‘But you’re a dancer—you must be used to being on show in front of people.’
‘Being in a performance is totally different from being myself.’
So he’d been right about the insecurity. He frowned, wanting to reassure her. ‘People like you. You’re a natural. And a waterskier, I understand. How was it that the Prince of Mana knew that you had once won the Australian championships and I had no idea?’
‘Maybe because he asked and you didn’t.’
Nadir scowled. ‘I’m asking now.’
She shrugged. ‘It wasn’t that big a deal. My mother was into waterskiing, which is how I came to do it, but when I was sixteen my ballet teacher told me that I needed to give up all dangerous sports if I was to take the dance seriously and I stopped.’
‘But you loved it,’ he guessed.
Her eyes glowed with an inner light that made them sparkle. ‘The speed was pretty exhilarating.’
He grinned. ‘Something we have in common.’
In Paris he’d been too obsessed with touching her to get to know her properly. Now he realised he wanted both. ‘Have a nightcap with me.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
Nadir walked over to the wet bar and smiled. ‘Have one anyway.’
* * *
Imogen knew that smile. He’d used it often when they’d been out and he’d come up and wrap his arms around her and tell her something, like how tired his feet were from walking or how cold he was and how he really thought they should head indoors. What he’d meant was that they should be in bed. Usually she’d melt against him at that point and he’d hail a cab, her need for him just as overpowering as his was for her.
Even that first night her need for him had eradicated her natural cautiousness around men and overshadowed her commonsense. She closed her eyes in the vain hope that the memories would go away but instead she felt as if she was back in Paris inside his elegant apartment.
The only reason they’d even shut the main door that first night was so he could crush her up against it. After her show he had prowled into the backstage area, his eyes hot with intent. Imogen had quivered with raw excitement, a deep feminine instinct having already warned her that he would come for her. And he had. He’d told her his name and asked her how long it would take her to change. When she’d told him ten minutes to scrub off the stage make-up he’d said, ‘I’ll wait.’
He’d made it sound as if he’d wait for ever. One of the other girls had rushed to lend her a short black dress since she’d only brought her jeans and a T-shirt to change back into and had sighed as if she wished she’d been the chosen one. Heels had materialised and the girls had tittered around her and told her who he was. Imogen hadn’t really taken any notice, her mind buzzing with a sexual excitement she’d never felt before. He had taken her to one of Paris’s exclusive supper clubs in his black Ferrari and been the perfect gentleman while they ate.
Not that she remembered much of the food. Or the conversation, for that matter, but she remembered how his hands had cradled his glass of Scotch as he’d watched her then he’d led her back to his car, his hand hot on the small of her back. He’d asked if she would like to go to his place for coffee. She’d said yes even though she hated coffee; a fact they had laughed at the following morning.
Imogen remembered feeling immeasurably shy and nervous seeing as how it was her first time going home with a man. Her only other lover had been a self-centred dancer who had come on to her after a sweaty but exhilarating rehearsal in her late teens and the rehearsal had been so much better.
Not that she’d told Nadir any of that. She hadn’t known how. To tell him in the car ride to his apartment that she was pretty new to all this would have seemed presumptuous in the extreme and then when they had taken the lift—the very tiny and interminably slow lift—to his floor he hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t said a word to her in fact and nor had she to him, but her body had hummed with a life of its own and a hollow ache had risen up between her thighs with every floor that flashed past.
Finally they’d arrived. Nadir had pushed the door open, Imogen had made to move past him and accidently brushed her bare arm against his. That was all it had taken. One touch of his skin against hers and she had been lost. Gone up in a fireball of heat and need and powerful yearnings that had driven out all sense and caution. She remembered that the door had slammed shut and then thankfully she was up against it as her body had grown too heavy for her legs to hold her up.
Nadir had groaned against her neck, told her how much he wanted her. He’d cupped her face and pushed her hair behind her shoulders. Then he’d taken her mouth with his, ran his hands all over her body, pulled up her too-short dress and ripped her silky panties away. Awestruck, Imogen had been unable to do anything but grab onto his broad shoulders and kiss him back as he’d filled her. His body hot and hard and so powerful as he’d thrust into her. She’d had a moment’s discomfort, which he’d sensed because he’d slowed and the change in pace had pushed her over the edge embarrassingly quickly. She’d cried out. He’d cried out and then they had been meshed together, both panting in the silent, dark hallway. He’d given a self-deprecating laugh, told her it had never been like that for him before and carried her into the bedroom. Ran the tub. Made love to her what felt like a hundred times more throughout the night.
‘What are you thinking about, habibi?’ His deep voice broke into her reverie and she started, her hands pleating the sides of her dress.
She took a deep careful breath in and eased it out. She wasn’t stupid, she knew what he’d been suggesting before and she knew she wasn’t emotionally ready to take that step. Not after a night of having his focus on her as if she was the most important person in the world to him. ‘Nothing.’
He stepped in front of her. His eyes were dark and intense on hers. She wanted to look away because she knew her own must mirror the hunger she saw there but she couldn’t. She was trapped by a desire that was becoming harder and harder to ignore the more time they spent together.
His eyes slid down her body, warming her from the inside out until they stopped on her hands.
‘Where’s your ring?’
All night he’d been at her about the ring, telling her not to fidget with it because then everyone would know that it was new.
‘Everyone would be right,’ she had whispered irritably at the start of the night. ‘And it feels wrong on my finger.’
Of course he’d been annoyed by that. ‘Before you know it you’ll forget it’s even there.’
Just as he would one day forget her and Nadeena were even there? ‘What did you do with it?’ he asked now.
