Prince Nadir's Secret Heir Read online

  ‘No need to worry now. I think I spot your boyfriend outside.’

  Heat shot through Imogen’s face and her head came up as for a split second she thought Jenny was referring to the playboy she’d never be able to forget, no matter how much she tried.

  When she caught sight of Minh waving to her through the café window a whoosh of air left her lungs in relief. Boy, but she was jittery all of a sudden.

  ‘I’ve never seen him before,’ Jenny continued. ‘And he looks so gorgeous carrying your little girl in that sling.’ She sighed. ‘I wish I could meet a man who was a looker and also a caring dad.’

  Heart still pumping, Imogen waved to her friend and infant daughter. She guessed Minh was a looker with his exotic Eurasian tanned features and he was certainly one of the nicest men she had ever met in her life but she’d never seen him as anything other than a friend. And not just because he was gay but because Prince Nadir Zaman Al-Darkhan had not only left her with a baby to take care of but he’d also left her with a phobia about falling in love.

  Well, maybe not a phobia, exactly. More a deep resolve to never let a man take advantage of her again. Her own father had taken advantage of her mother’s inherent goodness and it had devastated Imogen to watch her mother make excuse after excuse as to why her father hardly ever spent any time with them.

  ‘Your father works so hard, baby girl—he just needs time to relax, that’s all.’

  Relaxing with another woman and eventually leaving his wife for her? Imogen would never let that happen to her. If she ever attempted another relationship in the future she’d do so with eyes wide open and it would be on her terms and her terms only. A picture of Nadir’s handsome face materialised in her mind and she pushed it away.

  ‘Unfortunately, he’s not my boyfriend.’ Or her baby’s father.

  She threw Jenny a smile and wished her a fab Friday night out on the town before heading towards the back of the bar to grab her handbag and head out to meet her makeshift family.

  Minh had been a godsend in more ways than one this past year. When she’d discovered she was pregnant her roommate, Minh’s sister, had told her that her big brother was heading to America for six months and was looking for someone to housesit. With the lease coming up on their flat in Paris anyway, it had seemed like an opportunity straight out of the heavens and she’d jumped at the opportunity to look after his swanky Knightsbridge pad. But then she probably would have gone to Siberia if it meant getting out of Paris at that time.

  With no close family to fall back on in Australia, she’d anticipated having time in London to lie low and sort herself out before the baby arrived. Unfortunately she hadn’t reckoned on being so sick she could barely move from Minh’s sofa the whole time. When Minh had returned home he’d taken her under his wing and told her she could stay for as long as she needed. He’d even visited her in the hospital right after her precious daughter had come into the world, while no doubt her baby’s father had been wining and dining some supermodel on a tropical island or some such.

  Imogen grimaced. She’d known about Nadir’s reputation as a handsome rebel bad boy from the start and as far as she was concerned you could add irresponsible bastard to that list of seedy qualities as well. And maybe add stupidity to her own because at the time she’d imagined she had fallen in love with him. Fool.

  To say she owed Minh a lot was an understatement. She especially owed him a chance to have his boyfriend move in with him without her and Nadeena cramping their style and she gratefully accepted the tips the barman passed to her on her way out. In another week or two she should have enough to look for her own place but she knew Minh wouldn’t push. He had a heart as big as a mountain.

  ‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he said, kissing her cheek. ‘How was work?’

  ‘Fine.’ She grabbed her smiling daughter out of his arms and planted kisses all over her upturned face. Nadeena stared up at her with Nadir’s striking blue-grey eyes and ebony lashes. His smooth olive complexion. ‘What have you two been up to?’

  ‘I took her to the park and the outdoor café. I hope she’s not smelly,’ Minh said as he untied the baby sling. ‘It’s like holding a hot brick against you in this weather. And they complain London summers are tepid.’

  Imogen laughed. ‘One twenty-eight-degree day and you English are ready to call it quits. The trouble is that you don’t know how to handle the heat.’

  Minh gave her a droll look. ‘The trouble is we don’t want to handle it.’

