Seduced By The Sheikh Surgeon. Carol Marinelli
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.
Zahir respected her for that.
‘Just here,’ Adele said, and they pulled up at a large building with heavy gates.
‘Again—thank you again for your help with my mother today.’
‘No problem. Thank you for the lift.’
‘Any time.’ Zahir gave an automatic response.
She let out a short, incredulous laugh. For a year he had driven past her; last night she had been drenched and he’d utterly ignored her. And, yes, it might seem petty but she would not leave it unsaid. ‘Any time you feel obliged to, you mean.’
Zahir stared ahead but he was gripping the steering-wheel rather tightly.
He knew that Adele was referring to last night.
Of course he had seen her.
It had taken all he had not to stop.
‘Goodnight, Zahir.’
She got out and opened the gates.
Zahir knew he hadn’t dropped her at her flat. This was a nursing home. He knew that Adele’s mother was very ill and that she visited her often.
He had never delved.
Zahir had wanted to, though.
He wanted to explore his feelings for Adele. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone.
But he had been born to be king, which meant at all times he kept his head. His emotions he owned and his heart had to remain closed until marriage.
And he would marry soon hopefully.
It was the last bargaining tool he had with his father.
King Fatiq wanted a selection ceremony to take place and for Zahir to choose his future bride.
There were several possibilities and the union must be the one to best benefit the country, yet Zahir had refused to commit himself so far.
Only when he had free rein to rebuild the health system in his own country would Zahir choose a bride. His father had resisted but Zahir was now thirty-two and the King wanted his son married and home.
And so Zahir chose to remain aloof in relationships, knowing, hoping, that at any given time his