The Innocent Carrying His Legacy by Jackie Ashenden
CHAPTER NINE
NAZIRHADN’TEXPECTEDto tell Ivy everything that had happened with his mother. He’d meant to answer her question about why he’d been sent to Cambridge then carry her under the waterfall and kiss that sweet mouth of hers.
But there had been something in the way she’d wrapped her arms around him, something in the feel of her silky bare skin against his, the slight crease between her brows and the steadfast look in her coppery eyes.
And he’d found himself saying much more than he’d intended. More than he’d ever told anyone. He hadn’t expected to let the longing he’d always felt come to the surface, nor the anger that came along with it. The anger and jealousy and sorrow he’d thought he’d got rid of years ago, and beneath that a shame he’d never accepted.
Which wasn’t a good thing. He couldn’t let those emotions cloud his thinking the way they had all those years ago, not with what was at stake. Ivy and his child had to be protected at all costs, and most especially from him.
His loss of control had destroyed the family he’d almost had and his mother...
Eventually he’d found out what had happened to her. After her affair had been discovered, the Sultan had banished her from the country for the rest of her life. She’d died in Switzerland, never to see either of her sons or the man she loved ever again.
That was his fault. If he hadn’t lost his temper, if he hadn’t attacked Fahad, then everything might have been different. But he had, and there was nothing he could do to change that or what had happened to his mother. The only thing he could do was stay in command of himself and ensure nothing like that ever happened again.
It was an easy enough task, especially when, over the course of the next few days, Ivy stopped being stubborn and challenging. She stopped fighting him, stopped protesting. Her no-nonsense armour was nowhere to be seen, letting the woman she was underneath bloom like a flower in the sun.
And what a woman she was. Warm and vital and interested. Caring and curious.
Like himself, she wasn’t much for lying around, and so he took her on a few gentle horseback rides along some of the mountain trails, showing her the pretty valleys and views that could be had from the higher outlooks. He taught her how to swim in the warm water of the hot springs and then, afterwards, taught her how to pleasure him even at the same time as he explored all the ways to pleasure her.
They had meals by candlelight on the terraces and by the pool, and once or twice in some of the prettier valleys near his residence, where they discussed various subjects, including how a marriage would work between them, how and where they would raise the child together.
Ivy had no trouble disagreeing with him on a few points, but it was soon clear that they both believed very strongly that the child needed both parents and a safe, secure base in which to grow up.
‘And what about me?’ Ivy asked as they sat by the pool one night, the braziers lit, sending flickering light over the waterfall that fell into it. ‘I need more to my life than raising a child. Not that that isn’t a vitally important job, but I need something else.’
Nazir glanced over the low table to where Ivy sat cross-legged on a cushion opposite him. Her hair was loose tonight, the way he preferred it, tumbling over her shoulders in a wild, gleaming fall of chestnut. All she wore was a light, diaphanous robe of deep red silk embroidered with gold that he’d ordered especially for her. It was a rich, beautiful fabric that made her pale skin glow and brought colour to her pretty face. The metallic thread made her eyes seem even more coppery in the light and, as an added bonus, it was a little transparent, allowing him to catch glimpses of the glory that was her naked body.
At first she’d been uncomfortable wearing it with nothing on underneath, but once he’d shown her how much it pleased him to see her wearing it, she’d relaxed, and now she didn’t even seem to think twice about it.
Looking at her and how beautiful and sensual she was, the robe curving over the slight roundness of her stomach where his child lay, made his possessiveness flex and tighten. As if he wanted to fight anyone who came near her, anyone who dared even look at her. And if anyone else ever touched her...
He forced himself to look away, struggling to get control of the hot thread of fury that wound through him at the thought.
She is dangerous to you. She makes you feel too much.
No, that was foolish. His control over his emotions was flawless.
Nazir picked up his wine glass and took a sip of the rich red wine, forcing his recalcitrant attention back to her question.
She did need more to her life and the more time he spent with her, the more that was obvious. He’d told her when they first met that her life so far had been a small one, and while he hadn’t meant it to be cruel, he still believed that.
She was exceedingly intelligent and interested and had a big-picture focus that the commander in him recognised as a valuable skill.
There were many organisation systems he had in place that he knew could use an overhaul and Ivy would be perfect for the job. Because in very many ways, she was a commander too. Hadn’t that been her role in the home she’d managed? It wasn’t an army, but it was people and, in the end, that was what an army was, just people operating within a system.
‘I agree,’ he said. ‘You do need something more. So what would you like to do?’