  Grinning, Imogen took the sling and slid it over her shoulders and settled Nadeena against her, all her earlier feelings of unease completely gone. She linked her arm through Minh’s. ‘You know how much I appreciate your help, right? I mean I can’t thank you enough for babysitting today. Yesterday.’ She made a face. ‘Last week.’

  ‘She’s a darling child and the dodgy film I’m editing is still in the can. Until they call me back I’m a free man.’

  ‘Don’t let David hear you say you’re a free man,’ she teased.

  About to give her some spunky reply, Minh’s jaw fell open and nearly hit the pavement. ‘Hold that thought,’ he breathed in a stage whisper. ‘The archangel of heaven has just landed and he’s wearing Armani and a terrific scowl.’

  Laughing at the theatrics he picked up from working with film stars, Imogen turned and her jaw not only hit the pavement, it continued all the way to Australia.

  The ruthless, heartless bastard who had left her pregnant and alone in Paris was heading towards her, his long, loose-limbed strides eating up the pavement and scattering startled pedestrians like a shark mowing down a school of tuna.

  Imogen’s arms instinctively came up to wrap around a sleepy Nadeena, her mind completely blank.

  Nadir stopped directly in front of her. ‘Hello, Imogen.’ As tall as she was, she still had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes that were currently shielded by aviator sunglasses reflecting her own stunned expression back at her. ‘Remember me?’

  Imogen was in such a state of shock at seeing him after only just thinking about him so vividly all her addled brain could come up with was how impossibly good-looking he was in his black suit. How tousled his midnight hair looked—no doubt from where he had run his fingers through it a hundred times already. Her own immediately itched to do the same thing and she curled them into the soft fabric of Nadeena’s sling, disconcerted by the immediate and compelling effect he still had on her.

  ‘I...of course.’

  She swallowed heavily as his eyes dropped to Nadeena. The glint from his sunglasses made him look like a steely-eyed predator eyeing succulent prey. ‘You had the baby.’

  Something in the way he said that in his deep, smooth baritone that defied geographical distinction made the hairs stand up on the back of Imogen’s neck.

  It was the underlying anger, she decided. Maybe even fury. And for the life of her she couldn’t imagine why he should be so upset. He had left her fourteen months ago so didn’t that mean she had the jump on anger right now? Unfortunately all she could conjure up was paralysed shock.

  Sensing her unease, Minh shifted defensively beside her and Imogen took a deep breath, rallying her scattered senses. ‘Yes.’ She cleared her throat.

  ‘That’s nice.’ Nadir’s smile was all even white teeth and completely lethal. Then he slowly drew off his sunglasses and his shockingly beautiful blue-grey eyes drilled into hers with all the warmth of a glacier. ‘Who’s the father?’

  CHAPTER TWO

  WHO’S THE FATHER?

  Imogen stared at Nadir, slowly digesting his snarled words. She’d only heard him use that tone once before and it was on the phone to some poor sod in his home country and the shock of it kick-started her brain into a usable gear. Steadying her trembling knees, she forced a smile to her lips and thought that of course he would want to know about the baby.
Why wouldn’t he? It was his doctor, after all, who had confirmed her pregnancy that fateful night in his Paris apartment all those months ago.

  God, if she’d only left work five minutes earlier or later this whole situation might have been avoided. She swallowed heavily and forced herself to meet his hard stare, his raised eyebrow that could make him look either wickedly seductive or incredibly foreboding. Today it was definitely foreboding, which didn’t help to explain the electrodes of excitement pulsing through her body, making her both shivery and hot at the same time.

  No, not excitement, she corrected; it was adrenaline. Her fight or flight system was on overload; her reaction could hardly be considered excitement after the way he had treated her. The reminder of that helped calm her down and she gave him a tight smile, a deep sense of self-preservation warning her not to answer his question just yet. ‘It’s a surprise to see you like this.’

  ‘I’m sure it is, habibi. Now answer my question.’

