‘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.’
‘You lied to him. That’s why he bowed at my feet.’
‘I didn’t lie. He assumed we were married.’
‘And you let him believe it.’
Nadir’s eyes flashed his frustration. ‘It was better than the alternative.’
‘What? That I was your mistress and had your baby out of wedlock?’
A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘You might not care how Nadeena is perceived in the future, but I do.’
‘Of course I care. You’re just twisting my words to suit yourself but as soon as I see that man again I’m going to correct him.’
‘No, you won’t. I won’t have Nadeena’s name smeared because you can’t see reason.’
‘I can’t see reason?’ So much for her hope that he would use the time on the plane to reconsider his proposition.
He stopped directly in front of her. ‘And, to all intents and purposes, we are married.’
Imogen coughed out a protest. ‘We most certainly are not.’
‘Signing a piece of paper isn’t going to make it any more real, Imogen. You’re going to have to get over whatever reservations you have and get used to it. But we can talk about this later, hmm? It is not a conversation we should be having in front of our daughter.’
‘She doesn’t understand,’ Imogen snapped, fuming because she knew he was right and she should have thought of the same thing herself. Because, although Nadeena couldn’t understand their words, she was soaking up the heightened emotions in the room and that wasn’t good.
Sweeping past Nadir, she gasped as she entered a beautifully appointed bedroom with vast ceilings and long ornate keyhole-shaped windows lined with pale floaty curtains. Deep pink fabric was draped over the elaborate king-sized bed but, other than that, the furnishings wouldn’t have been out of place in any five-star hotel. A freshly made up cot stood beside the bed.