Prince Nadir's Secret Heir(64)

                She kept her expression bland. ‘What could possibly be wrong?’

                * * *

                Nadir didn’t know, but something was. He’d spent the last two days meeting with members of the UAE to determine Bakaan’s future membership into the federation and he was exhausted. It had been a frustrating endeavour because his father had never been interested in political or economic alliances and instead had treated Bakaan as a lone wolf. Naturally enough that made some of the members of the federation highly suspicious of what Bakaan’s intentions were and what the benefit was in including them into the federation at all. When he had explained his and Zach’s vision of the future—drawn up and refined over many years and many lagers—he’d had a breakthrough and all but one had signed the new treaty.

                Reform would be slow, he knew, and arduous but intensely satisfying once it started to take effect. And it was also supposed to be Zach’s job—not his. Zach, who had still not returned any of his phone calls.

                Now Nadir was supposed to travel to Sur, a Northern city, and present the terms of the agreement to the outer tribal elders who still held a lot of influence in certain sectors of Bakaan.

                First, though, he’d wanted to stop off and see Imogen and Nadeena. He’d been frustrated the past two days that he hadn’t been able to see them at all but the federation members had been due to leave and Nadir had needed to strike while the iron was hot. When he’d returned to his suite late last night, even though he’d sent a note telling Imogen when he would finish up, he’d been disappointed to find her already in bed. And not his. After their lovemaking two nights ago he’d assumed that things between them would improve. Seeing the look on her face now, he knew that had been an erroneous assumption.

                He stepped closer to her and she stepped back. His smile turned wry and he deliberately kept his gaze above her neck or he knew he wouldn’t give a damn about finding out what was wrong and fix it in his own way. ‘I don’t know, Imogen. But something is.’

                She shrugged and he gritted his teeth. The wall was back up between them and she’d added a couple of bricks for good measure. Did she really find the idea of being tied to him so hateful? Or was it something else? Her London lover, perhaps?

                He tried to cap his instant irritation at the thought of them living together and reminded himself that the buffoon was part of her past and she was as entitled to one as much as he was. Unfortunately, it didn’t help. ‘Did you get my message last night?’

                She tossed her head in a feminine challenge and her wheat-blonde braid swished over her shoulder like the tail of an angry cat. ‘I did.’

                ‘But you ignored it.’

                ‘I was tired.’

                Not much he could say to that since the reason she was most likely tired was because he’d kept her up most of the previous night making love to her.

                ‘And what would have been the point in waiting up anyway?’

                Now there was a lot he could say to that and he barely resisted the urge to just pull her into his arms and show her. ‘I would have thought after the night we spent together you wouldn’t need to ask that.’

                She shrugged again. ‘We were two people letting off steam. It meant—’

                ‘Do not say nothing, Imogen.’ His jaw clenched tight. ‘Not unless you want me to set about proving just how much it did mean.’

                Her eyes flashed and it looked like she bit her tongue. ‘Did you come here for a reason? Has your brother returned?’