A tiny crease appeared between her brows as she picked up the tall glass full of the orange juice she liked. ‘You know, I hadn’t really thought. Back in England I didn’t have a lot of options and so I—’
‘You always had options,’ he interrupted gently. ‘You’re intelligent, interested, empathetic and full of energy. You would have been a huge asset to any employer or university or training institute.’ He paused, watching her face. ‘Why did you stay at the home? You could have gone anywhere, done anything. But you didn’t.’
She coloured, looking down at her glass as if finding its contents fascinating. ‘I had no experience at anything else but looking after the home. And I wanted to make sure everyone in it was looked after and cared for. And Connie lived nearby. And... I suppose it was all I knew.’
He could understand that, just as he understood that it wasn’t any of those things that had held her back, not this stubborn, determined woman. She’d crossed a desert, braved those rumours he’d put around about himself and all to fulfil her dying friend’s last wish. If she’d wanted to leave the home, she would have.
‘You didn’t want to do anything else? You didn’t have dreams of a better life? Of having more?’
‘No,’ she said quietly, not looking up. ‘It was easier not to. Easier to accept what I had than to hope for something I had no chance of getting.’
The way you’ve accepted your life and what you have. The way you keep telling yourself that you don’t want more.
No, this wasn’t the same. He’d been brought up to be a soldier, that was all he’d known, and he was happy with that. The need to protect and defend was part of him; it was in his blood. And so, after his father’s death, because he hadn’t been welcome back in the palace, he’d built himself an army so he could continue protecting and defending.
But you never thought beyond that, did you? You never thought there might be something else for you outside violence.
The thought was deeply disturbing and he didn’t want to think about it, so he focused on Ivy instead.
‘And what was it that you thought you had no chance of getting?’ he asked, even though he thought he knew the answer to that already.
Finally, she looked up from her juice, her gaze meeting his. ‘A family, Nazir.’
There was such honesty in her gaze, no armour, no evasions. This was the precious heart of her and she was showing it to him.
I was the only one in the home who was never adopted. One by one all the other kids were, including my friend, Connie, but not me. Never me...
She’d told him that days ago. He’d meant to tell her more about how he wanted her, but then she’d distracted him with talk about his past.
‘There was never anything wrong with you, Ivy,’ he said quietly, addressing not her statement, but the doubt he could see lingering in her eyes, and the underlying pain that went with it. ‘I don’t know why you were never chosen to be adopted, but it wasn’t due to a failure on your part. You know that, don’t you?’
Her lashes fluttered. ‘No. I don’t know that.’ Her voice was husky and uncertain. ‘There was one couple who I thought wanted me. They showed me a room they’d prepared for me, talked about how they couldn’t wait for me to be their daughter. But it...fell through at the last minute. I was told they’d changed their minds, though not why.’
A sharp, aching sensation caught behind his breastbone, and he was conscious of a simmering anger gathering along with it. At the foolish couple who’d changed their minds, who’d got a lonely child’s hopes up then dashed them. He felt anger for her disappointment and her pain. For the self-doubt it had obviously instilled in her.
The intensity of his anger seemed wildly out of proportion to what on the surface was merely a child’s disappointment. Except there was nothing ‘mere’ about it. Not when it had obviously cut her to the bone.
‘You really think that was your fault?’ He tried to control his tone, tried not to let any of his volcanic fury show.
‘I’m not sure who else’s it could be. And it wasn’t just that one couple, Nazir. There were others.’ Pain rippled across her lovely face. ‘I never knew why. And perhaps that was the worst part of all, the not knowing. Because it meant I couldn’t do anything about it, couldn’t do anything to change it. Couldn’t do anything to make myself more... I don’t know...more acceptable somehow.’
Nazir couldn’t move for the fury burning inside him, at the defeat and self-doubt in her voice. He wanted to hurt the people who’d hurt her, do violence to them, give them pain so they’d never make that mistake again.
Why are you thinking like this? Why are you letting her get to you?
The thought filtered through his anger like a thread of ice. Because he was letting her get to him, wasn’t he? He was letting her feelings matter, letting her matter.
And he couldn’t allow it.
Perhaps your control isn’t quite as perfect as you think...
The ice became a noose, choking him, and this time it was he who had to look away, fighting to retain his grip on himself. Fighting not to leap up from his seat and find her enemies and vanquish them. Or, better yet, reach for her, drag her across the table, rip her clothes away and show her just how much he wanted her. Then wipe that pain from her face for ever, brand himself into her skin, so she knew down to her bones that she was wanted.