  Swallowing heavily, she raised her chin. He used to whisper that term of endearment to her when he was about to seduce her and God, she wished it wasn’t such an effort to hold those erotic memories of their fleeting time together at bay but it was. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Don’t play games with me, Imogen. I’m not in the mood.’

  A ripple of unease slid down her spine and Minh, obviously sensing Nadir’s ire as much as she could, half stepped in front of her. ‘Ease up there, chief. There’s no need to be aggressive.’

  Nadir slowly turned his razor-sharp gaze to Minh and, although Minh didn’t flinch, Imogen did. Unfortunately Minh had no idea that the infamous rebel prince was Nadeena’s father. Imogen hadn’t told anyone.

  ‘And you are?’ Nadir’s question came out as if he’d just asked Minh if he had any last requests.

  ‘Imogen’s friend.’

  ‘I suggest you back off, Imogen’s friend.’ Nadir’s lip curled into a sneer. ‘This is not your business.’ Then he turned the full force of his attention back to her and Imogen really wished that he hadn’t. ‘Well?’

  How could he make one word sound so powerful?

  ‘Sorry, but I don’t like your attitude, chief.’ Minh puffed out his chest and Imogen groaned. ‘You need to dial it down a little.’

  ‘It’s okay, Minh.’ She gave his arm a squeeze, only just realising that her arm was still linked with his. ‘I know him.’

  Nadir pinned her with a patronising look. ‘That’s putting it mildly, habibi.’

  His meaning was clear and Imogen felt a flush rise up her neck.

  ‘I don’t like him,’ Minh said softly.

  Neither did she but she drew on all her training as a performer and gave him a smile worthy of an award. ‘It’s okay. Really. Why don’t you head home? I can take care of this.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ Minh looked dubious.

  ‘She just said she was, didn’t she?’

  Imogen only just managed to prevent Minh from trying to stand up to Nadir again and patted a sleepy Nadeena, who had grown restless. ‘Go. Really. We’ll be fine.’

  ‘Call me if you need me,’ Minh ordered, reluctantly heading towards Green Park tube station.

  As soon as he was out of sight she let out a relieved breath. One hardcore male was better than two, wasn’t it?

  Reluctantly turning back, she calmed her breathing and faced Nadir. ‘What’s this about, Nadir?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  She tried to pull off a nonchalant shrug but her movements felt stiff and disjointed. He’d walked away from her fourteen months ago so she had no idea. ‘If I knew I wouldn’t ask,’ she countered, slightly annoyed herself now.

  His silvery gaze transmitted how unimpressed he was with her response. ‘How old is she?’

  ‘How do you know she’s a she?’ Imogen hedged.

  ‘I don’t think it’s customary to dress a boy in a pink sunhat.’

  ‘Maybe I’m just bucking the trend.’

  His hissed breath held a wealth of reaching-the-end-of-his-tether impatience. ‘How. Old. Is. She?’

  Completely unprepared for both his anger and his relentless questioning, Imogen was at a loss as to how to follow the advice of her inner voice that warned her to tread cautiously and found herself blurting out the truth. ‘Five months.’

  He rocked back on his heels, his hands going to his waist and pushing his jacket back to reveal his broad chest. ‘Then our affair did result in a child.’

  Their affair? Talk about clarifying how he had felt about her back then... ‘I didn’t say that,’ she retorted forcefully.

  The words came out rushed and his eyebrows shot up. ‘Then you were sleeping with someone else while we were together.’ His voice held the tenor of a wounded bull, which didn’t impress her at all.

  ‘Trust you to take that line of thinking,’ she said scathingly, remembering how he had basically accused her of the same thing their last night together in Paris. ‘And it’s none of your business.’

  ‘If she’s not mine then whose is she?’ His gaze once again narrowed in on Nadeena.

  ‘Mine,’ she countered evenly.

  Nadir’s lips turned up into a snarl. ‘Do you really think you can fob me off with semantics?’

