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Prince Nadir's Secret Heir(67)

By:Michelle Conder


                She leant closer to him so that she could be heard above the music and revelry of the excited audience, her lips so close to his ear he could feel her warm breath. ‘What’s that instrument?’

                Nadir turned his head, his gaze snagging with hers, their mouths inches apart. He thought about kissing her but knew he couldn’t. Public displays of affection were currently considered a crime in Bakaan. Instead he inhaled her fragrance and reminded himself that he was a man reputed to have wonderful self-control. ‘Which one?’

                She swivelled her head and pointed towards a group of musicians and he breathed in her tantalising scent.

                ‘The one across that man’s lap that looks like a harp.’

                ‘A qanun.’

                She smiled up at him. ‘It’s beautiful.’

                No, she was beautiful and he wondered how it was possible for his heart to feel so light when Zach’s continued lack of contact was starting to worry him and insurgents were right now threatening to disrupt industry in the north.

                She tapped her feet in time with the music and the lead dancer noticed. With a smile on her face she headed their way and Nadir knew what was coming.

                ‘Would the new Sheikha like to join in the line-up?’

                Imogen’s face lit up and she said, ‘Shukran,’ which impressed everyone within earshot, and joined them.

                The audience cheered when they realised what was going on and the female dancers surrounded Imogen, much to Bjorn’s consternation, and wound shimmering skeins of fabric around her to match their own costumes.

                She stood with her feet together, toes turned out and he grinned as he remembered the time he had teased her about looking like a duck. She’d quacked and told him that after years of dancing she couldn’t help it. He’d kissed her and told her he loved it. He still did.

                Missing a step, she laughed and delighted the other dancers with her unaffected nature and he tensed as he wondered how any man looking at her could fail to want her as much as he did. Immediately following that thought was the one that said he should bundle her up right now and take her back to the palace. Back to his bed.

                Only the dance had started and he couldn’t turn away from her as she mastered the routine. His gut tightened and then the dance changed and the men joined in.

                They looked at him with an air of hope rather than expectancy because, of course, his father had never mixed with his people like this, preferring to rule from the lofty heights of the palace walls. If he were to take the job he wouldn’t rule that way and neither would Zach.

                And then he realised what dance they were about to perform. It was the dance a man did when he was courting a woman and his instinct was to beg off but then he caught Imogen’s eyes, her swaying figure. To hell with it. He moved to stand opposite her. He had never performed it before but he had seen it done many times as a boy. She looked up at him with a shy expression. Did she know what this performance represented? That it signified undying love?

                His steps faltered as he circled her. Was that what he was feeling? Love? He immediately discarded the idea. He’d never wanted to find love in his life because—as he’d learned from first-hand experience—deep emotion brought even deeper mistakes and he liked his mind clear and sharp. Not that it was exactly clear or sharp right now but that was just lust and lust could be sated.

                Imogen’s words about how she only wanted to marry for love came back to him. What would it be like to have hers? Something tightened in his chest. He didn’t want that from her. It was enough that they were compatible in bed. That they enjoyed each other’s company. He stepped closer to her than he should have. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he growled in her ear.