time to stop playing his games—if he was actually staying away on purpose—and get back here. And on the off-chance he was still holding out on him in a week then they would marry. It wasn’t any big deal because it was going to happen, one way or another.
* * *
‘I’m sorry—who did you say you were?’
Imogen placed Nadeena in the baby recliner beside the beautifully paved swimming pool and fastened the safety catch, the fronds of the palm trees overhead keeping the scorching sun from burning her. When she was done she turned to the two women standing in the open doorway. One was young and striking-looking in the traditional cream-coloured outfit that denoted the palace servants and the other woman was much older and dressed in faded black garments. And her eyes were transfixed by Nadeena.
‘My name is Tasnim and this is Maab,’ the younger one said with a wide smile ‘We are your servants, My Lady.’
‘Oh.’ Imogen smiled kindly. Used to fending for herself and preferring it that way, she had no need for servants. ‘Thank you, but—’
Before she could say anything, Maab had moved closer to Nadeena and was crooning something in Arabic. As if sensing Imogen’s regard, she turned and bowed her head, speaking in rapid Bakaani.
‘I’m sorry,’ Imogen said, ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Please excuse Maab, My Lady. She does not speak very much English but she is excellent with babies and helped raise the royal siblings when they were little. She is asking if she might approach the little princess.’
‘Well, of course she can.’ Imogen smiled encouragingly and the old woman knelt down in front of Nadeena and gasped in surprise. She started spouting the name Sheena and smiling broadly.
Confused, Imogen turned to Tasnim for clarification.
‘Maab says that the little princess looks just like Sheena.’
‘Sheena?’
‘The King’s sister, My Lady.’
‘Oh, Nadir’s aunt? That’s nice.’
Tasnim gave her a funny look. ‘No, My Lady, she means King Nadir’s sister.’
Imogen was silent for a moment as she processed that piece of information. She’d never heard of Nadir having a sister but that wasn’t surprising, really. Their short relationship in Paris hadn’t progressed past the intensely sexual phase and, whether by accident or design, neither of them had wasted their time talking about family or personal history. For Imogen that had been deliberate. She hadn’t wanted to talk about her mother’s recent death and her father’s remarriage a month later. Had Nadir chosen not to speak about his past because he was upset by it as well?
‘The King has asked me to help you prepare for the evening ahead. Would you like to do that now, My Lady?’
The evening ahead? Feeling as if her life was once again spinning out of her control and not wanting to look like a complete dill, Imogen kept her expression bland. ‘By King you mean...Nadir?’
‘Na’am, My Lady. Yes.’
A sudden sense of unease fluttered up from her stomach. Nadir couldn’t be King because if he was that would mean they were going to be here for a little longer than a day, but if he wasn’t then why were these women even here?
‘I think there must be some mistake,’ she began slowly and then Zach’s words jumped into her head from the night before.
It’s your birthright.
Was Nadir here to discuss some sort of succession planning? She hadn’t contemplated that and perhaps he would expect her to meet his father. She nearly grimaced. It was one thing to meet his brother but if his father was anything like her own then he was unlikely to approve of her.
Maab started saying something again in Arabic and there was a hint of pride in her voice.
‘Maab says that we are delighted that he has come back, My Lady. That King Nadir will be a great king because he was a great boy. Kind and loyal and very strong.’
Imogen had no doubt that Nadir had been strong but she wasn’t so sure about the kind and loyal part. Ruthless and self-serving? Now that she would have believed in an instant and she wasn’t sure how she felt hearing this woman’s hero worship of a man she was convinced was set on doing the right thing because of a guilty conscience rather than a good one.
‘That’s lovely,’ she murmured.
Tasnim nodded. ‘She was very sad to think that Nadir would not return after the death of his father.’
‘The death of his father?’
Tasnim gave her another funny look and Imogen’s pride kicked in. ‘Oh, yes, the death of his father.’
What the heck was going on here?
‘It has been a troubling two weeks for those of us working in the palace,’ Tasnim continued. ‘And not knowing what would happen...but I’m sorry, My Lady, you don’t want to hear all this.’
Not want to hear it? Imogen wanted to hear that and more. She could hardly believe what Tasnim had said so far. Had Nadir’s father truly died two weeks ago? And what did that mean? Was Nadir going to be King? Did he expect Imogen to move to Bakaan? The whole concept was totally implausible and she could feel panic threatening. She needed to speak to Nadir to sort this out. Right now.
Giving Tasnim what she hoped was a benign smile, she said, ‘Thank you, Tasnim. Would you mind telling my husband that I don’t need any help and I’d really like to see him?’
‘Your wish is my command, habibi.’
Swinging around at the sound of Nadir’s voice, Imogen’s jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of him dressed in flowing black robes that made him look like a pirate. Absurd excitement gripped her and rational thought was whisked away on the light, hot breeze.
And she wasn’t the only female affected by the sight of him because Maab rushed to her feet with the agility of a woman half her age and threw herself on the ground in front of him.
‘Maab.’ Nadir raised the woman and hugged her tightly, speaking to her in his native language, his tone warm and deep. Tears sparkled in the old woman’s eyes and, seeing it, Imogen felt tears as well; her emotions much closer to the surface since her daughter had been born.
She wasn’t sure what Nadir had said to the women but moments later they had bowed low to them both and disappeared as quickly as they had arrived.
Nadir’s gaze swept over her and a small frown of disapproval immediately knitted his brow. ‘Why aren’t you wearing the clothing I provided?’
Tense and uncertain after what she’d just heard, Imogen was in no mood to talk about fashion. ‘Forget the clothing. Why did you lie to me?’
‘I did not lie to you. I have never lied to you.’
‘You told me we would be
