Carol Marinelli - Seduced By The Sheikh Surgeon

Zahir knew that.

It was a straightforward operation that his mother had had to travel for ten hours to get access to.

Dakan came in to visit again and they persuaded their mother that Fatiq, the King, needed to be informed as to all that had happened today, and finally she agreed.

‘Go easy on him, Zahir,’ Leila said, for she knew how they clashed, especially on topics such as this. ‘He will be so worried and scared for me.’

Zahir nodded.

And at the beginning of the call, knowing how deeply his parents loved each other and the shock this would be, he was gentle. He sat in his office, explaining as best he could what had happened and that his mother would have surgery on Monday.

‘No,’ his father said and Zahir could hear the fear in his voice. ‘I want her here. Last time she went into hospital...’ He didn’t finish.

They never did.

That topic was closed for ever.

‘Zahir, if anything should happen to her—’

‘She needs surgery,’ Zahir interrupted, but they went around in circles for a while, with Fatiq insisting that surgery was unnecessary and that the healer could sort this.

Zahir bit back the temptation to tell his father that the healer had been the one who had suggested it.

That had surprised Zahir, yet it pleased him also.

Perhaps some progress could finally be made.

‘She is seeing one of the top surgeons in London,’ Zahir said. ‘I will ensure that she gets the very best of care and shall keep you informed.’

The call ended and Zahir replaced the receiver. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb and took a deep breath to steady himself. He was so angry with his father about the health care back home and it was a battle they had fought for way more than a decade.

It was the reason he was here.

CHAPTER THREE

‘ARE YOU OKAY?’

Her voice was soothing.

Pleasant.

He opened his eyes and there, standing at the office door, was Adele.

Zahir thought he had closed it and was uncomfortable that she’d caught him in an unguarded moment.

‘I’m not about to have my second Al Rahal faint on me today?’ Adele checked, and Zahir gave a reluctant smile.

‘No.’

‘We’re just about to move your mother to the private wing.’

‘Good,’ Zahir said, and then glanced at the time. ‘You must be finishing up. Thank you for all your help with her today.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Who’s taking her up to the ward?’

‘I am,’ Adele said.

His mother had insisted on keeping Adele around and, because queens were something of a rarity, the rules had been relaxed.

‘She wants to know if you’ve spoken with her husband.’

‘Tell my mother that he knows. I’ll come and speak with her on the ward. I just have a couple more patients to see.’

It took ages to settle Leila into the private wing. She was lovely but extremely demanding and by the time Adele had everything to the Queen’s liking and had handed over it was way past the end of her shift and she was exhausted.

‘I shall see you in the morning,’ Leila checked as Adele wished her goodnight.

Zahir had come in to check that his mother was settled too.

‘No.’ Adele shook her head.

‘But you said you started tomorrow at seven.’

‘Yes, but I work in Emergency.’

There was an exchange in Arabic between mother and son. A rather long one and finally Zahir translated what was being said.

‘She wants to know if you can nurse her. I’ve just explained that that is not how things work.’

Leila spoke now in English. ‘I want Adele to be my nurse.’

‘She’s very used to getting her own way.’ Zahir gave a wry smile and then went back to speaking in Arabic.

His mother was adamant and, seeing that she was getting upset, Adele intervened.

‘Leila, I would love to care for you but it isn’t my specialty and I’m already rostered on to work in Accident and Emergency tomorrow. They’re very short of staff. I can come and visit you, though.’

‘You’ll visit me?’

‘I’d love to.’ Adele nodded. She often caught up with patients once they were moved to other wards and few were more interesting than Leila. ‘I can come in during my lunch break tomorrow. For now, though, you need to get some rest. It’s been an exhausting day for you.’

Adele headed down and changed out of her scrubs and into jeans and a T-shirt. It was well after ten and she had missed her bus and would have to wait for ages for the next one.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

It was, however, the first time that the silver sports car that usually glided past pulled in at the bus stop.

The window slid down and Zahir called out to her.

‘The least I can do is give you a lift home.’

Even though Adele was still sulking about last night, she knew it would be petty to refuse.

Finally she sat in the passenger seat.

‘You don’t drive?’ Zahir asked.

‘No.’ Adele shook her head. ‘There’s no real need to in London.’

She gave her regular excuse, but the truth was that since that awful day even the thought of getting behind the wheel made her feel ill.

‘Surely it’s better than getting a bus late at night?’

‘Maybe.’ Adele gave a shrug.

Perhaps she couldn’t afford a car, Zahir thought. He had heard that she was saving up to move out of her flat.

He would buy her a car, Zahir decided.

It was as if cultures had just clashed in his brain.

That was what his family would say—buy her a car, repay the debt, return the favour tenfold—and yet he knew that she would find such a move offensive.

Today was not a debt that needed to be repaid to Adele.

It was her job. Nursing was what she did.

And she did it very well.

It wasn’t her fault that he was terse with her at times.

It was necessary for him to function.

She entranced him.

She was funny and open and yet private and deep.

Adele was the woman he kept a distance from because she was the one person he would really like to get to know.

And no good could come from that.

‘I really am grateful for all your help today,’ he said.

‘I was just doing my job.’

‘I know, but you helped my mother a lot. I know that she would have been scared, given that she is so far from home, and that she would have needed someone to talk to.’ Zahir hesitated. He thought of his mother’s eyelids, swollen from crying. He hoped she had given her full history to the doctors. ‘Did she mention that she lost a baby?’

Adele frowned as Zahir glanced at her. From the way Leila had asked that it not be mentioned, Adele had assumed Zahir didn’t know about his brother. She thought about it some more and realised he would have been about seven when it had happened.

When she didn’t answer the question, Zahir elaborated.

‘I don’t really know the details,’ he admitted. ‘It’s a forbidden subject in the palace. I just know she was having a baby and that she flew to Dubai. Then my father left and they all returned. Aafaq is buried in the desert but to this day...’ He glanced at her again, hoping he might glean something.

Anything.

‘You need to discuss that with your mother,’ Adele said, though there was regret in her voice. She knew how it felt to be kept in the dark. She could still clearly remember trying to get information out of Janet. It was awful knowing someone held facts that were vital to you but could not be shared. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know,’ Zahir admitted. ‘And I’m sorry to have put you in that situation. I just hope she has been frank with Mr Oman.’

Adele didn’t answer.