The Sheikh didn’t move. He stood in front of her, immovable as a granite cliff. His gaze was like a searchlight, the impossible turquoise depths as icy as a glacial lake. ‘Did I say you could leave?’
Ivy stiffened. ‘No, but—’
‘Because if you think I am going to let you walk away with my child, you are very much mistaken, Miss Dean.’
CHAPTER THREE
IVYHADGONERIGID, outrage flickering in her coppery eyes, giving them a fascinating, smoky gold tinge. Like the very good Scotch whisky he sometimes allowed himself to indulge in after a particularly difficult operation.
Of course, she wasn’t pleased at this development. He didn’t expect her to be. But then her feelings in the matter were irrelevant.
She’d chosen to come and find him—a difficult endeavour for many far more experienced than she was, let alone one young and pregnant Englishwoman—and if she thought he wasn’t going to be interested then she was wrong.
As he’d stood there listening to her explanation for how she’d ended up as a surrogate for her friend, and he’d watched her hand creep over the little bump of her stomach, he’d been conscious of a strange, almost territorial possessiveness winding through him.
His father had been clear: Nazir was not permitted children. And yes, when he’d been younger he’d resented that, especially since there were already so many rules regarding his behaviour. It was only later, after he’d ruined everything, that he’d understood his father hadn’t been just imposing arbitrary rules. It wasn’t only a cultural tradition that a royal bastard couldn’t sire children, it also made for a better soldier. Emotional ties were weaknesses a commander couldn’t afford and it was better to limit them.
So Nazir, having just learned that lesson and painfully, had accepted his fate. Accepted that though there were no strictures on a marriage, he could never have a son or daughter of his own.
He’d decided in the end that marriage wouldn’t be for him, either. His father, who’d once been Commander of the Sultan’s army, had shown him his path and so he’d followed it, pouring his energy into life as a soldier instead. His father’s banishment and his own existence had meant he’d never have a position in Inaris’s army. So, after his father’s death, Nazir had created his own, building a small but powerful military force that many governments and numerous private interests engaged for ‘strategic purposes’.
He had rules, naturally. He wouldn’t hire out his force or his own impressive military leadership for coups or for the destabilisation of peaceful countries. He refused to be bought by dictators or those wanting to use his army to hurt innocent civilians, or by criminals wanting to protect their own interests.
He had a strict moral code and expected all his soldiers to follow it.
An ‘ethical mercenary’, some of the media called him. He didn’t care. He funnelled cash back into his army and the rest into Inaris, and even though he had nothing to do with his half-brother the Sultan, or the palace in general, in certain circles he was known as the power behind the throne, much to his half-brother’s annoyance.
But Fahad didn’t dare touch him. Nazir was too powerful.
However, a child changed things.Hischild, to be exact. His forbidden child...
The unfamiliar thread of possessiveness had tightened as one thing began to become progressively clearer to him. He’d never expected to have children. He’d thought that throw of the dice back in Cambridge had been his one and only contribution to the gene pool. But fate clearly had other plans for him, and since he’d never been a man to overlook an opportunity when one fell straight into his lap, he wouldn’t now.
He’d have to think through the implications, obviously, but one thing was clear: she was going to have to stay here.
‘What do you mean you’re not going to let me leave?’ she demanded, fascinating golden sparks glittering in her eyes.
‘Surely my meaning is evident.’
‘But I—’
‘But you what?’ He held her gaze. ‘You’re moderately dehydrated and very sunburned. Your guide has gone. How do you suppose you’re going to get back to Mahassa on your own?’
‘Well, if you would—’
‘Difficult enough for a woman who wasn’t pregnant, let alone one who is. And no, I’m not going to give you one of my men to take you back.’
‘You could—’
‘You’re also expecting my child and, since you came here with the express purpose of gauging my interest in fatherhood, I’ve decided that, yes, I would be interested. But I’m also going to need some time to think about what form that interest might take since it wasn’t something I was anticipating.’
‘I can’t—’
‘In the meantime, you’ll stay here until I’ve decided what to do—’
‘Let me speak!’ The words exploded out of her, the golden sparks in her eyes glittering like a bonfire. Her fine-grained skin was very red from the sunburn and now it turned even redder. She looked furious.
Nazir found the tightening possessiveness turning into something else, something disturbingly raw. He was a soldier. He liked a fight. He liked being challenged, and he liked overcoming said challenge. It was a trait that extended into the bedroom too, which was why he liked strong women, both physically and temperamentally. Especially ones that stood up to him.