Prince Nadir's Secret Heir. Michelle ConderЧитать онлайн книгу.
months to be given the runaround now’—and his personal bodyguard waiting for his arrival came back to her and clicked into place in her mind and confused her even more. ‘Benson.’
There was only the briefest of pauses before he roared, ‘You gave me a false name!’
Imogen pressed back against the seat of the sofa. ‘No.’ Well, not intentionally. ‘Reid was my mother’s maiden name and...’ She swallowed, hating herself for explaining but compelled to do so by the fury she read in his eyes. ‘It wasn’t deliberate. The girls suggested that I use a stage name because they sometimes had trouble with the clientele and you only asked me my name one time.’ She took a quick breath. ‘At the beginning.’
He stabbed a hand through his hair and paced across the room like an animal trapped in a too-narrow cage. ‘And your mobile phone number?’
‘What about it?’
‘You changed it.’
‘I lost it...well, it was stolen my first day in London. I just use a pay-as-you-go now.’
He swore under his breath, a ferocious sound.
‘What’s this about, Nadir? As I recall you were the one who left town the morning after you found out I was pregnant. Are you now saying you tried to contact me?’ She tried to stifle a small thrill inside, wondering if perhaps he had been worried about her. That perhaps he had cared for her after all... Another more skeptical voice reminded her of the horrible text he’d sent her but still some deeply buried hope wriggled its way to the surface.
‘I had an emergency in New York and by the time I got back to Paris you had disappeared as if you’d never existed,’ Nadir grated. ‘The Ottoman Empire would have benefited from your stealth.’
Resenting his sarcasm, she stiffened. ‘I did not disappear. I left.’
‘Without a trace. No one had any idea where you had gone.’
That was most likely because the only person who knew had been Minh’s sister, Caro, and she had been leaving to go travelling at the same time. Imogen had meant to keep in touch with some of the other girls but she hadn’t counted on feeling sick and sorry for herself during her pregnancy and she hadn’t had time since then.
‘Nor did you give your employer a forwarding address or email.’
‘I didn’t?’ She blinked. ‘I wasn’t exactly thinking straight at the time.’ And since her pay went directly into her bank account, she hadn’t even realised. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t check my bank records.’
His look said that he had. ‘False names tend to hinder that kind of search.’
‘I told you that wasn’t deliberate.’ She took a deep breath and tried to keep a lid on her emotions so she could think rationally. ‘Why were you looking for me, anyway?’
‘Because before you ran you were supposedly pregnant with my child.’
‘I did not run,’ she bit out tensely. ‘Why would I when you had made it abundantly clear you didn’t want anything to do with me any more?’
She heard the challenge in her voice and knew it was because some part of her was hoping he would refute her statement.
‘I texted you from New York.’
Her top lip curled with distaste. That horrible text was still etched into her brain as if it had been carved there. ‘Oh, please,’ she scoffed, ‘let’s not talk about your lovely text.’
‘Or your response,’ he grated. ‘Telling me that you had taken care of everything.’
Imogen tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, careful not to awaken Nadeena, who had dropped into another exhausted sleep. ‘I did take care of it,’ she said softly, her arms tightening around Nadeena.
‘Yes, but not in the way I expected.’
Hoped, his tone seemed to imply. And there was the reason he’d been looking for her. He’d wanted to make sure she’d done what he expected.
Imogen felt that small spark of hope that she’d been wrong about him completely wither and die and she felt angry with herself for succumbing to it in the first place. Had she not learned anything from his treatment of her in the past?
Caro’s words of warning came back to her. ‘Be careful, Imogen. Any man who takes off like that without a word and accuses you of sleeping around is likely to insist on an abortion if he ever comes back.’ At the time Imogen had thought her friend had been overreacting. Now she knew that she hadn’t been and she felt physically ill.
‘And now you’ll have to deal with the consequences,’ he grated, staring at her as if she was somehow to blame for everything that was wrong in the world.
IMOGEN LAPSED INTO a horrified silence, focusing on her daughter instead of the sick feeling swirling in the pit of her stomach.
Quite honestly she had never expected to see Nadir again and she really wished she hadn’t. But at least he’d well and truly put paid to those times she’d wondered if she shouldn’t contact him and let him know that his child had been born. Put paid to those silly girlish fantasies that he would one day ride in on a big white horse and offer her undying love.
Yeah, right. Probably she’d listened to way too many love songs while she had been incapacitated on Minh’s sofa and possibly watched way too much day time TV.
But at least that whole time hadn’t been a complete waste. She’d used it to plan out her and her baby’s future and decided to follow a long-held dream and teach dance. She’d even taken a short online business course. She had a vision that when she had enough money she and Nadeena would move to a mid-sized town where she could open a studio. Nadeena would rush home after school and if she wanted to she could dance; if not, she could sit and do homework or read. Then they would go home together and chat while Imogen cooked dinner and at night...at night...she hadn’t really thought about the nights. Her imagination had only gone so far as to envision her and Nadeena as a tight-knit unit.
The two of them happy and contented.
And when Nadeena asked about her father, as she surely would one day, Imogen hadn’t quite worked out what she was going to tell her. She didn’t want to lie to her but nor did she want Nadeena to know that her father had never wanted her. She glanced at Nadir standing by the window, his broad back to her as if he couldn’t stand to look at her. Well, that was fine with her. She couldn’t stand to look at him either.
Careful not to waken Nadeena, she eased herself off the sofa, not as easy as it looked since it was one of those squishy ones designed for long afternoons lazing about, and cradled Nadeena in her arms.
Hearing her, Nadir turned towards her and she hastily pulled her T-shirt back into place.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Imogen raised her chin at his surly tone. ‘Home.’
‘To that buffoon you were with earlier?’
It took her a beat to realise he was referring to Minh but she wasn’t about to get into another lengthy discussion with him and, although it was illogical, her gut warned her that if she answered his question honestly he’d never let her leave. And that was exactly what she was about to do. ‘You have no right to ask me that. But I am curious as to why you brought me up here. It seems like a waste of your time and mine.’
His eyes held hers and he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Is he your current lover?’
Chilled, Imogen cuddled Nadeena closer. ‘You answer my questions and I’ll answer yours.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Nadir’s voice, his stance—heck, his very demeanour—had turned alert with predatory