Prince Nadir's Secret Heir(55)

                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.’