he was...Nadir shook his head. If he was, he’d beat him to a pulp when he returned.

  ‘No luck, Your Highness.’

  ‘Fine. Set a place for Imogen.’ Nadir turned to leave the room, already thinking about what needed to be done before the evening dinner when Omar’s next words stopped him cold.

  ‘And your wedding?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Your wedding? You may have forgotten but a Western marriage is not recognised as legal for a member of the royal family. It would be best, Your Highness, if you formalised the marriage in a traditional ceremony as soon as possible.’

  Hoping that the issue of his legal ties to Imogen wouldn’t have arisen in the small amount of time he was supposed to be in Bakaan, Nadir sighed. ‘I suppose you have a perfect date available, Omar?’

  ‘As soon as possible, Your Highness. There is some unrest in the northern part of the country and some who would wish to destabilise the throne. It is important that the people observe their crown prince behaving in a way befitting the leadership.’

  ‘You know I do not intend to become the next leader of Bakaan, Omar, so the timing doesn’t matter,’ Nadir said tightly.

  ‘As you wish, Your Highness.’

  Realising that he was being obstinate and the council members had no idea why he didn’t want the damned leadership role, Nadir softened his position. ‘I know you’re worried, Omar, but don’t be. Zachim will most likely be back before the evening meal is served. In the meantim
e, if you think that formalising my marriage is absolutely necessary then organise the ceremony for a week from today.’

  That would give Zach plenty of time to stop playing his games—if he was actually staying away on purpose—and get back here. And on the off-chance he was still holding out on him in a week then they would marry. It wasn’t any big deal because it was going to happen, one way or another.

  * * *

  ‘I’m sorry—who did you say you were?’

  Imogen placed Nadeena in the baby recliner beside the beautifully paved swimming pool and fastened the safety catch, the fronds of the palm trees overhead keeping the scorching sun from burning her. When she was done she turned to the two women standing in the open doorway. One was young and striking-looking in the traditional cream-coloured outfit that denoted the palace servants and the other woman was much older and dressed in faded black garments. And her eyes were transfixed by Nadeena.

  ‘My name is Tasnim and this is Maab,’ the younger one said with a wide smile ‘We are your servants, My Lady.’

  ‘Oh.’ Imogen smiled kindly. Used to fending for herself and preferring it that way, she had no need for servants. ‘Thank you, but—’

  Before she could say anything, Maab had moved closer to Nadeena and was crooning something in Arabic. As if sensing Imogen’s regard, she turned and bowed her head, speaking in rapid Bakaani.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Imogen said, ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Please excuse Maab, My Lady. She does not speak very much English but she is excellent with babies and helped raise the royal siblings when they were little. She is asking if she might approach the little princess.’

  ‘Well, of course she can.’ Imogen smiled encouragingly and the old woman knelt down in front of Nadeena and gasped in surprise. She started spouting the name Sheena and smiling broadly.

  Confused, Imogen turned to Tasnim for clarification.

  ‘Maab says that the little princess looks just like Sheena.’

  ‘Sheena?’

  ‘The King’s sister, My Lady.’