Her pretty mouth pursed in displeasure at having that thrown back at her. Then she sniffed. ‘Very well.’
She slipped off the camp bed and stood up, only to sway a little, suddenly unsteady on her feet. It seemed that regardless of whether she’d been faking that faint or not, the wait outside in the hot sun hadn’t been kind to her.
The boy he’d once been would have been concerned about that, but the man had no room in his heart for concern. So it came as somewhat of a surprise to him that he found himself reaching forward to take her elbow to steady her.
She gave a soft little intake of breath and froze like a gazelle under the paw of a lion. The sound of her gasp echoed in the small room and he felt it echo inside him, too. She felt very warm and, despite the sharp angles of her face, very soft.
It’s been years since you’ve had soft... A lifetime...
Disturbed by his reaction, Nazir let her go. Strange to find himself...affected in such a way. He had perfect control over himself and his impulses and he wasn’t accustomed to having a physical reaction he wasn’t in complete command over.
Perhaps it was simply weariness. He really did need some sleep.
Ivy moved away from him very quickly, as if she couldn’t wait to put some distance between them, heading for the battered leather bag that sat against the desk in the corner. She must have been carrying it with her when they’d brought her in.
She moved over to it, the dirty white robe pooling around her as she bent to pick it up, rummaging around for something inside it. A moment later, she pulled out a sheaf of papers that she turned and brandished at him.
‘Here,’ she said, her voice light and sweet with a distinct undercurrent of iron. ‘Your proof.’
Nazir took the papers and glanced down at them.
On the top was a printout from a fertility clinic in England and on it, in very clear black and white, were his physical and personal details, including his name. There was also a set of paternity test results, and what looked to be a personal note in shaky handwriting.
Ice gripped him.
It had been a long time ago, when he’d had those three years at Cambridge University. Away from his father’s iron grip, away from the palace and its rules and strictures. He hadn’t wanted to go initially, because he’d known he was being given a punishment, not freedom, yet his father had been insistent. He’d had no choice but to go. So he had, deciding that if it was a punishment, then it was a punishment he’d enjoy the hell out of. He’d been eighteen and full of passion, determined to take life by the throat and experience everything he could, and that was exactly what he’d done.
He’d always known he’d never be a father, that a family life wasn’t possible for him. As the bastard son of the Sultana—the secret bastard son—he couldn’t be allowed to further taint the royal line with offspring.
That had burned, even back then, even when he’d been too young for a family. So one night, drunk with some of his friends and making stupid bets over poker, he’d lost a bet that had involved sperm donation. They’d only been boys, unthinking and stupid, but even then a part of him had felt a certain savage pleasure. That somewhere there’d be a child of his despite all the rules his father had set.
Then he’d returned to Inaris and, in the aftermath of everything that had happened, he’d forgotten about it.
Until now.
There was no disputing the facts. The evidence was clear in the papers he held, and even if there had been a chance that they’d been forged, he knew they hadn’t been.
He knew the truth.
Carefully, Nazir folded up the papers and put them into the pocket of his combat trousers. The woman opened her mouth to protest, but then took one look at his face and shut it again.
A wise decision.
‘Sit,’ he ordered tersely.
She didn’t protest that either, moving to the chair at the watch station and sitting down.
‘Explain,’ Nazir commanded. ‘Leave out nothing.’
She took a breath, her small pink tongue coming out and touching her lower lip briefly. He found himself watching it for no good reason.
‘I need some water first,’ she said, apparently not understanding that his tone meant he was to be obeyed and immediately.
‘No,’ he said.
One straight brow arched. ‘Excuse me? I was forced to stand outside your gates in the desert heat, with no shade or water—’
‘I don’t care.’