‘What is it, Imogen?’ His thumb drew light circles across her chin, the gesture more comforting than sexual. ‘What are you thinking?’
The width of his broad shoulders blocking the soldiers from her view established a feeling of intense intimacy between them and it was as if the dinner guests on the other side of the large doorway didn’t exist. ‘Honestly, Nadir, I don’t know what to think.’ She looked up at him and knew that her expression was troubled. ‘I don’t know what to feel or what to do any more. This is all so confusing and unexpected. One minute I’m alone with Nadeena and then... And what we had in Paris.’ She swallowed heavily and his frown deepened. ‘It was so...so...’ She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say that it was so special. That she had counted the minutes from Monday to Friday during that month they had been together and prayed that he would fly in and rap on her front door and kiss her even before he said hello. ‘And now I’m scared because everything feels so broken.’
Broken like her own home life had been. Like her heart had been after he had left Paris and like she feared it would be again if she let her guard down and agreed to marry him.
Nadir cupped her face, gently smoothing his fingers along her jaw line, stroking the velvety skin beneath her earlobes.
‘Imogen, look at me.’ The whispered words were fierce and oh, so close to her ear she could feel his warm breath stirring her hair. She could feel the tips of her breasts pressed lightly against the front of his robes. She stopped breathing as his voice washed over her in deep, melodic waves, her eyes riveted to his as her emotions surged to the surface. ‘Do not be scared. I promise you that I will take care of everything. You...Nadeena. I will protect you and provide for you.’ He tilted her chin up with the tip of his finger when her eyes fell away from his. ‘You will want for nothing, habibi. Not clothing or food or shelter.’ He searched her face. ‘Not diamonds or holidays or palaces. Whatever your heart desires I will give to you. What more is there?’
Love, Imogen thought achingly. Trust. Companionship. Friendship. And while she could see that he meant what he said, she knew that he was unlikely to feel those things for her and she was so afraid that she already did for him.
Imogen looked up and found that his silvery-blue eyes had turned stormy with emotion, dark with desire. His nostrils flared. She felt the change in the taut lines of his body and an answering response immediately swept through her own and made her feel soft and weak.
Force majeure, the French dancers had called him and they weren’t wrong. He was an irresistible power, a force of nature, and Imogen was like a house of straw caught up in the devastating storm of his masculinity. The devastating storm of his self-assurance.
The hand at her hip moved to the small of her back, pressing her so close it was bordering on indecent. Her gaze shifted to his mouth. His lips parted and hers did the same. Would he kiss her? Here? Now?
‘What do you say, Imogen? Will you give us a chance? For Nadeena.’
Imogen felt as if a lead weight had landed inside her chest. He wanted this for their daughter, who bound them together and divided them at the same time. She knew that if she continued to say no it would be beyond selfish because Minh had been right. Nadir did have a right to their daughter and she could either dwell on the past or try to embrace the future.
Feeling as if she was standing on the edge of a precipice with no clear landing over the side, she held out her left hand. ‘Okay, Nadir.’ She swallowed heavily. ‘For Nadeena.’
With only the briefest of hesitations, Nadir took her hand in his and slid the ring into place. Imogen stared at it, cold and heavy on her finger, and willed her heart to stay uninvolved this time.