LITMIR.BIZ

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and teach dance. She’d even taken a short online business course. She had a vision that when she had enough money she and Nadeena would move to a mid-sized town where she could open a studio. Nadeena would rush home after school and if she wanted to she could dance; if not, she could sit and do homework or read. Then they would go home together and chat while Imogen cooked dinner and at night...at night...she hadn’t really thought about the nights. Her imagination had only gone so far as to envision her and Nadeena as a tight-knit unit.

      The two of them happy and contented.

      And when Nadeena asked about her father, as she surely would one day, Imogen hadn’t quite worked out what she was going to tell her. She didn’t want to lie to her but nor did she want Nadeena to know that her father had never wanted her. She glanced at Nadir standing by the window, his broad back to her as if he couldn’t stand to look at her. Well, that was fine with her. She couldn’t stand to look at him either.

      Careful not to waken Nadeena, she eased herself off the sofa, not as easy as it looked since it was one of those squishy ones designed for long afternoons lazing about, and cradled Nadeena in her arms.

      Hearing her, Nadir turned towards her and she hastily pulled her T-shirt back into place.

      ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

      Imogen raised her chin at his surly tone. ‘Home.’

      ‘To that buffoon you were with earlier?’

      It took her a beat to realise he was referring to Minh but she wasn’t about to get into another lengthy discussion with him and, although it was illogical, her gut warned her that if she answered his question honestly he’d never let her leave. And that was exactly what she was about to do. ‘You have no right to ask me that. But I am curious as to why you brought me up here. It seems like a waste of your time and mine.’

      His eyes held hers and he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Is he your current lover?’

      Chilled, Imogen cuddled Nadeena closer. ‘You answer my questions and I’ll answer yours.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’ Nadir’s voice, his stance—heck, his very demeanour—had turned alert with predatory intent. ‘Did you assume you were in a position to bargain with me?’

      Imogen rubbed the space between her eyes, her arms starting to ache from holding Nadeena.

      ‘What I assumed,’ she said as she laid her daughter on the sofa and fixed cushions around her, ‘was that you weren’t interested in anything about me and what I do, or where I live.’

      ‘You are the mother of my child,’ he said as if that answered everything.

      And then she remembered why she was here and could have laughed at her own stupidity. This wasn’t about some romantic reunion of past lovers. This was about a man with self-preservation on his mind. ‘We’ve already established that you don’t care about that.’

      ‘I care.’

      Imogen curled her lip. What he meant was that he cared about how much cash she was going to hit him up for.

      ‘I get it,’ she said tonelessly. ‘And while I think it’s incredibly selfish of you not to want to provide for your own flesh and blood you’ll no doubt be relieved to know that I don’t want anything from you and I never will.’

      ‘Excuse me?’

      ‘Nor do I expect that you will want to see her and that’s more than okay with me as well.’

      He started to laugh and she felt even more disgusted with him. ‘I don’t see what’s so amusing. It’s a travesty if you really think about it too much. Which I try not to do.’

      ‘You’re serious.’

      ‘I certainly don’t think abandoning your own child is something to laugh about, but maybe that’s just me.’

      ‘Except I didn’t abandon her—you took her.’

      ‘Are we back to that again?’

      His eyebrow rose. ‘Did we ever leave it?’

      ‘I want to go home, Nadir.’

      ‘That’s not possible,’ he said briskly. ‘I should have already left for Bakaan by now.’

       His homeland?

      ‘Please don’t let me stop you.’

      One corner of his mouth quirked in a parody of a smile. ‘I don’t intend to. But unfortunately we have run out of time to get things you might need from your house. If you write me a list I’ll make sure you have everything on hand when we arrive. We shouldn’t be gone long. A day at the most.’

      Imogen blinked. ‘We?’

      ‘That’s what I said.’

      ‘You must be mad.’

      He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started dialling as if he hadn’t heard her.

      ‘Nadir, what are you doing?’

      He looked up at her. ‘Claiming what is mine.’

      Imogen waited a beat before responding. Waited for the punchline. When he stared back with all the confidence of a man used to getting his own way she felt dizzy.

      ‘I am not yours and I never was!’

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘I meant Nadeena.’

       Sanctimonious bastard.

      Embarrassed at her gaffe, Imogen hauled the baby bag over her shoulder. ‘Didn’t you just hear me? I said I don’t want anything from you.’

      ‘I heard you.’

      She shook her head. ‘I’m going.’

      Before she had time to reach Nadeena, Nadir abandoned his call and yanked the bag off her shoulder, spinning her around to face him. ‘You’ve stolen the first five months of my daughter’s life from me.’ His voice seemed to harden with every word even though its tenor didn’t change. ‘You won’t be stealing any more.’

      Stolen? Imogen’s knees started to shake and the sense of dread from earlier returned with force. ‘I haven’t stolen anything. And how do you know she’s even really yours?’

      A grim smile crooked the corner of his mouth. ‘She has my eyes.’

      ‘Lots of people have silvery-blue eyes,’ she said on a rush. ‘They’re as common as mice.’ Rats.

      One dark eyebrow rose. ‘You gave her an Arabic name.’

      ‘Nadeena was a great-aunt of mine.’

      ‘And you’re proving to be a terrible liar. Which is in your favour.’

      ‘I don’t understand this at all.’ She threw her arms up in front of her. ‘You don’t even want children. Why would you want us to go with you?’

      He widened his stance and her eyes couldn’t help but notice his strong legs and lean torso. God, did he have to be quite so damned virile?

      ‘How do you know that?’

      Gossip, mainly. She lifted her chin and focused on his hard face, which wasn’t much better. ‘Well, do you?’ she asked coolly.

      ‘I’d say that’s a moot point now, wouldn’t you?’

      ‘No, I most definitely would not. I’d say it’s very relevant considering the way you’re behaving.’

      ‘Sometimes, Imogen, life throws us curve balls but that doesn’t mean we have to drop them. I don’t need a DNA test to confirm that I have a child.’

      Frustration made her voice sharper than usual. ‘Of course you need to do a DNA test. What kind of crazy talk is that? No rich man in his right mind would take on a child as his

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