She knew giving in to his demand that she marry him would ultimately end in tears. Most likely Nadeena’s. And quite possibly her own. In frustration, if nothing else!
CHAPTER SIX
IN THE END it took her an hour to put Nadeena to sleep and when she went looking for Nadir she wasn’t expecting to find him barefoot and shirtless with a dark-haired woman bending over his lap.
The sight shocked her and suddenly a long-lost memory of her fifteen-year-old self flew into her mind. She’d been with a bunch of friends on a school excursion when they had come across her father in a passionate embrace with a woman who wasn’t her mother. The woman’s hands had been in her father’s hair, his hand close to her breast, his mouth devouring hers. Imogen had been stunned. Sickened. The girls with her had giggled nervously and her father hadn’t even looked contrite. He’d scowled at her and asked her why she wasn’t in school. God, she hadn’t remembered that in years.
The woman in the white abaya straightened and Imogen saw she was holding an empty silver tray and a tumbler of Scotch sat on the low table beside the sofa.
Imogen did a double-take when she realised that the woman was a servant who was now retreating from the room. Her mind had put two and two together and come up with ten. Maybe she was more tired than she’d realised...
‘You must be Imogen?’
Whirling around at the sound of a deep male voice, Imogen saw a man bearing a striking resemblance to Nadir standing over by the keyhole windows. He looked tall and imposing in his traditional white robes and matching headdress and Imogen knew that there was no way she would have missed him if she hadn’t been so riveted by the sight of Nadir’s impressive chest.
‘Imogen, this is my brother, Zachim. Zach, this is Imogen.’
Zachim nodded, his eyes glinting amber-gold in the softly lit room as he regarded her. ‘I remember you from the dance hall and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.’
Feeling trapped by her pent-up emotions and unsure what Nadir had told him, Imogen was uncertain as to how to proceed. It seemed highly improper to let rip with the frustration and angst clawing at the inside of her throat and yet she didn’t want to wait till morning to discuss things with Nadir. It seemed important to do so now. ‘I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to interrupt. Perhaps you can let me know when you’re free.’
‘I thought you were going to bed?’
The easy familiarity with which Nadir spoke to her in front of his brother made her instantly defensive. ‘Why—because you told me to?’
‘No. Because you look like you’re about to fall over with exhaustion.’
Imogen glared at Nadir and felt even worse when his brother cleared his throat discreetly from behind her. ‘I think I should leave you both alone.’
‘No, please.’ She was horrified at what he must think of her. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt you.’
Prince Zachim smiled but it was weary. ‘You didn’t. My brother is being his usual obstinate self. Maybe you can talk some sense into him. He won’t listen to me.’
Imogen was about to say that Nadir didn’t listen to her either when he rose from the sofa and the sight of all those hard muscles rippling across his abdomen as he moved made the words fly out of her head.