She’d sat there with a secret smile on her face and thought that maybe she’d been wrong to leave Paris so hastily fourteen months ago. That maybe she’d been wrong not to have realised that he would want what was best for her and the baby.
That had been yesterday morning’s thoughts. Now, another day and a half later, Imogen was wishing that she had run further fourteen months ago and that he’d never found her because, apart from a note sent to inform her that he would be in late last night, she hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
It would have been the classical wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am scenario except for the fact that she still had an enormous ring on her finger that she was sure someone would hack off to obtain if she ever ventured out into a public place with it on.
She glanced at it now, wondering why she still wore it.
It wasn’t because she was under any illusion that the man who had given it to her genuinely cared about her. And it definitely wasn’t because she thought he craved her company as much as she stupidly craved his. Not that he’d ever know that was how she felt. No, she might have felt her heart crack open a little when he was touching her, kissing her, making love to her, but his behaviour over the last two days had sealed it back up with more precision than a blowtorch. And to think she’d imagined that she was falling for him all over again. Thank goodness she’d disabused herself of that errant notion.
And yes, on some level she knew she was being unfair to him because of his current issues in Bakaan but she knew he had a reputation for working hard. Working hard and playing hard. So she knew this was just a sign of her life to come and she didn’t like it. He made her feel like an afterthought while she found herself wanting so much more from their relationship. More than he clearly did.
The realisation was emotionally debilitating and if he thought that giving her a couple of extraordinary orgasms would be enough to make her comply with his every wish then he had another thing coming. Especially since she’d had at least a day now to stew over the news that they were to be married at the end of the week.
She doubted she would have taken the news that well if it had come from Nadir, but since it had come from Tasnim asking what style of dress she would like to wear she felt like telling Nadir to go to hell. That she’d been right all along and this was nothing but an enormous mistake they would both live to regret.
A slight noise from behind her had her hackles rising as she recognised the subtle shift in the air that told her it was him. Pride kicked in and fortified her spine. There was no way she would let him know that his actions had hurt her. Determined to be cool and dignified despite her racing heartbeat, she finished off a leisurely stretch and then stood up as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
He walked towards her, his eyes raking over the casual clothing she had found in amongst the clothes he had provided for her. She hadn’t wanted to wear them but then she hadn’t really had any choice. Nadir was garbed in traditional white robes that emphasised his regal bearing and sun-bronzed skin. How a man could make robes look sexy was beyond her, but unfortunately they only seemed to enhance Nadir’s physical perfection rather than detract from it.
He ran a hand through his hair and she realised that he looked tired beneath his natural tan. ‘Where’s Nadeena?’
Of course he would ask after their daughter first. It was why she was even here after all. Stupidly, it hurt.
‘Having a late afternoon nap.’
He nodded. ‘Has she been okay?’
‘Great.’
‘Okay then it’s you.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What’s wrong?’