  Imogen felt a dull pain tweak behind her right eyebrow. After the way he had treated the news of her pregnancy, she wanted to know his current motivation before blurting out any more home truths. ‘Look, Nadir—’

  He said something in Arabic, cutting her off, and stepped closer to her, his wide shoulders blocking out all the natural light behind him. Imogen felt the cool glass of the shop window at her back and briefly closed her eyes to try and steady her racing heartbeat, only to snap them open again when Nadir’s voice sounded way too close to her ear. ‘Dammit, you’re not going to faint, are you?’

  Faint? Faint? She stared up at him and then darted her eyes to the side. No, she wasn’t going to faint. But she did want to run. Fast.

  ‘Uh-uh.’ As if reading her thoughts, Nadir shook his head. ‘You’re not going to run again, Imogen, my sweet.’

  Again? What was he talking about—again?

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about but I really need to go. I’m working another shift tonight.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Just so we’re clear, habibi,’ he grated silkily, ‘I have not searched for you for the past fourteen months to be given the runaround now.’

  Imogen immediately felt hot and cold and then hot again and, just like the first time she had laid eyes on him, all the oxygen went out of the air—something that had almost been disastrous at the time as she’d been in the middle of performing the can-can in front of a full house. She’d noticed Nadir watching her almost straight away. He’d been sitting at a small front table with his brother—she’d later found out—but she had only had eyes for Nadir. And he for her, right up until the moment he’d found out she was enceinte.

  As if sensing her distress, Nadeena stirred and shifted against her chest and Imogen tried to calm her nerves, if for no other reason than to keep Nadeena asleep.

  Her first priority was to keep her daughter safe.

  Secure.

  Not that she expected Nadir to hurt her physically. No, what she feared was his power to hurt her emotionally, which was often much worse because most bruises healed while mental scars remained for ever. Imogen knew because she had spent many years trying, and failing, to win her father’s love and she wasn’t about to condemn Nadeena to the same fate.

  A picture of the secret service type in the café came to her on a rush just as she caught sight of him standing a little way off to the side. Had Nadir been looking for her all this time? It seemed impossible.

  Her troubled eyes flew to Nadir and her ripple of unease ratcheted up to dread. ‘Fourteen months? W
hat are you talking about?’

  * * *

  Noting the deep groove between Imogen’s beautiful green eyes, Nadir instantly regretted his emotionally ragged outburst. What he needed to be right now was cool and controlled. Finding her with a child strapped to her body challenged that considerably. As did her evasive attitude, which implied that she had something to hide.

  ‘We will not discuss this any further on the street,’ he decided. Apart from the fact that Imogen looked uncomfortably hot, it was also far too public a place for this type of discussion. ‘Come.’

  ‘No.’

  Haughty as ever, Nadir noted as he turned back to her. He’d been attracted to that regal aspect of her nature when they’d met. Now the trait annoyed him. As did her wide-eyed ingénue look.

  Back when he’d first noticed her she’d seemed different from the other women who had adorned his life from time to time. Less artificial. More sincere. More genuine. Hell, he could laugh at that now. Imogen Reid had turned out to be as genuine as a whore with a hundred euros in her hand.

  He glanced at the baby sleeping in her arms. Everything inside him said that she was his child and he wondered how much longer Imogen would have waited before turning up ‘ta-da’ style on his doorstep and demanding maintenance payments worthy of a queen. Not that it mattered. He had found her and that definitely gave him the upper hand.

  And it mattered even less that her complexion had leached of all colour. These past months of not knowing if she had given birth to the child she had claimed was his, if she was okay, if the baby was okay, hell, if either one of them was even alive had eaten away at him. When she’d sent him a text telling him she had ‘taken care of everything’ he’d assumed she’d terminated the pregnancy. He’d felt sick at the thought but then knowing he’d got her pregnant in the first place hadn’t exactly made him feel like dancing around a room.

  Fatherhood wasn’t something he’d ever contemplated before. Now it seemed that the fates had other ideas and if this woman had kept his child from him...deliberately... Callously...