Prince Nadir's Secret Heir(47)

                ‘No doubt some will.’

                That stung and his ready agreement was like the flick of a knife across a wound that hadn’t quite healed.

                He glanced at her impatiently. ‘But I won’t be King so it doesn’t matter.’

                ‘Why not? Too much responsibility for you?’

                He shoved his hand through his hair and turned it into a sexy mess. ‘Are you trying to annoy me to get me to change my mind about our union    ?’

                ‘Would it work?’

                ‘No.’ His brow quirked with a mixture of frustration and humour. ‘Now, stop with the delaying tactics. Nadeena will be fine and, as beautiful as you undoubtedly are, yesterday’s jeans and T-shirt aren’t going to work tonight.’

                ‘I hate you,’ she said, but the words lacked the heat they had carried the day before and by the way he smiled he knew it.

                ‘I got that memo last night. Now, let’s get this duty over and done with, hmm?’

                Yes, Nadir was all about duty but Imogen knew that duty was a poor motivator that led to anger and neglect and resentment unless it was backed up by something deeper and she feared that was exactly where they were headed if she conceded to his demands.





                                      CHAPTER EIGHT

                ‘KID, THAT’S SOME pitching arm you’ve got on you.’ Nadir leant down and picked up the ball Nadeena had lobbed from her high chair for the millionth time. It was a game she never seemed to tire of. ‘I can see you being a softball star when you’re older.’

                She babbled gleefully when he placed the soft fabric ball back in front of her but, instead of throwing it straight away, she reached towards him with a big grin and tried to grab his keffiyeh. ‘Not that.’ He grinned down at her and pushed his headdress back over his shoulder. ‘I’ve explained that it doesn’t look so good scrunched up by grubby baby hands.’ Redirecting her attention to the ball, he checked his Rolex again and spied the empty doorway.

                If Imogen didn’t show up soon they wouldn’t have time to stop for him to give her the ring that was burning a hole in his pocket and he didn’t want her facing a room full of dignitaries and gossips without it. And somehow it seemed important to solidify things between them. Important to remind her that she was with him now and always would be.

                Their earlier conversation and her look of surprise when she’d asked him if he wanted more—and he’d said no—replayed in his head. For a moment she’d looked so vulnerable that he’d wanted to snatch the words back but there had been enough misunderstanding between them and he didn’t want there to be any more. But he supposed he should have realised that she was a romantic. That she would want love. It still irked him that she had said she didn’t want to marry without it because clearly she didn’t love him and he didn’t love her.

                Which did not mean that their marriage was doomed. He had feelings for her and she might not think great sex was any reason to get married but it was a start and he knew she wasn’t as immune to him as she tried to pretend to be. Hell, that kiss had been proof enough of that, as was the way she held herself so carefully whenever he got close to her.

                Nadeena clapped her chubby hands together with delight when he returned the ball to her yet again. ‘If only your mother was so easily pleased,’ he said softly.

                She blew him a raspberry and he stroked his hand over her silky head. His daughter was a revelation to him—as was the depth of his feelings for her. Which only made him more determined to forge ahead with this marriage. Nadeena would not suffer the division of two parents’ expectations for her the way he and his sister had.