Page 17 of The Innocent Carrying His Legacy

She was still frowning. ‘So what are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that if you return to Mahassa, you might be in danger from those wanting to use you and the child to get back at me.’

Ivy blinked again. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘There are many things you don’t understand about me,’ he said, because he had to and because she had no idea of what she’d innocently walked into. ‘But one of those things is that I am dangerous to very many powerful people. Many powerful governments. And if they find out that I have a child...’ He didn’t finish, but then, he didn’t need to.

Comprehension flickered over her face. ‘But...why would they...?’ She stopped. ‘So youarea vicious warlord, Mr Al Rasul?’

‘That’s a conversation for another time. Right now, the most important thing for you to know is that by coming here, you’ve put yourself and the child in danger. And it’s imperative that you remain here in the fortress where I can protect you.’

The angry flush began to drain from her face, making the shadows under her eyes look darker. ‘I didn’t mean to,’ she said, cracks in those crystal tones obvious now. ‘I was doing it for Connie’s sake. I would never...’

Nazir straightened, beginning to frown himself now, because she was looking very pale indeed and he didn’t like it. It was one thing to be concerned for a soldier, but it was another thing again to be concerned for the woman carrying his child.

‘Sit down,’ he ordered. ‘Before you fall down.’

‘No.’ Her spine went ramrod straight, her gaze narrowing into a shard of copper-gold metal. ‘Tell me about this danger. How long do I have to stay here for? Because I have a life in England I need to get back to. And the baby. What about him? And my hotel room in Mahassa? My things are still there, my passport is in the safe. What about the consulate? Surely if I leave Inaris and return to England I’ll be safe.’

He waited until she’d finished, conscious of a certain admiration at the sheer stubbornness of her will. She was likely exhausted and in shock and yet was still arguing with him.

‘You will not,’ he said implacably. ‘You will not be safe anywhere but in the fortress. As to the hotel and your things, I’ve sent someone to retrieve them. They’ll be brought back here.’

Her hands moved, nervously smoothing the dusty robes she was still swathed in. ‘But how long for? I have leave for another week and then I have to be back in England.’

Nazir stepped away from the desk, moving over to where she stood, still agitatedly pulling at her robes. Without a word, he gripped her upper arms and, with gentle insistence, moved her over to the chair in front of his desk and then pushed her down into it.

Her eyes went wide and she must have indeed been in some amount of shock, because she didn’t resist or make any protest, just stared up at him, her gaze full of apprehension and, yes, definitely fear.

The chair had arms and so he put his hands on them, caging her in partly to make sure he had her attention and partly so she couldn’t stand up, because once he delivered the next part of his news, she’d definitely need to be sitting down.

Her fine-grained skin was far too pale beneath her sunburn, delicate almost. She was not made for the desert heat, nor was her physical fragility suited to life in his fortress. This English rose would not survive the harsh existence here. Luckily for her, however, he had the equivalent of a greenhouse.

‘Miss Dean,’ he said clearly and not without a certain amount of gentleness. ‘You will have to remain here at the very least until the baby is born. After that, we’ll have to negotiate. You said earlier that all children should be wanted and I agree, they should. And I want this child. But if I’m going to claim it then there are a few things you need to understand. My name is a dangerous thing. It is both a risk and a protection. Nevertheless, I want my child to have it and I want the child’s mother to have it too.’

Ivy stared blankly at him. ‘Your name?’

Nazir could see he was going to have to be a lot clearer.

‘I’m going to marry you,’ he said. ‘And I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.’

Ivy couldn’t understand at first what he was saying. She couldn’t understand what was happening, full stop.

First she’d been ordered back into that awful library and the door had been shut behind her then locked. Then she’d had no choice but to sit there for an hour and a half with absolutely nothing to do. She’d paced around initially, fears and apprehensions chasing around in circles in her head, knowing she was winding herself up and yet not being able to stop it.

She hated not being in control of things, hated having important decisions that involved her being decided by other people. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, and she couldn’t do a thing about it.

Luckily, just before she went totally mad with frustration, the guards had come for her, marching her down a number of long, narrow, echoing hallways, until they’d reached a pair of big double doors with yet another guard standing outside them.

The Sheikh’s office, apparently.

She’d been shown into a large, but spare room, the same stone floor as everywhere else, and bare stone walls. A huge desk sat at one end of the room, the wall behind it covered in a number of beautifully displayed swords, some in scabbards, some out. There were shelves along the walls, lined with books and boxes and other office paraphernalia, while a large meeting table sat off to one side near a window. This window too looked out onto the strange and beautiful greenery of the courtyard and the moment she’d entered the room she’d wanted to go straight to it and stare out at it.

At least until the man behind the desk had risen to his feet and pinned her where she stood with that icy, sharp gaze of his.

She couldn’t go home, he’d told her. She had to stay here. She was in danger and so was the baby.

That had been enough of a shock, but then she’d found herself propelled into the chair she’d tried to refuse, with him standing in front of her, his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning his massive, muscular body over her, making her feel so very small and fragile and somehow disturbingly feminine.

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