‘You were always acceptable, Ivy,’ he said, fighting to keep his voice level, knowing he was sounding overly harsh yet unable to help it. ‘The problem was theirs, not yours. Never yours.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
There was such fearful hope in the words that he knew he couldn’t keep his gaze away, that he was going to have to look at her and let her see how deeply he believed it. He was going to have to reveal himself to her, even as his logic warned him coldly against it.
But he couldn’t not. He couldn’t be just another person who hurt her.
So he met her gaze, letting her see the truth, because her own honesty was a gift, a gesture of trust, and he could do no less. ‘Yes,’ he said, allowing conviction to vibrate in each word so she wouldn’t be in any doubt. ‘Everything about you is perfect. Your strength and your loyalty. Your passion and your intelligence. Your curiosity, your stubborn determination, and even your fury. Every part of you. Understand?’
She’d gone very still, staring at him, her gaze full of a thousand things he couldn’t read, all while the noose around his neck got tighter and tighter.
If you feel this strongly about Ivy, what about your child? How will you feel about him or her?
The question coiled around him, adding another strand to those already wrapped around his throat and pulling tight. Because it wasn’t only Ivy who had the potential to test his control over his emotions, the child would too. His child. Their child.
You’ll feel the same fury. The same need to protect, to defend. The same jealousy and possessiveness, and you will want more and more, and it will never be enough...
The choking sensation became more intense and he put the glass back down on the table and was on his feet before he’d fully thought about what he was doing.
Ivy stared at him in surprise. ‘Nazir? What’s wrong?’ The light flickered over her lovely face, illuminating the delicious shape of her body beneath her robe, and he was suddenly hungrier than he’d ever been in his entire life.
And not just for sex, but for something deeper, something richer. Something more.
Something he knew deep down that he didn’t deserve to have.
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he said curtly. ‘I merely have some arrangements to make.’
But an expression of concern crossed her features. ‘Is it me? Did I say something I shouldn’t?’
‘No.’ He was sounding harsh, but he couldn’t stop it. ‘There are a few things I have to check on for our upcoming marriage.’ He turned towards the doorway of the villa, away from the table and the flickering light, and the lovely, warm woman sitting opposite.
‘Nazir?’
But he didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He had to go and get rid of these feelings somehow, and luckily he knew exactly what would help.
Without a word, Nazir strode from the terrace leaving Ivy sitting there alone.
Ivy stared at the doorway into the house where Nazir had disappeared so suddenly, a familiar anxiety twisting in her gut.
What on earth had happened? Why had he walked away like that?
They’d been having a perfectly lovely dinner, made even lovelier by the things he’d said about her, about how there was nothing wrong with her, that she was perfect. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed to guess her underlying fears the way he had, that there’d always been something wrong with her, because why else hadn’t she been adopted by anyone?
That self-doubt had eaten away at her for years, though she hated to acknowledge it in any way. Yet looking into his eyes and seeing the conviction burning in them had felt like balm to a festering wound. As if all those people suddenly didn’t seem important any more, their opinions about her irrelevant.
Nazir believed she was perfect and that was all that mattered.
Of course, she didn’t need validation from anyone, yet she couldn’t deny that his meant a great deal to her. In fact, she was starting to think that he meant a great deal to her, especially over the past couple of days.
She’d never had someone’s sole attention before. Never had anyone put her needs first. Even something as simple as making sure her favourite tea was available and that the food she liked to eat was in supply in the kitchen. She’d never had anyone be interested in her opinions on a subject and want to talk to her about it, or even listen to what she had to say. Or no, that wasn’t quite true. She’d had Connie, who’d given her a taste of what friendship was like. But it wasn’t friendship she had with Nazir. It was something different, something that felt deeper, that had a physical element, the bond that came with sex and also with the fact that the child inside her was his.
A child she’d been starting to think about as theirs. She hadn’t wanted to stop thinking about Connie as the baby’s mother because Connie had been the whole reason for its existence. But Connie wasn’t here, and, regardless of how the baby had come to be, Ivy would be its mother.
No. She would be his mother.
Her hand rested on her stomach, a deep feeling of peace stealing through her, as though she’d come to some kind of agreement within herself. Yes, she would be his mother and Nazir would be his father, and they would be a family together. It was what she’d always wanted—what they’d both wanted, if what he’d said was true.
But...
She glanced again at the doorway, frowning. Something had affected him, causing his expression to harden and his turquoise eyes to ice over.
It’s you. You know you’re always the problem.
Except no, she didn’t think that was true, not this time. They’d been talking about her, it was true, but he’d told her she was perfect, that there was nothing wrong with her, so what had made him suddenly walk away like that?
