Page 13 of The Innocent Carrying His Legacy

Nazir ignored her, turning and striding to the door. He pulled it open and issued some orders to the guards standing outside. One headed straight off across the courtyard to the fortress, while the other came obediently into the guardhouse.

‘You will go with my guard.’ Nazir met her gaze. ‘He’ll escort you to the library.’

‘I’m quite happy here, thank you,’ she insisted.

‘You’ll go where you’re told. Stubbornness for the sake of being contrary is not an attractive trait, Miss Dean. I suggest you rethink it.’

More fascinating little sparks of temper glittered in her eyes, but all she said was, ‘Very well.’

That lurking heat flickered through him, rousing at the slight hint of challenge in her voice. He ignored it. Whatever he decided to do about Miss Ivy Dean and the child she was carrying—his child—he would make the decision the way he made all his decisions: coldly and cleanly and definitely without any input from other body parts.

You would enjoy taking her, though.

Nazir forced the thought fromthatparticular body part away. His own enjoyment was the least of his concerns and he never factored it into any of the decisions he made.

‘You’re not to venture out into the rest of the fortress,’ he added, in case she thought otherwise. ‘You’ll remain where you’re put. Understand?’

She didn’t like that; he could see the irritation in her gaze. ‘Wasn’t I supposed to be safe here?’

‘Oh, you are. But I don’t trust strangers wandering around like tourists.’

Ivy opened her mouth.

‘That’s my final word,’ Nazir said flatly, before she could speak. ‘You would do well to obey me, Miss Dean. You won’t like the consequences otherwise.’

Ivy didn’t particularly want to follow the guard into the Sheikh’s imposing fortress, but she’d been left with little choice. She either went with the guard or...

You won’t like the consequences otherwise...

The echo of the Sheikh’s deep voice rubbed up against her nerve-endings like sandpaper.

She’d dearly wanted to make a fuss but that comment about being stubborn for the sake of being contrary had hit home, making her realise that he’d been right about that, plus a couple of other things she hadn’t wanted him to be right about. Such as the fact that she was still very thirsty and, yes, hungry too. She’d even go so far as to admit that she was also tired.

It was annoying that he’d somehow managed to pick up on those things, especially when she’d been trying very hard not to let even a hint of vulnerability or weakness show. But then he’d told her that she was to stay here, that he couldn’t permit her to leave and...well, that had alarmed her. She’d expected he’d need some time to process the news and had thought that she’d go back to Mahassa and wait a few days for him to decide what he wanted to do. Depending on his answer, she’d then catch a flight back to England after that. She didn’t want to be away too long because the kids in the home needed her and though the person she’d left in charge in her absence was competent, she didn’t care about the details, not like Ivy.

Ignoring the kick of worry, since there was nothing to do be done about it, Ivy followed the guard through the huge double doors of the fortress. Inside it was unexpectedly cool as a result of the insulating effects of thick stone walls and heavy stone floors. The high ceilings too helped. The air was dry, smelling of dust and a strange spice that was oddly pleasant.

The guard’s boots echoed on the flagstone floors as he led her down a series of narrow corridors and into a big, featureless room. A few bookcases stood up against the walls and there were a couple of desks and chairs in the middle. It was spartan, utilitarian, and office-like. It was also spotless.

The guard indicated to one of the chairs in invitation, clicked his heels together, then turned and left without so much as a word, shutting the door after him.

Ivy stood a moment, staring around at the austere space. There was nothing soft about it, nothing comforting. There was nowhere to curl up in with a book or even lounge a little. The chairs were bare wood and clearly designed to be used in conjunction with a desk rather than as a place to rest. The one break in all the hard surfaces and uncomfortable angles was a window set into the thick stone walls that looked out onto some unexpected greenery.

Ivy moved over to it and peered out, surprised to catch a glimpse of a lush garden courtyard, providing a cool visual relief from the dust and hot desert sand. She could even see a fountain playing, the faint sound of it musical despite the thick stone walls.

How strange to find something so beautiful in the middle of a fortress commanded by a notorious desert warlord.

She found her thoughts drifting to the Commander again, to the uncompromising, harsh lines of his face and his astonishing eyes, so clear and so cold. He didn’t seem like a man who would enjoy a garden. He didn’t seem like a man who enjoyed much of anything at all.

What kind of father would he be? A hard one, that was clear. Stern and very strict. He probably didn’t like children—certainly he hadn’t been pleased about her news, though that could have been shock. Did she really want a man like him being involved in the upbringing of Connie’s child? Perhaps it had been a mistake to come here.

He’s still a father, which is more than what you had.

Ivy turned from the window and paced back into the room, disturbed by the track of her own thoughts. Her own situation had nothing to do with this or with him for that matter. What was best for the baby was what counted and if what was best for the baby was to have this hard, stern man in its life then she would have to deal with it.

What if he doesn’t want to be in the child’s life?

Ice collected in her gut. She’d done her best not to think about that, because she didn’t have any answers to that question. Connie had gone downhill very quickly and there had been no time to put in place any back-up plans, not that she had a lot of options. She either put the baby up for adoption or she cared for it herself, and since the thought of putting Connie’s baby up for adoption made her feel cold inside, that left only caring for the baby herself.

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