‘I took it off,’ she said with a touch more defiance than she’d meant.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘So you can keep pretending this is not happening, habibi?’
When she didn’t answer, because yes, in some way it was easier to pretend this wasn’t happening, he stalked past her and straight through the doorway into her bedroom.
‘Nadir!’
Worried that he would wake the baby, she ran after him and nearly collided with him in the doorway. Grim-faced, he reached for her left hand and jammed the ring back on her finger. ‘That stays on.’
Supremely irritated with his overbearing attitude, Imogen wrestled with the ring, not sure what she intended to do with it once she got it off, but Nadir grabbed her hands and shoved them behind her back, bringing her body into full contact with his own.
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.’
Again Imogen was momentarily struck dumb by the sight of them together but unfortunately Nadeena didn’t stop crying and it made her hurry into the shower, where she quickly rinsed her hair and washed herself.
Pulling on the oversized T-shirt she had used the night before, she hurried back to her room to find Nadir pacing back and forth and singing what sounded like an Arabic lullaby in his soft baritone.
‘She’s nearly asleep. Should I put her in the cot?’
‘I need to change her first.’
‘I’ve done it already.’
Imogen stared at him. ‘You have?’
‘I’m not completely useless, Imogen. I can change a baby’s nappy.’
Given that Nadir was the most capable man she had ever met, she didn’t know why she had ever doubted he could. Maybe because her father had never shown much interest in his duties as a parent. It made her realise just how low her expectations had been on the night that Nadir had walked out after discovering that she was pregnant. Maybe they had been low all along.
The thought stunned her.
Had she been waiting for him to disappoint her? Fail her? Because he had. Spectacularly so. Which didn’t fit with why he was being so helpful now. Was it to garner her cooperation with his dogged plan for them to marry or because he genuinely cared?
Too many questions and too few answers but Imogen suspected that maybe he wouldn’t change his mind about marrying her and, worse, part of her didn’t want him to. This...she swallowed back a ball of emotion rising inside her chest...this was nice. Sharing the care of Nadeena with him, working together as a team. It was every woman’s wish to have her lover—her partner—around to talk with and iron out the kinks of parenthood. To journey through life hand in hand with someone there to help field the knocks it inevitably handed out. Someone who would care.
But Nadir wasn’t her lover or her partner at this point and her mother’s dating advice had been to warn her that a man could put on a good show for thirty, even forty, days before the cracks started appearing. If you added up their time together in Paris and the last couple of days, Nadir fell smack bang in the middle of her mother’s bell curve. Would he revert to his playboy ways after that and start ignoring them both?
‘Imogen?’
Realising she had spaced out and that she was extremely tired after all the emotion of the last couple of days, she glanced up at him holding Nadeena. She looked so tiny and perfect in his arms.
‘Just...’ She had no idea what she was going to say. ‘She might need a top-up.’
‘A top-up?’
‘A bit more milk.’ Her face flooded with colour as he understood and she thought how ridiculous that she should be embarrassed after all they had shared but she was. ‘I’ll do it in bed. It’s sometimes easier.’
‘But is it safe? What if you fall asleep?’
‘Of course it’s safe,’ Imogen said sharply. ‘I wouldn’t put her at risk, Nadir.’
‘I wasn’t questioning your mothering skills, Imogen, I...oh, hell.’ He rubbed his jaw. ‘This is all new to me. I want you to be safe.’
Imogen’s heart gave a little leap. Not you, she derided the foolish muscle in her chest; he means he wants Nadeena to be safe. ‘I won’t fall asleep,’ she said wearily. ‘You can go.’
Their eyes connected in the dim light and Imogen saw a look come over his face that she couldn’t quite define. If she had to guess she’d say it was as if he was trying to work something out but, whatever it was, it seemed to elude him.
She lay on the bed and waited almost breathlessly
as he leant over and laid Nadeena in the crook of her arm, sleepiness invading her limbs as her daughter latched onto her nipple once again.
‘Your hair is wet,’ he said gruffly.
‘I know.’ Imogen lifted her hand to smooth the damp, irritating strands away from her shoulder and tried not to show her surprise when Nadir’s hands took over the task, smoothing the long strands out on the pillow behind her.
‘It’s fine,’ she said, her breaths shallow and hurried at the intimacy of the moment. ‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘Stop trying to shut me out, Imogen. If you leave your hair like this it will be all tangled in the morning.’
He continued working out the kinks and Imogen decided it was better if she just let him do it. And it felt good. So good.
‘Go to sleep,’ he said gruffly as he perched on the bed behind her. ‘I’ll transfer Nadeena to the cot when she’s finished.’
‘I can...’ Imogen yawned. She wanted to say she could do it but she didn’t. Instead she did something she hadn’t done for months. She fell into a contented sleep before her baby had fully settled.
CHAPTER TEN
NADIR LOOKED DOWN at the woman sleeping on the bed so soundly, her deep breaths even and relaxed. He remembered that she had always slept like the dead and he had often teased her about how hard he’d had to work to wake her through the night. Sometimes he’d even been in the process of kissing her soft body, teasing her awake with caresses that had tortured him and woken her panting. Always when she came awake like that she had wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him closer. Always she had moved with him and he’d angled his body in such a way that he knew would bring her to orgasm in no time. She’d groan in his ear, clasp him tighter, urge him on and then afterwards she’d sigh and curl herself around him, pretty much like she was doing to their daughter right now, and Nadir had the strongest urge to get into bed behind them and do the same thing.
Only he didn’t.
They both looked too peaceful. His heart clenched and he took a step back. He wondered how life had brought him to this point. To this woman and child. Fate?
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