The Ivy of a week ago would have dismissed it in order to hide her own anxiety that it was something she’d done. But the Ivy she was now was different. The new Ivy had spent a week in his arms discovering that when he smiled he was mesmerising and that he had a playful side she found absolutely delightful. That he was interesting and knowledgeable about the world, having been to a great many places, and hadn’t minded one bit her peppering him with questions about them.
The new Ivy could make him growl with need and pant with desire.
The new Ivy could make him burn.
And that Ivy wasn’t going to let him walk away from her without finding out what was hurting him.
Taking one last sip of her juice, she got to her feet and moved over to the doorway, the silky fabric of the robe whispering against her bare skin.
She had no idea where he might be, but she checked the usual places: the living area, the terrace, the small, cosy library—though, to be fair, that was her preferred place to be rather than his. He wasn’t in the office either, or the bedroom. Which only left one other place that he spent any time in: the gym on the bottom level of the house.
The house was built of stone and there was a timeless quality to it and to the furnishings, but the gym was resolutely modern. It was a big, wide open space, mirrored down one wall and full of different apparatus, treadmills and rowing machines, a stationary bike and an elliptical, weight benches and other constructions built of gleaming steel with bars at different heights.
She found Nazir standing beneath one of these, stripped to the waist. As she paused in the doorway, he raised his arms, made a powerful, graceful leap and caught hold of the bar. He hung suspended there for a couple of seconds, then, with a movement that was nothing but sheer, masculine strength, he began a series of expertly controlled pull-ups.
Ivy leaned against the doorway, watching him.
There was something brutal in the way he moved, in the power and control involved in each pull-up, and it was mesmerising. The lights of the gym highlighted the flex and release of every chiselled muscle, the flat plane of his stomach, the broad expanse of his chest, and the contraction of his biceps as he pulled himself up then let himself down.
He was sleek and immensely powerful, his bronze skin gleaming with sweat.
She swallowed, the ache of desire already building between her thighs. A warrior, that was what he was, a warrior through and through, built to protect. Made to defend.
Yet...that wasn’t all he was. There was a compassion to him that she thought he wasn’t aware of or that perhaps he tried to hide, and she’d seen the evidence of it in how he spoke of his men and how he ran his army. In how he’d cared for her, too.
What more could he be? What more could he offer the world beyond skulking out in the desert and hiring an army out for profit? What did he hope to gain by doing it? What was he trying to prove?
Was it all to be a thorn in the side of his half-brother? Or was there more to it than that? Did he believe, as she had, that deep down that was all he was capable of?
Maybe it’s all he thinks he deserves?
Well, if so, it wasn’t true. And if she could look beyond the home, look beyond the life she’d made for herself that he’d been right to call small, perhaps he could too. Perhaps that compassion of his could be harnessed to his drive to defend and protect, and made into something that could change the world.
He completed the set of pull-ups, letting go of the bar and dropping down onto his feet, wiping his hands of the chalk that had been covering his palms for grip. Without turning, he said, ‘I suggest you go and do something else, Ivy. I’ll be down here for another hour or so.’
Ivy stared at his powerful back and didn’t move.
‘Why did you walk away?’ she asked.
‘I told you. I had some arrangements to make.’ He swung his arms, loosening them up in preparation for another set.
‘Yes, and I can see that you’re very busy making them.’
Nazir turned, his expression set in its usual granite lines, impossible to read as always. But not his gaze. That burned with a fierce, bright light, and it wasn’t cold, not now. It was hot, like a fire.
Ivy took a step into the gym, moving towards him, unable to stop herself, drawn relentlessly by that ferocity and that heat. She knew by now what it was: hunger.
He tensed. ‘Stop.’ His voice was gritty and dark as gravel. ‘Stay where you are.’
Ivy paused. ‘Why?’
The look in his eyes burned hotter. ‘It’s better for you not to be around me right now.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, though she suspected she had an idea. ‘What’s wrong with being around you?’
He stood very still, a seething kind of energy gathering around him. His eyes glittered, his focus predatory. ‘You don’t want to know.’
Ivy’s heartbeat picked up speed, thudding louder in her head as she watched him. He looked dangerous and hungry, like a leopard who’d gone too long without food, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the prey he’d just spotted...and that any sudden move would make him pounce.
He doesn’t want you close because you threaten his control.
Understanding flickered through her, along with a rush of pure adrenaline, making her breath catch hard. Yes, that was it, wasn’t it? And his control was precious to him. He’d always been that way with her, so careful and gentle, and she’d loved that, because it felt good to have someone take care of her.
