‘I won’t let you take my baby, Nadir.’ Imogen hated it that her voice rang with fear. ‘If that’s your plan.’ She’d never even considered it before, but now that she had she couldn’t push it from her mind.
He glanced at her impatiently. ‘If I wanted that then you couldn’t stop me.’
‘I could. I’d …’ Panic clawed inside her throat. ‘I’ll …’
‘But I don’t want that.’ He made an impatient gesture with his hands. ‘I am not so callous that I don’t realise a baby needs its mother. That is why I plan to marry you.’
Marry her!
She shook her head, biting back a rising sense of hysteria. She needed time to make sense of everything that was happening, and she couldn’t because her mind didn’t know which way to turn.
‘Breathe, Imogen.’
Nadir went to put his hands on her shoulders and she jerked back, wondering how he had got so close to her without her being aware of it.
Imogen shook her head. ‘You’re crazy to think that I’d marry you after the way you treated me.’
Nadir’s mouth thinned and he stepped closer to her, contained anger emanating from every taut line of his body. ‘I can assure you that I’m not. This is non-negotiable.’
When one night … leads to pregnancy!
When succumbing to a night of unbridled desire it’s impossible to think past the morning after!
But, with the sheets barely settled, that little blue line appears on the pregnancy test and it doesn’t take long to realise that one night of white-hot passion has turned into a lifetime of consequences!
Only one question remains:
How do you tell a man you’ve just met that you’re about to share more than just his bed?
Find out in:
Nine Months to Redeem Him by Jennie Lucas
January 2015
Prince Nadir’s Secret Heir by Michelle Conder
March 2015
Carrying the Greek’s Heir by Sharon Kendrick
April 2015
More stories in the One Night with Consequences series can be found at millsandboon.co.uk
With two university degrees and a variety of false career starts under her belt, MICHELLE CONDER decided to satisfy her lifelong desire to write and finally found her dream job. She currently lives in Melbourne, Australia, with one super-indulgent husband, three self-indulgent (but exquisite) children, a menagerie of over-indulged pets, and the intention of doing some form of exercise daily. She loves to hear from her readers at www.michelleconder.com
Prince Nadir’s Secret Heir
Michelle Conder
For Pam Austin, who planned the most wonderful holiday while I wrote this book. Meeting you on that train ride to Paris was one of life’s little gifts.
And for Paul for always being there.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SOME DAYS STARTED OUT well and stayed that way. Others started out well and rapidly deteriorated.
This day, Nadir Zaman Al-Darkhan, Crown Prince of Bakaan, decided as he stared at a very large and very ugly statue squatting in the corner of his London office, was rapidly sliding towards the latter. ‘What the hell is that?’
He glanced over his shoulder at his new PA, who blinked back at him like a newly hatched owl transfixed by a wicked wolf. She’d been recommended by his old PA, whose recently acquired husband had taken offence at the seventeen-hour work-days Nadir habitually kept, and he wasn’t sure how she was going to work out.
In general people either treated him with deference or fear. According to his brother, it had something to do with the vibe he gave off. Apparently he emanated an aura of power and ruthless determination that didn’t bode well for his personal relationships, which was why he didn’t have many. Nadir had merely shrugged when Zach had delivered that piece of news. Personal relationships ranked well down below work, exercise, sex and sleep.
Not always, a sneaky voice whispered in his ear and he frowned as that voice conjured up an image of a woman he had once briefly dated over a year ago and had never seen since.
‘I believe it’s a golden stag, sir,’ his PA all but stuttered, definitely falling into the fearful category.
Applying some of that ruthlessness his brother had mentioned, Nadir banished the image of the blonde dancer from his mind and turned back to the statue. He could see it was a stag and he only hoped it hadn’t once been alive. ‘I got that, Miss Fenton. What I should have said is—what the hell is it doing in my office?’
‘It’s a gift from the Sultan of Astiv.’
Ah, just what he needed—another gift from some world leader he didn’t know, offering commiserations over the death of his father two weeks ago. He’d only been back in Europe a day since the funeral and he was, frankly, tired of the reminders which always brought