‘I wasn’t going in the direction of the library,’ she said, her voice sounding a bit shaky despite her attempts to control it. ‘If you could even call that a library. I was trying to find you.’
His expression was like granite. ‘You were ordered not to leave.’
Ivy drew her own dusty robes more tightly around her, the sound of her heartbeat loud in her ears. ‘You said you didn’t want me wandering around like a tourist. Well, I’m not a tourist and I’m not wandering. I wanted to know what was happening.’
‘You disobeyed a direct order.’
Temper gathered inside her, burning sullenly, fuelled by weariness and uncertainty and a fear that had been dogging her since Connie had died. Unable to stop herself, she snapped, ‘I’m not one of your soldiers, Mr Al Rasul, which means I don’t have to obey you.’
If he was angry at her response he gave no sign, his expression remaining stony, and Ivy was seized with the sudden and extremely inappropriate urge to do something really awful, something that would make him angry, something that would make those turquoise eyes glitter with temper and disturb his expressionless mask somehow.
And you used to wonder why no one ever adopted you...
Oh, she knew why. That had become obvious as she’d grown older. She had a temper, a strong will, and hated being told what to do, all of which had been undesirable traits in a child. However, they were more useful as an adult and she’d learned how to harness them to her advantage, especially when it came to protecting the home and the kids she was responsible for.
But unhelpful social workers and government employees were a whole different kettle of fish from granite-faced sheikhs, and if she hadn’t understood that fully in the guardhouse she understood it now as he lifted his gaze from hers, flicking a glance behind her.
‘Escort Miss Dean back to the library.’ His voice was as unyielding as iron. ‘Then lock the door.’
CHAPTER FOUR
ANGERANDWHATcould only be fear flickered across Ivy Dean’s delicate features. It was there in her eyes too, those little veins of gold burning in the copper. But he didn’t care.
He couldn’t have people disobeying his orders regardless of whether they were his soldiers or not, and definitely not in front of his men. Especially not her. Not now he’d decided what he was going to do about her and the child she carried.
He didn’t have to speak—his guards knew what to do—and before the little fury could open her mouth to protest, he’d had them hustle her away down the corridor and back to the library.
It wasn’t a comfortable place for her and he knew that. But he didn’t have very many places in this part of the fortress that were suitable as waiting rooms for pregnant women. She’d be shown to more suitable quarters soon and, besides, he’d had food and drink brought to her and she’d eaten them quickly enough—or so he’d been told by the soldier who’d been watching the library via a security camera.
Just as he’d informed him when she’d opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
That she wouldn’t do as she was told, he’d expected. She’d never be a biddable wife, but a biddable wife wasn’t what he wanted anyway. He’d never thought he’d have a wife at all, not until she’d arrived, announcing that she was pregnant with his child, and everything had changed.
It hadn’t taken him long to make the decision.
After he’d left the guardhouse, he’d gone to his private office, turning a few ideas over in his head, sorting through the options and implications while she’d been eating the cupcakes he’d had his chef make for her. Yet it had only been when she’d opened that door and stepped into the corridor, blatantly disobeying him, that he’d decided. It was a snap decision and snap decisions were to be viewed with mistrust in the normal scheme of things, but not this time.
He couldn’t have her wandering around the fortress, nor could he have her wandering around Inaris. Once word got out—and it would—that she was expecting his child, his enemies would close in. Certainly the Sultan would have something to say about it and once he knew then the danger to both Ivy and the child would increase exponentially.
Even in England they wouldn’t be safe. They wouldn’t be safe anywhere except here, where he had an entire army to protect them.
So, he couldn’t let her go. She and the child would have to stay here with him. And, in order to leave no loopholes by which his enemies could harm her, the child or him, he’d have to marry her.
It wasn’t only to protect his child legally; there were other factors involved. Growing up as the product of his father’s affair with the Sultan’s wife hadn’t been easy. His connection to the Sultana had had to remain a secret so as not to risk exposing her to her husband’s wrath. The Sultan had been a cold, cruel man and Nazir hadn’t blamed his mother for seeking companionship in the arms of another. She’d managed to hide her pregnancy from the Sultan as it had progressed through artful clothing choices and aided by the fact that she didn’t show. Eventually she’d gone on a month long ‘holiday’ to have her baby in secret, accompanied by a trusted maid who was the only other person apart from his father who’d known what was going on. His birth had been a mistake though, and he’d felt the burden of that growing up.
He was a living, breathing reminder of his mother’s infidelity, a constant threat to her position. It had been a pressure that he wouldn’t wish on any child, especially his own, and, even though the circumstances here were different, he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.
This child would be acknowledged. And he or she would have both parents.
The little fury might have something to say about it, naturally, but her personal feelings on the subject were irrelevant. She’d have to put them aside for the safety of the child, and given that she was also protective of said child—he hadn’t missed those little gestures with her hand—he was certain she’d see the logic of it.
But several things had to be made ready first, before he informed her of his decision.
Nazir strode back to his office and called an emergency meeting with several of his top aides as well as the manager of the fortress staff. Various orders were given. His second-in-command, an ex-Navy SEAL from California, raised an eyebrow at the announcement, but no one questioned him. No one would dare. This was a private matter and it concerned no one else but him.
Once the necessary plans were put in place, Nazir ordered Ivy to be brought to his office. He’d debated on how best to tell her, but, since she wasn’t likely to be pleased no matter how he delivered the news, getting straight to the point was the easiest.
She’d also need some time to come to terms with it, which he would give her, though he wouldn’t brook a refusal, not given what was at stake. Nor could he let her leave. That would no doubt be a problem for her, but he wasn’t changing his mind.