So you should let him be. Who are you to push him?
But that was a question for the woman she’d been when she’d first turned up on his doorstep, not the woman she was now. Because the woman she was now wanted more than careful and gentle, and she wasn’t going to be put off with excuses about ‘arrangements’. He’d released her passion so why couldn’t she release his?
Ivy took one step and then another, moving slowly towards him, the fine material of the robe billowing and swirling around her as she walked.
He tensed even more. ‘Ivy.’
Her name was a raw command that wouldn’t have stopped her in her tracks a week ago and it certainly didn’t now. Not when she was so mesmerised by that bright glitter in his eyes, the predatory hunger that was becoming more and more obvious the closer she got to him. Yes, a leopard ready to leap, ready to take down his prey.
But she wasn’t his prey. She might be small and she might be pregnant, but she was also his equal, and perhaps it was time he learned that. Perhaps it was her turn to show him that she didn’t need him to be careful of her, that he didn’t need to be gentle all the time. Perhaps he needed a few lessons on the strength of women.
So she didn’t stop. She went right up to where he stood, gleaming with sweat, every line of him hard with carved muscle and radiating raw, masculine strength. Danger gathered around him, a leashed violence that didn’t frighten her; it only wound her anticipation even tighter. He was so hot and he smelled of clean sweat and that dark spice that made her ache with an intense hunger all her own.
Oh, she wanted him. She wanted him like this, hungry and desperate, because she’d been hungry and desperate too. She still was, but only for him.
It will only ever be for him.
The knowledge was like uncovering bedrock under a mound of loose soil, dense, impossible to shift, and as heavy as the earth itself. It was a foundation on which to build her life, because, yes, there would never be anyone else for her. No other man excited her, challenged her, fascinated her as he did, and, although it was true that her experience of men was limited, she had no desire to look further.
Everything she’d ever wanted was standing right in front of her.
You’re in love with him.
Well, obviously. If there was never to be anyone else, it had to be because she didn’t want there to be. Because this was the man for her, the only man. Was that love? She had no idea—she’d never been in love before—but it felt right and true, and she didn’t fight it. Didn’t deny it.
She lifted her hand and let her fingers settle in the hollow of his throat, his skin hot and slick beneath her touch, the beat of his pulse heavy and sure.
His whole body tensed as she touched him, the fire in his gaze leaping, sending a pulse of raw electricity surging through her.
‘I’m not afraid of you, Nazir,’ she said, meeting his gaze without flinching. ‘So tell me, why should I keep my distance? What is it exactly that I don’t want to know?’
He reached up, his long fingers wrapping around her wrist and holding it. ‘You should be afraid.’ His hard mouth twisted in what looked like a snarl. ‘I can be dangerous when my control is tested. And you test it, Ivy. I don’t want to—’
‘Hurt me?’ she finished, stepping even closer, so they were mere inches apart. ‘Don’t be stupid. You won’t. This isn’t about hurting me anyway. This is about the fact that you don’t like to be out of control and that’s what’s really getting to you, isn’t it?’
His gaze shifted and glittered, the animal heat in it searing. ‘I’m a soldier, little fury. I kill people and I command other men who kill people. You don’t want a man like me losing his grip on his control, believe me.’
‘But that’s not all you are.’ She lifted her other hand and put it very deliberately on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the beat of his heart against her palm. ‘You’re not just a soldier and you do more than kill. There’s gentleness in you and compassion, and a deep empathy. And I think that was taken from you, wasn’t it?’
He bared his teeth, his gaze moving from hers, raking down her body that the robe barely covered. His fingers tightened around her wrist and she could feel his pulse begin to accelerate. ‘I don’t care about compassion and I care even less about empathy. I’m an animal, Ivy. And right now, if you don’t step away I’m going to rip that robe from your body and take you, and there won’t be a single thing you can do about it.’
But she only lifted her chin. ‘Maybe I want you to be an animal. Maybe I’m an animal too. Did you ever think of that?’
He said something low and rough in Arabic that she didn’t understand, his broad chest rising in a sudden, sharp inhale, his heart beating even faster. ‘You don’t understand. I need to stay in command of myself. I got my mother exiled and my father lost the love of his life. I destroyed my family, Ivy. I don’t want to end up destroying you.’
Ivy put back her head and met his fierce, uncompromising gaze. ‘Try it,’ she said softly. ‘See how far you get. I’m tougher than you can possibly imagine.’ Then, before he could move, she lifted her fingers from his throat, went up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth there, tasting the salt and velvet of his skin.